If there is more hell than basically being eating disordered, it's the process of attempting to recover, relapsing, and then being stuck with a 'normal' body. Then comes the struggle of trying to get back into the 'swing' of things before recovery. Somehow everything seems harder after trying to recover and failing. Weight loss doesn't come as easily and you're left with more mental scars to stunt your progress. Looking at me now, you would have no idea i'm an anorexic and bulimic. Most people (including myself) would raise an eyebrow at my using that term to describe myself right now becausefrankly my body is not emaciated. But no matter what my body weight has been or is, my mind has still remained emaciated; wasted. Eating disorders, the mental and physical issues that surround them, they're all complex. My body speaks for me because my mind doesn't wish to. My degree of emaciation has served as something i could pride myself on for so long. The less emaciated, the more shame. The more emaciated, the more pride. Though sometimes it seems the thinner i get the fatter the person i see becomes. I, like so many others, feel that we can only justify out EDs by how our bodies' look. Which makes sense, being that we're dealing with an eating disorder here. So i'm experiencing an even deeper degree of frustration and desperation when i look at my body and it looks 'normal', too round. I remember there was a girl named Caroline, nicknamed Kiki, who i was in recovery with. We saw eachother's best and worst sides and we battled every mental hurdle that comes with recovery. She went on to recover quite well, but here i am again. I wonder how she is. I'm just rambling on and on. I always fail at writing my feelings in a way that makes sense. | 
