Fragile Bones

Chapter Thirty-Nine

As it turns out, four weeks can go by pretty fast. It was easy to fall into the mundane rhythm they had at the clinic, and even easier to make friends when I had Evie with me. Every day felt blended into the next one, and at one point, the only way I could tell how long I had left here was when Asher said something to remind me. He said he was counting down the days, and convinced me (along with Ms. Lee) that he wouldn't be leaving me while I was away.

He wanted to come visit, as my parents had a couple of times, but I directed him to stay away each time he asked. I was happy that he respected my wishes, but there was a part of me that still craved for his company. Ms. Lee, who I had increasingly grown comfortable with communicating my feelings to, said that this was all normal.

She also said that it was normal to eat.

That was the hardest part of this experience. I could live with the boring days, and the lackluster activities, and the screaming matches among some of the residents, but the food scared me each time I saw it. It was surprising to see others interact with it similarly, because eating disorders felt so lonely when you had them. An entire plate of food was thrown against the wall on more than one occasion of my stay, though it was never by me. Having others around me who were diagnosed with anorexia, or bulimia, or OSFED, allowed me to convince myself that what I was doing was normal, at least for a short while.

There was one instance where a girl had put up such a violent fight to the food, they were forced to equip her with a feeding tube. That scared the shit out of me, though Evie said it was pretty normal. They had gone through their own experience with one, and warned me to try and prevent that as much as I could. I listened to them, and didn't chime in with any complaints as others did for the rest of my time.

Ms. Lee met with me often, each session seemingly more invasive than the last, but that was her job. Each session was followed with a weigh-in, where they never let me see the numbers, no matter how much I begged. It was easy to see that I had gained weight during my stay, you'd have to be blind to see otherwise. Everyone could see it, plain as day, and that filled me with dread. It couldn't have been a lot, number wise, but it was noticeable. It also made me feel like a tub of lard, like there were disgusting chunks of fat just churning inside of me. I hated feeling like that.

Still, I ate the more they told me that it was okay. The more they told me that I didn't need to place all my self importance into numbers. That terrified me as well. Each time I took a bite, two opposing sides of my mind began their war. Ms. Lee told me a month wasn't enough to cure an eating disorder, and I may always carry a little of it with me, but it was enough to make a change. I was supposed to see her once every couple of weeks after I'm out, to make sure I'm not falling into the same bad habits. When discussing this with my parents, they adamantly agreed. I knew the whole thing made them uncomfortable, so I obliged to make them happy.

My father had moved out while I was away, although he told me if I wanted him to stay for the sake of my sanity, he would. There really was no sense in delaying the inevitable, so I told him to go ahead. He promised to see me often, and for the first time in a while, I believed his promise.

Charlie tried to visit me numerous time, like Asher, but I rejected her queries too. I didn't expect it all to be so draining, and since they would have to see me when I got out, I didn't want them seeing the process that packed on the weight. I figured it would be awkward as well, just sitting in the visiting area with nothing to talk about. Charlie tried to keep me up-to-date on the happenings at the high school, but I really didn't care too much. I would find out when I went back.

My last session with Ms. Lee was on the day I was supposed to leave. It wasn't a goodbye since I still had to come see her for the foreseeable future, but it almost felt like one. I was petrified that she would tell me I hadn't made enough progress, as they told Evie who ended up staying through my time as well as theirs, but that was evidently not the case. She warned me that should I relapse, I would have to be readmitted, and to remember all that she, and the other workers there, had drilled into my head.