I am new to the forum. I battled Manorexia back in my 20's, was hospitalized twice and then entered therapy. I was good for so long, but recently I have once again fallen into extreme disgust with myself and I feel like everyone is looking at me as if I'm some kind of monster. (I'm too embarassed to say how old I am now... :-(

I wrote a poem last night. Can anyone relate to this?

To get my fill of being hungry
brought by pain from deep within
isolation, lonliness, unbridled fury
these will usher me to being thin.
Keeping anger just below the surface
as a way to strive for more
motivated by their eyes of loathing,
mocking, and even scorn.
I push myself much harder and harder
feeling the pain of every step
for I will dance upon the graves
of those who laughed, when once I wept.

There is no one. I am alone, and I don't want to go to a mental ward, so I'm not even going to tell my therpist, although she has been wonderful for me. But I am completely given over to listening to 'Ana' again. I hate what I've become...