Feeling really pessimistic about recovery, lots of shit talk, so read with caution

I'm feeling very torn between wanting to recover and wanting to run back to my ED. There's like a small sliver of me that wants to recover, and that's the part of me that wants a future, to be self-sufficient, to not have to rely on my parents for everything, to work with kids, to be an inspiration for others, to be joyful, to live for God. But right now, most of me wants none of that. I feel really defeated. Like I can do the actions of recovery, but I hate every single part of it. I hate giving up a huge chunk of my life. Something that has kept me so safe, yet miserable at the same time.

Do I like living in misery? That's such a silly question. No, but yes. I don't know why, that makes no sense. When I'm in my eating disorder and living in misery, it's like a bubble that keeps me sheltered from everything else. I don't want to be happy. I do, but I don't. Everything is so confusing. I don't want anything to do with recovery, yet I'm doing all these things to seek help. I want to touch it, but dare I? It's terrifying to get anywhere close to.

It's not just gaining weight or not losing weight or eating that's hard, it's letting go of my eating disorder, my world I live in. I would love to just eat food and not have these evil thoughts running through my head. Gaining weight freaks me out, not because I think I'm getting fat (although those thoughts run through my mind as the weight steadily increases), it's knowing that I'm losing a big part of myself.

Tonight my dietitian basically told me that I have no excuse not to meet my minimum caloric requirements, that I HAVE to supplement if I'm below my minimum. But you know what, I don't want to. I don't want recovery anymore because it sucks. It's not even about not wanting to gain weight or losing weight or eating. I just want to be miserable in my eating disorder and not let it go. Fuck recovery, that shit blows. In fact, my eating disorder can kill me and I wouldn't give a shit. Because I'd be dead.

I don't know why I'm doing all these recovery oriented things. Because I don't want it, not fully. I'm so tempted to just cancel everything, and crawl back into my eating disordered life. And fucking "waste away" until I die.

Excuse my language. I'm angry. I don't know why. I guess I'm angry because everything that I am is basically being taken away from me and I'm not ready for it.