Restricting and exercising, my Default mode

My default mode is being obsessive about how little I eat and how much I exercise. What has kept me relatively healthy the past two years is keeping busy. Often, I have more than one job and I have tons of hobbies keeping my mind off anorexia. Photography, hiking, visiting museums and gardens, music, art, writing--this keeps me sane. I currently go to school and work two jobs, in addition to volunteer work. But the minute my brain has a chance to relax, it is instantly wondering how my calories I've eaten versus my much I've burned, how I can lose all my fat without burning away my muscle, how thin I can become without anyone noticing, how thin I can become and still function. . . and these thoughts are hard to stop. They are automatic. I dream about my pelvic bones bursting through my skin, I have nightmares of hospitals and becoming fat. I dream of gyms and running and food I won't eat. Even in my dreams I am afraid to eat and afraid people will point out how fat I am. Keep in mind that my BMI is under 17--that is pretty underweight, not remotely fat, but I still see fat everywhere. I never stopped seeing the fat. Even at my thinnest, I scarily looked at the bones of my hips, thought they were too wide, thought I needed to lose another 10 pounds before I would not be fat. I was 72 pounds and saw bone everywhere, but I also saw fat everywhere. I don't quite understand how this works--how could I possibly see my tailbone and pelvic bones and think my hips were fat? I called myself a voluptuous skeleton. The same distortion, to a lesser degree and with more insight is applicable today--I see my cheekbones and eyesockets are unpleasantly fleshless, my neck is revoltingly sinewy and bony, I see my ribs and vertebrae even through clothing (depending on what I wear and how many layers) and my hips are sharp with bone. It is not extreme, but it is not healthy. But I also am preoccupied with all the fat--the fat layer covering my arms when not in use (the skin is tight and veined when I execs) and the fat area on the back of my thighs. I see fat on my stomach, too, though this layer is close to disappearing. Fat breasts--surrounded by bone, happily. So what do I do when I see this? Do I think I need to boost my calories even though I logically know that is what I should do? No, I think "pudgy, need to get some more exercise and eat less." Emotionally, I react like I'm seeing a fat person that need to get in better shape for health and aesthetic reasons. The chubbiness scares me because I associate extra fat with cancer, death, disability, mental illness, hospitals, diabetes, heart failure, lymphatic disorders and suffocation. A fat body is a dangerous body to live in, is my visceral reaction. The same part of me (this is not my logical conscious thought) thinks that skinny is healthy, the less flesh the better. Extremely emaciated people don't look healthy to me, but people ranging from 10-40 pounds underweight look very fit to the diseased part of my brain. I'm trying to figure out how to integrate what I know with these weird emotionally driven ideas about what type of body is healthiest. I believe it started extremely young and was uncorrected for so many years that it is ingrained. Therefore, I am doing battle as an adult who knows better with a nine year old girl that thought no amount of exercise could be too much. She thought she needed to see bones to be healthy, she thought bones were beautiful, light, free, energy. She equated mass with fat, even if the mass she saw was muscle mass. Anything not bone needed to go. And since she didn't reduce herself to bone, although she became too thin and bruised and cold with flaky skin and brittle hair, she never thought herself thin. Never. If I saw what others see, perhaps I could be kinder to myself. My fat phobia is very strong and I seem to act on the misconception that I am fat. If I saw thin, I could better feed myself without feeling like I was doing something harmful.
Feeling a little down on myself today because I've tried to ignore anorexia all week, only to have it crop up unwanted in my dreams and aimless thoughts.
Begone anorexia! Flee--you are not wanted here!