I was tired.  No, exhausted.  When I say I had nothing left it is no exaggeration.  The thought of the next hour of life felt insurmountable yet here I was being asked to do all the things that terrified me.  Eat food.  Keep it.  Sit on my butt and not exercise.  I didn’t have the energy to fight the anxiety if I did the recovery thing, yet if I continued in my eating disorder I wouldn’t be getting additional energy anytime soon.