Stealing My Time

Once again, the scourge of anorexia us stealing away my time. I think far too much about food, exercise, weight and eating disorders. It consumes my mind whenever I have free time. It makes moving forward in my life a sluggish journey. I'm so tired of it, yet too scared of what my body would expand to if I stopped grapsing onto the few aspects fo the eating disorder that I still feel I need. I feel that if I stopped weighing in, I would balloon to 125 pounds (which would actually be fairly normal for my height and age). Considering I am very uncomfortable with my present 98 pounds, I feel that is too dangerous to contemplate. I've been that size before for brief periods and although my concentration and thinking and overall health improved, I was not psychologically ready and rarely let myself be seen in public becasue I felt so monstrous. My current size is a compromise: not thin enough to look anorexic (although technically I supposed it is--barely) but thin enough to have people constantly comment on how skinny I am and speculate about why. I need to hear that I am thin from time to time. I know that is stupid, but it is positive reinforcement for being relativley restrained in regards to my intake. It is validation that I am doing something I am supposed to be doing. I am thin enough to see bones, but not so thin that I can't easily hide the bones. I am thin enough to wear a 0, but not so thin that I need to buy children's clothing. Thin enough to feel ill, (and yes, I still feel the need to punish myself with slight ill health and steady hunger) but not so ill that I can't work or go to school. I'm on the fence still. Anorexia or normality? I guess I haven't decided.