It's stupid... I'm eating again, I'm eating somewhat intuitively now (although it can't fully be trusted yet), and I'm actually sort of okay with being this big (I am definitely at least 125 by now), and yet here I am contemplating throwing it all down the shitter and just going with my eating disorder again.

Why?

Because other people seem to have it soooo fucking easy with their disorders. They never have to face up to responsibility, or risk, or crazy anxiety because they're worried about how to pay their ridiculous bills, or what they're going to do in school, or what the hell is going to happen if they ever meet someone they want to be with and their intimacy issues crop up. Nooo. Other people get to dive into their eating disorders or self-harm or whatever, and get all the numbness and comfort from it, and never face f*cking reality. But meanwhile here I am, slogging through real life, actually trying to fucking do something for myself... and what am I actually getting out of it?

Stupid crazy anxiety. A fucked-up sleep cycle, in part because I've had so many fucking med changes lately, and every time I increase my Seroquel just by 12.5 mg I am asleep for 12-13 hours because it sedates me so badly. Days when I can't even go out, because the thought of having to be in the world and face it is so incredibly overwhelming that I can't handle it. Depression, when I have moments where I'm so sick of doing the same shit over again, yet I know I have to find some way to be content with the same things over and over, because I'm so fucking poor that I can't afford anything different.

And then I start reading shit online about emotional neglect, childhood neglect, and it makes me think all this effort at recovery is fucking worthless anyway. Because my parents will NEVER admit they could have been emotionally neglectful, even unintentionally (and I do believe it was unintentional), so how the fuck can I ever fix it? I'm probably gonna wait another 2 fucking YEARS to see a psychologist at T Clinic, and until then I have... what, a social worker who does "counseling"? I need real fucking THERAPY for this shit. And I can never find anybody who will fucking do it, and do it RIGHT.

Hopelessness. That's what this is. And wanting an easy way out, because the hard way seems like it's never going to work, and I don't know what the fuck to do anymore, and I'm trying SO FUCKING HARD and this is not working. What more do I have to do to make this work?? What more do I have to do not to suffer from depression/dysthymia, anxiety, the [very large] remnants of emotional neglect? What more do I have to do to be comfortable with my sexuality, to be comfortable telling boys who think I'm attractive or nice that, sorry, I'm actually gay? What more do I have to do to actually be fucking OKAY, and BELIEVE that I am okay????

I am just... so incredibly frustrated. And I hate all this fucking bullshit. Maybe I would feel better if I, too, pulled into myself and destroyed myself and just became a selfish, dismayed, petulant child again. Maybe I fucking would.