Along with the New York Times' mental health coverage, I also like Jezebel's. Their articles spark more personal revelations, like this one on dating and mental illness.
I do agree with the commentators that eating disorders and straight mental illness are not quite the same thing--we live in the same neighborhood, but our paths really only cross at Cafe Low Self-Esteem. Which is a great place to go looking for dates, by the way. You don't know who you'll meet. Plus, the joint is filled with people who secretly think they are unloveable and have a hard time remembering their good points in order to sell themselves on dates. And sometimes they drink a lot when nervous!
I have been on 2 dates in 6 years of being single. They were not successful. I don't know how much of my issue is raw depression versus the fact that I wasn't raised to date and form relationships, and so am very anxious about trying. Plus the whole really fucking smart thing acts as a barrier too, as well as my tendency to see red flags where ever I go (although I would assert that the red flags are actually there, I'm not imagining them, and I'm doing myself a favor by not ignoring them.) And my weight. And my desire for invisibility. So yes, barrel of fun over here.