Im in constant conflict. With everything. I feel my mind is being pulled in all directions. Everything having two sides. Everything being a battle. My discharge date is fast approaching and I should be excited. Part of me wants to leave part of me is terrified. I saw a picture of myself at my skiniest. Part of me can see I’m ill but part of me (the bigger part) wants to look like that again. Part of me knows I need to eat but part of me refuses to eat. Part of me wants to live but part of me wants to die. Part of me wants to fight this but part of me me wants to give up. Everything is conflict. I feel like the hospital had given up on me. I feel like I’m a lost cause. They don’t care. I’ve owned up and admitted I’m going to lose weight as soon as I leave. But they don’t care. Simply telling me to challenge the thought and eat. It’s not that easy. If If was I’d be better. Of it was I’d be recovered. But the reality is that Anorexia has The highest mortality rate of any psychological disorder. And statistics for recovery are shocking. They indicate that only 30%-40% of anorexics ever fully recover, and 20–30% may partially recover. The rest not recovering and having chronic anorexia for life. I can’t see myself recovering right now. I don’t see how it’s possible. I don’t get when these thoughts will go away. I don’t know when I’ll stop wishing to be thin. I don’t know when I’ll find it ok to eat. I don’t know when I’ll stop taking laxative. I don’t know when I’ll want to live. Ana has ruined me and she still ruins me. She’s taken over and destroyed my life. Living by numbers controlled by food. It’s not a life I’d wish on anyone. The desire to be thin is so strong. I long to see my bones. I long to see my ribs. I long for people to look at me and stare at me because I’m too thin. To Notice me. That’s what I want. To be noticed. To be thin. To go back to how I was in may. I’ve never been happy but I preferred my body when it was bones. I feel so fat now. Too fat to be in hospital. I feel that people think I’m fine but reality is since being In hospital I’ve just got worse. Mentally I’m f****d. Mentally Ana has won. I have no desire to eat. No desire to beat it. She still Controls me. Every minute. And shes getting stronger, louder, ironically she’s getting bigger. She’s taking over me again. To the point I can’t even order a skinny latte. I’m skipping meals. I’m being hungry all day. It’s like she craves it. I get a high off being hungry. I have so many worries. So many problems. But I’m sick of being a burden so for now I’m “ok” that’s all I’m going to say. I’m ok. People need to get on with there lives without worrying about me. I’m alone but I’ve got Ana for company she’s always with me. She won’t leave me. She’s comfort. It’s like it some weird way she’s my friend. She gets me. She tells me what to do. She comforts me. She gives me a purpose. She’s always there. She’s a friend yet an enemy. She’s confusing me. But for now. She’s all I have. And she knows it.