For me, when I was my lowest weight, I was at university (which I love more than anything else, because I love learning), with a significant other (for the first time in my life), and again, at my lowest weight which felt amazing because I'd never been that size for 7 years. I was eating 350 calories a day and exercising every day for 2 hours so I was starving, but I was constantly distracted by school where I never brought food, talking with my SO, which distracted me from eating, or exercising so I couldn't eat. It felt like I was "in control", and I was losing weight, so I was "happy". I'd only been sick for about 6 months to a year at the time, so my eating disorder hadn't progressed to I was so sick that I couldn't see anything positive from it.

Now I associate it with being sick and frantic, but I can't give it up.

 

The same reason people on drugs or alcohol do with theirs. It's an addiction that changes the way you think. You feel it is helping you while you're slowly killing yourself. You feel you wouldn't have gotten where you needed to be without, and then it takes it all awY from you and leaves you with nothing

 

The only part of this that makes me happy is when I'm well in control and losing weight.