Losing?

I want to start this now, before everything gets too hard.

I don't exactly know what I want out of this, except as a means of getting everything out of my head, away from me.
The blogs I've been reading, they've helped me more than words can express.
I think now's the time to start my own.
A documentation of my life, a record of me.
 

I’m losing my battle with Anorexia. ED has taken control of my thoughts and my actions, rendering me pretty much useless. I cheat, I lie, I hide things, I throw things away... I take advantage of every possible moment. If I can get away with not having this, not having as much of that, having less than what I need, I will.

I’m ruining myself.

Or rather, ED is making me ruin myself.

I'm conscious of what I'm doing, but at the same time, I'm not in the right frame of mind to stop myself, or put an end to it. I'm letting it happen.

I'm letting ED take the steering wheel, which happens to be my brain. 

A car needs fuel to go, right?

Sticking with my metaphor of a human being a car (not very imaginative), a body needs its fuel too. Which is food. A body needs food to function. Yes?

ED doesn't seem to think so.

A CAR DOESN'T RUN ON AIR, ED!

A HUMAN DOESN'T, EITHER!

When I cheat, I'm not cheating my Mum or my Dad, I'm cheating myself.

I'm letting myself down, I'm hurting myself.

My parents, they hurt, too. They're hurting because they can't stop me from hurting myself.

They aren't the ones trying to hurt me, like ED tries to tell me.

They are helping me.

Them intervening, them taking away the control I don't have, but ED has. ED doesn't like that, therefore I don't like it.

But I need it.

ED's trying to tell me my parents hate me, they're trying to make me fat and miserable. They're trying to make my life Hell.

No. What's making my life a living Hell is my eating disorder, yet I'm clinging to it like I need it.

I don't need it. I don't want it.

But I'm not letting go.

I... depend on ED.

My house is going to be just like the hospital was. I wont be cooking dinner anymore, I wont be making my breakfast anymore, I wont be organising my snacks.

I wont have any say about food. 

Do I need it? Yes.

Do I want it? No.

I'm losing the battle.

My parents are my soldiers, fighting for my life.

They're not fighting against me, but against ED.

They're fighting with me.

I'm going to hate them. I know I am. This week is going to be the hardest week I've ever had.

Not just for me, but for them, too.

I'm not ready for it, but I have no choice.

And maybe that's what's best right now.

This is my medicine.