I devoted so much of my time for the past three months trying to get over an eating disorder with no ones help and I did succeed for awhile. but just as I feel like I’m starting to get better, I find myself making turns and going straight back to old habits. like a sick and cliche love story, I hate this disease but it’s a part of me and like my first love, it keeps leaving and coming back. like a small flu but with strong syptoms of self destruction and a desire to harm yourself. I’m torn between wanting to get thin and wanting to get better. I’ve gone through lonely periods of my life, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt this alone in my entire life.