Adult-me ran my butt to outpatient treatment before things got anywhere near rock bottom mostly out of a strong desire to be better for my children and husband.

Teen-me, however, wants to find out how sick I have to be before someone that loves me takes real action.

The eating disorder loves teen-me. I often feel stuck between these two thoughts: the immature teen thought of I’m not sick enough for anyone to truly care and the adult: it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, I know I’m not well and need help.

Losing weight or purging (and becoming sicker) doesn’t match my most precious values—yet I’ve had 130 calories today at 3:30pm and wondering why I feel so stubborn and scared to help myself. Why I feel the need to match physical pain to inner emotional pain. Why despite knowing this, it’s still so hard.

I feel very in touch with emotional pain today and it’s as if I can’t get passed teen-me (with encouragement from the eating disorder) saying don’t eat until someone cares enough to sit with you and make you food. Or drive you to help.

I feel so inside the hurt that I want starvation and weight loss to make me little again.

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