It's been a while..

It's been a while since I last wrote. I've come to the conclusion that I'm not even writing these for someone to see, I could care less if anyone did see it. I'm writing this because I need to write it somewhere. I've relapsed three times in the past month, and I feel like shit. I'm so sick and tired of it. I don't want to relapse anymore. I don't want to feel like I have to purge all the time. I also don't want to smoke anymore. I had a cigarette tonight, and I had to go and force myself to throw up right away because of how sick I felt. That's not normal, that's not healthy and it's not worth it. I want to be thin, but I don't want to be hospitalized.
On another note, it's been two months since our breakup. I realized last night that it's not you that I miss, it's being wanted. Being talked to, being cared about, having someone to be there for me. I thought I just couldn't get over you, I kept getting smiles and butterflies when you would text me, and I thought I still wanted to be with you. But I don't. I can't. As much as I care about you, and love you nonetheless (as a friend), you're not worth the pain and mental instability I went through the for the past five months.
At first I felt like I was not good enough for you. You proved that to be true by cheating on me, using me and ignoring me. I strived to lose weight, to look prettier, anything to make you proud to be dating me. I shouldn't have to do that. I feel as though our relationship damaged me more than I already was. Thanks for that.
I just want to be happy with who I am, and I feel that I can't because of how mentally instable I am. I know I shouldn't blame others for how I feel, but it is easier than accepting the blame myself. I blame my dad, for cheating on my mother and leaving his family, thus proving that you really don't know anyone. I blame my mom, for not paying more attention to me when I needed it the most. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a great mother, but that one night, you knew I purged. You knew I went into the bathroom after eating at a restaurant and I forced myself to throw up. You just amde a joke about it and went on with your night. I blame my brothers, for always calling me fat, calling me a whore, a slut, and etcetera. I blame everyone who bullied me when I was younger. You all corrupted me and convinced me to think that I am hideous and will never be accepted. I wish I could accept myself as I am, but I know I will not be content until I am thin and beautiful.
I want to get help, but I'm scared. I'm scared of what people might say, I'm scared of people looking down on me for my ED and mental disorder, but most importantly, I'm scared that I will only get worse.