I hate my stomach

When I was younger and my disorder first started, I hated my legs. I thought thin legs meant being skinny. Like that was the meaning of being skinny. Having tiny legs. I did sit ups because that's just what people with eating disorders do. Or that's what I told myself anyway.
But I hate my stomach. I hate the stretch marks. I hate how big it is. I want to cry when I change. I don't want to live like this anymore.
I want the head rush. I want the excuses. I want to be able to starve my ass off again. Right now, I just want to cry because I feel like such a failure. I want it back. I want to eat there. I don't want to eat and eat. I'm so tired of it. I'm so tired of the excuses I make. I'm so tired of being fat. I'm just so sick of it. I want to cry. I want to feel my ribs and hip bones. I want to know if I can do that just one more sit up. I want people who will push me and push me. I'm tired of letting myself down.
I want ana friends. I'm tired of doing this alone. I want people who will talk to me, remind me of moments like this where I felt low. Remind me of times when I felt like I could do it all. I want to text people who will remind me to stay thin. I feel like I'm screaming into a void
Much Love,
Alex
Edited:
I need a plan. I need to figure out a routine. I need to figure out how to get this weight off.
Alright, everyday, for now, I'm going to do ten burpees and go for at least a thirty minute walk and do two ten minute sessions of yoga (yoga only holds my attention for about ten minutes at a time). The internets says that that should be about 290. Not quite enough. I need to do more. There needs to be more. There needs to be a way.