A relapse?

I find it hard to distinguish what a relapse is. The difference between a minor blip in the never ending pursuit of freedom and a full scale relapse is so fine I cannot decide where I am. From the outside I'm fine; 'healthy', 'glowing', 'curvy' whatever society chooses to label it as. From the inside I'm also fine, but by fine I mean 'mediocre', 'not great', 'average', closer too 'completely rubbish' and stuck in between recovery and relapse. I know almost certainly that I don't want to go back to the horrific days of little more than a diet coke and several cigarettes on the side of a six mile run and a dessert of chewing gum and 2 hours cardio. But I am still longing to hold on to the smallest bit of control I still have. I really do not feel ready to release the grasp of the anchor that I believe, yet know it is a false avowal, is the only supportive coping mechanism I possess. I am desperate to find something so numbing and powerful as the control I get from monitoring my calorie consumption. I am compelled to starve myself yet I am today under the realisation that the strength and determination I am using to defy my eating disorder is by far more monumental and momentous in contrast to my ability to starve myself. I am a strong and august person and I one day hope I believe that. But for now I shall settle with being cemented at fine.