before it's too late...

i sit here, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee cup after cup. bad habit i know, but somehow it helps. well, i guess that depends on your definition of "help". for me it means that i'm able to starve myself. which leads me to the question, how the hell did i get back to this place? how could i possibly forget that day with carson that i cried in the car, begging god to not let me die? how could i forget sitting on the floor as the nurses searched my stuff and confiscated my contraband, crumpled up into a ball of manic sobs, pleading for them to help me. "i'm dying," i said, "joanna, please help me, i don't want to die." how could i forget standing up and having to hold onto the wall for dear life so i didn't fall over? how could i forget staying awake all those nights, fearing that if i went to sleep i would never wake up again? maybe it's not that i've forgotten because clearly i haven't, maybe it's just that my eating disorder won't allow me to believe it. the past year honestly feels like a dream, and though i know the doctors told my mom i wouldn't survive another relapse and re-feeding process, somewhere in my mind i can't believe it. i think even when i was sitting there, curled up in a ball hiding my face and begging joanna to not let me die, i couldn't really believe it. i said it, but i don't think i meant it. do i want to die? absolutely not. but there is still this part of me that likes to think that i'm invincible. that somehow, someway things won't end up the way they were last time. my eating disorder keeps kicking me for not losing "enough" weight, but honestly, i've lost quite a bit, and i shouldn't have lost any. i'm losing weight at the same pace that i did last time i left sheppard pratt, and i'm as symptomatic as i was the last time too, if not worse. i have stopped binging and purging for the most part, but i have replaced that with restricting, which logically i know only leads to binging and purging. i like to pretend that i'm okay, "i'm fine," i tell my therapist, "i'm perfectly healthy." however, i know that's not true. my blood pressure is lower, i'm orthostatic, i've lost a substantial amount of weight, and i'm sure my potassium and phosphorus levels are off. logically i know what is happening to my body, but emotionally i can't bring myself to fully believe it. which brings me to another question, what is it going to take for me to believe it? am i going to have to nearly die in a friends car again to realize that this is serious? i wish i could make my emotional mind believe what my logical mind does. logically i know i'm not overweight, i just FEEL overweight. logically i know i'm not a bad person, i just FEEL bad. logically i know i'm deserving of basic needs, i just FEEL undeserving. it's so frustrating. it's like i'm split in half between what i know and what i believe. so how do i start to believe what i know? i'm not sure, but what i am sure of is that i have to figure it out soon; before it's too late.