Doctors visits. The look of fear on my parent’s faces. Disappointing people. Lies, lies, and more lies. Fainting. Not being able to concentrate more than a few minutes. Being cold, even in 90+ degrees. Exhaustion. Hunger that creates such a deep pain it’s hard to describe. Calorie counting. Having to wear leggings under jeans so they still fit. Putting on a fake smile. Heart palpitations. Wasting my parents money on all of my medical expenses. Eating only the same few foods. Hiding ED behaviors from others as much as possible. Relapse. Having the number on the scale determine how much I hate myself that day. Nightmares of growing fatter. Not even knowing what my favorite food is anymore. Feeling bad for lying to everyone but not being able to eat what I should. Crying over meals. Crying at the scale. Crying over what faces me in the mirror. Crying over how much I hate myself. Crying over everything. Therapy all the time. Anxiety. Feeling absolutely worthless. Contemplating suicide. Blood draws. Feeling like a burden constantly. Isolating. Barely surviving church dinners. Exercising at any cost. Constant food/calorie/weight thoughts. Labeled as “the anorexic.” Growing apart from God. Momentary fear of seriously damaging my body. Terrible low moods. Looks of disgust from my brother as I struggle with a meal. Failing at recovery. Hair loss. Wanting to go back to other bad behaviors. Uttering the words “I’m fine” when it couldn’t be further from the truth. Being told I have an exercise addiction. “You look healthy now” being the most triggering four words possible. Feeling overwhelmed. Having to rest after walking up a flight of stairs. Avoiding all social events. Not being the best youth leader I could be. Admitting that I’m sick out loud being one of the hardest things. Self-doubt. Numbness from sitting more than five minutes. Losing friendships. Being told I am killing myself. Sneaking to use behaviors. Dreams of exercise and weight loss. Looking dead and feeling worse. Depression. Feeling the fat forming on my body. No confidence in anything. Perfectionism. Fear of everything. Hurting people. Putting the ED before anything else. Not being able to “just eat.” Having no idea what my body actually looks like. Being misunderstood. Losing hope. Insomnia. Feeling unworthy of God’s love. Avoiding hugs for fear that someone will freak out over the bones. Realizing I have no control anymore. Feeling numb emotionally. Wishing I could just die from this. Letting ED thoughts take over times that are meant to be carefree and fun. Refeeding syndrome being like a punishment when I attempt recovery. Seeing the pain and worry in other’s eyes when I tell them the truth about restriction. Having mom and dad beg, cry, and yell at me to eat something. Feeling like a lost cause. A slow suicide. ED thoughts taunting me. Wanting to do better so badly but not being strong enough. Being alone. Having therapy sessions end with “I’m worried about you.” Anxiety in grocery stores. Throwing away food. Staring into the mirror for hours a day. Something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Reading statistics and physical side effects and thinking “not me.” Being filled with shame and guilt for too many reasons. Lectures from health professionals. Feeling like I’m getting nowhere. Breaking down only behind closed doors. Meal plans. Having no focus for school anymore. Not allowing myself to ask for help. Going right back to ED behaviors when it gets stressful. Being threatened with Ensures. Asking God to just take me. Low blood sugar. Wondering why. Ruining family dinners. Never truly enjoying myself. Taking two steps forward and then ten steps back. Hiding from the truth. Body checking. Being completely absorbed by the ED. Losing all trust from everyone. Asking about the food that will be somewhere before ever agreeing to go. Breaking down after being forced to eat a hard meal. Inability to even function. Not knowing what normal eating is anymore. Becoming a shell of who I once was.

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If there’s anything I’ve learned the last few weeks during this relapse, it’s that I absolutely hate anorexia. I am going to come back and work ten times harder in recovery because I want to live. I am DONE with this disease.