I stumbled upon this Sylvia Plath poem, "In Plaster," when I was in high school. I think it sums up the dichotomy of eating disorders very well. Here is the last stanza; I like to think this is the point I'm at in my own recovery. Read the entire poem sometime, if you get the chance. I wish Ms. Plath had stuck around to see what a difference her words made in other people's lives.
"I used to think we might make a go of it together -
After all, it was a kind of marriage, being so close.
Now I see it must be one or the other of us.
She may be a saint, and I may be ugly and hairy,
but she'll soon find out that that doesn't matter a bit.
I'm collecting my strength; one day I shall manage without her,
and she'll perish with emptiness then, and begin to miss me."
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