Written on the 12th on another website.


Home scale yesterday said 122.2. Fucking nuts. I cannot believe I am that small. It's difficult to imagine that I'm actually only 2 lbs heavier than my long term healthy goal weight. Whaaaaat.

Problem is, I don't feel like I've lost half the weight I actually want to lose. I still look at myself and see fat everywhere. I figure I'd need at least 10-15 more lbs to actually be small, to start with. I also feel like there's a part of me, hanging out in the back of my brain, that doesn't necessarily want to stop. That just wants to get smaller and smaller and smaller indefinitely. I guess that would be the anorexic bitch who still lives in there, despite the fact that I haven't truly given in to her for a very very long time. She's waiting for her comeback chance, and is willing to be patient, and lose weight slowly for now, so that she doesn't actually get stamped out. Biding her time.

I'm afraid that she's never going to go away. I'm afraid of her going away. Ambivalence. Turns out that one of my major obstacles to recovery is this bloody ambivalence, which seems to exist in every part of my life, not just ED, and I suspect that its resolution may take a long time. I am in a place where I am semi-safe and do eat at least enough to function right now, but I won't always be here. Will the ambivalence get resolved enough before I leave M House that I don't fall right back into ED? Or will I leave and start my downward spiral again?

Uncertainty.