It’s now years I’m like this, depressed, with ED, obsessed with exercise, but the worse are rest days… especially on the weekend I feel the depression hit hard and all my routines and exercise, and my eating right to not gain weight crumble to show me that in reality the life I’m living is empty, no one really cares about me or believes in me, and I am the first one. I’m a lazy ass, and if it wasn’t for my fear of weight I would spend most of my day in bed doing nothing and waiting for this absurd t the ing we call life to pass. It seems to me I have no passion, and the only thing I slightly like I’m not good at. 
For now the only things keeping me on my legs are the regular walks with my dog that let me stress out, and exercise. Am I really only this. Is this it?
Best part is I’m afraid to get out with people for my ED, but it would be even difficult to find someone to hang out as I don’t like the usual things like just hanging out to drink your ass off.
I struggle to find purpose in my life, or even a slight glimmer of hope that motivates me to go on.