I'm not sure what I want to say.  I'm not even sure what I'm feeling.  That's not entirely true.  But I've never told anyone what I'm feeling, so I don't know exactly how to verbalize it.  I've tried, but everytime I bring it up I get shut down.  Whether it's my best friend, or my parents, or partners, I get the same responses.  "What are you worried about? You look fine."  "You don't need to lose weight, but if you feel like you do, then just do it."
 
I hate my body.  For as long as I can remember, I've been disgusted by myself.  I was never thin as a kid, but have always been active and athletic.  When I got to college, I was the typical freshman...stopped exercising, started drinking and partying, gained a bunch of weight.  A few years ago, I lost everything I gained and then some - all by doing Weight Watchers.  I got down to about 135lbs, and was fitting happily into a size 8.  I was also in a long-term, healthy relationship and had lots of time to dedicate to my health.
 
Fast forward to now. My realtionship fell apart about a year and a half ago...mainly due to my crazy cycles. (Although my partner was mad too, and an addict.  But she would never admit it.) At the same time work got crazy, I started volunteering for a billion different organizations, and I was contemplating grad school.  Eventually, I started school.  And dating.  I was dating.  Then I met a new person who would eventually become my partner, and very shortly after would move in with me.  It was horrible.  He was diagnosed with Aspergers, and was also expecting a child with someone else.  I had been gaining a bit of weight until I met him, but our relationship was so unhealthy there was no way I could be healthy myself.  So the weight came back.  Quickly.
 
Now I sit here at 158 lbs.  I don't want to be 135 again.  It's not sustainable for me.  But I would really like to be 145.  and I just can't do it.  I can't manage my relationship with food.  I exercise.  I love it.  I love sweating.  I love the high I get when I get to the summit of a mountain.  I love jogging in the 90 degree heat.  I like the way it feels when I feel like I have control over my body.
 
After I eat, no matter what I eat, I feel disgusting.  I look in the mirror and I feel like I'm the most vile creature to ever walk the earth.  The worst part is that I carry my weight in my stomach.  I don't mind my legs or my arms, it's all in my stomach and thighs.  I feel like nobody will ever want to date me, or sleep with me, or love me at all.  Then it carries over...I start scrutinizing my face, and my skin, and every other part of my body. Then the anxiety starts.  Then the panic attack.  Then the depression. 
 
I feel awful.  Hopeless.  I just don't know what to do.  I don't have the money to officially join WW again - and I wouldn't want to anyway.  The thought of counting points is not realistic for the rest of my life.  I KNOW how to eat right.  But I just don't.  I'm a binger.  I have a sweet tooth. 
 
Just had to get this off my chest.