I just finished the book "Slim to None" by Jennifer Hendricks... a really great read. She died of anorexia when she was 25 after struggling with it for eleven years and being in treatment for ten years. None of her treatments really got to the root of her problems. It was a real eye-opener for me in terms of just how ineffective therapeutic and medical techniques for treating anorexia can often be in "hardcore" or "terminal" cases. The only comfort I have is knowing that if I ever end up developing anorexia, I firmly believe that treatment would be possible for me.

At the same time, reading that book made me feel like a terrible, worthless person who deserves her eating disorder. I certainly deserve it more than that girl did. I just see myself as being too fucking lazy and selfish to try and recover from this. Maybe it's not true, but that's what I think anyway. I know I will try to cling to this coping mechanism for as long as it works for me, which makes me far worse than her. She tried so, so hard to get better, and here I am clinging to it with all my might. Ugh. Sometimes I really hate myself.