Whenever my life starts looking up, I think I freak out a little.
"But I'm sick!" my brain tells me. "You'd better prove you're sick or you won't be you anymore!"

So I relapse a little, in one way or another (it's my eating disorder this time obviously). That way I know I'm still me. I'm still the sick person I'm familiar with. So this just happened and I'm trying to pull myself back in. Okay, I did it, I proved that I can still be sick externally. And I need to stop before it's all the way out of my control. I've done this a hundred times it feels like. And it never changes. But this time, the acceptance that I have to stop--go back to a "recovery" way of life, eat normally like I know how to do--is like ripping my heart out. It's always hard, getting over these little lapses, but now...
I think because I understand where the desire is coming from, it somehow makes me cling even tighter. I'm rambling, sorry

tl;dr: I lapsed, trying to stop now, hating everything because my ED is a huge part of my identity, so giving it up (again) is like killing a very dear part of myself (that I also hate).

I'm not asking for help or advice or anything, I just needed to get it out. If you read this whole thing, thank you. Hope I'm not being too...something, I don't know.
Sorry.