92.3 lbs. BMI: 16 on the nose. (Also my lowest-ever adult weight thus far.) I think it will only be another .1 or .2 lbs before I'm in the 15s. I've never been in the 15s before, so that should be... well, vaguely interesting, I guess.

It's funny how the numbers don't matter at all, and yet they do. They only seem to matter in the context that I keep losing weight and that my BMI keeps going lower. The actual numbers aren't nearly as important as the downward progression. The numbers MUST go down, and continue to go down. That is my #1 goal right now in my entire life and being. How sad is that, right? But it's all I have left to cling to that doesn't drive me deep into despair and desperation and suicidality. So I will cling to it with all my might, and believe it is the most important thing in the world, because I have to. My life simply will not work if I try to do it any other way.

Oh, ED, you've certainly got a really fucking good hold on me now, haven't you.