Climbing back on.

The only thing that's more torturous than being stuck inside the ED world, is getting out, and going back, a million times over. Each time I convince myself, I'm okay. This time, I'll make it.

I'm always wrong. It never goes, it hides and waits for a moment of weakness, then pounces on me. And I'm happy. Well no, maybe just relieved. To have control back, the structure and plans, to float through my days with a sense of peace, a sense of, "I'm doing this, there's no going back."

I'm sitting with a 2 litre bottle of water, just like I did last week. I'm ready this time, I'm diving in deep. My fiance knows I've relapsed, but she's reached the point where she knows there's nothing she can do or say. This is my battle, and I don't want to fight right now.

I think maybe I like the feeling of living inside my head. My ED is my blanket, covering my vision with filmy images of how I'll look when I reach the ultimate goal. It protects me, gives me something, anything, to look forward to.

I have nothing else. I have no job. I have my fiance, and I love her, but I'm not good enough for her. How can I eat when I'm not there yet?

My weight is about the same as my last post, but, it will be going down down down.
I'm on water/tea for the weekdays. The weekends should be restricting.