the fatal question

on the way home from seeing the nutcracker and having lunch/dinner, my mom told me something that really struck a chord. she said, "i will be honest with you erin, there are 2 choices and only 2 choices. i have accepted it myself and you need to as well. you will either get into recovery, or you will die. so you need to figure it out so you can put me and the rest of the people who care about you at peace."
i was stunned. i didn't know whether i should laugh or cry. it seemed like such a horrible, and yet honest thing to say. that is one thing my mom has always been very good at- being brutally honest. however, i don't feel like i can just wake up one day and say, "i'm going to recover right now", nor do i think i am going to wake up one day and say, "fuck you all, i'm choosing to die."
and, my mom has a point. right now, for me, it is a life or death situation. i went into cardiac arrest in may. my body can't handle much of this anymore. i feel like i've been genuinely trying. i am restricting, but i've been purge-free for almost a week now. (which is good for me) i'm not taking diet pills, laxatives, or diuretics anymore, even though it's tempting. i know i'm not trying as hard as i could be, but i haven't given up yet.
i'm at a cross roads, do i sink or do i swim? it's heartbreaking to hear my mom say that she has accepted the fact that i will die if i don't get my shit together. especially after all she's done with our new apartment and how beautiful my room is. the other night i was debating on having a snack, and at first, i decided no. then i walked upstairs to my loft and saw that my mom doing this (decorating, getting new furniture, buying me all new clothes to replace the ones that were too small) it was all her way of saying "i love you erin alexandria collins. i love you and i want you to live. not just live, live happily."
now i'm not sure that's exactly what she was thinking, but through family therapy i have learned that she shows her love by service work. and i have to read things differently with her. she may not hug me every night before i go to bed, or tell me she loves me a million times a day, but she would go to the ends of the earth to do things for me.
so back to the snack thing- i walked upstairs and looked at my beautiful loft, and thought to myself, "what a shame it would be if i died." then i decided to eat the damn snack.
but this question is still really bothering me. i don't know what i want anymore. i know that i don't want to die, but i also know that i don't want to feel fat for the rest of my life.
i just have a lot of thinking to do.