My Eating Disorder (COMPLETE)

They Found Out

You know, I wonder all the time what caused my eating habits to get this bad.

I've never been bullied at school, maybe called a few names, but that was all in elementary.

No one called me ugly, only myself.

I guess I'm the reason it got this bad.

-May 1st

—

Whenever I went into the kitchen, I felt the stares. The stares of my parents or sister. It made my back prickle as I went to throw away a water bottle or some scraps of fruit.

They're disappointed, a lone voice would whisper as I hurried back to my room.

Were they disappointed that I didn't grab food? That I hid myself from them? That their daughter is...

I locked myself in my room.

———

"Sunny," my mom said, coming into my room. It was a Sunday. Having no homework or energy to do my chores, I laid in bed.

I was on Instagram.

"Would you like some chicken?"

I looked at the time. 12:00pm.

"Later," I said, liking a random post.

She sighed. I've been saying "later" or "not hungry" a lot. It was a pathetic excuse at this point.

She would usually leave by now. but instead she edged near my bed. I lowered my phone and sat up.

Her expression was stern. "You need to eat."

God, I thought, why now?

I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

"I'm not hungry."

My mom shook her head.

"You always say that! You must be hungry. You barely leave your bed and you look tired all the time!"

I clutched my phone as a rise of irritation came to me. "I'm fine!"

"You're fine? Look at yourself!"

Don't you think I do that?

"I'm healthy."

My mom did not believe a single word that came out of my mouth.

"Don't worry about it," I said. Can't she just leave? "I'm just..."

It pained to say the next few words.

"On a diet."

A rush of embarrassment filled me. Old Sunny didn't do diets. She didn't care about how she looked like. Diets were foreign in this household.

"Diet?" My mom repeated in disbelief. "You're starving yourself! Look at your arms! They're so thin!"

They really weren't, and this wasn't the messed-up part of my brain talking. Okay, maybe it was, but my mom never knew what "thin" really was.

I raised my blanket to my chin.

"Don't worry about it, mom."

She furrowed her brows, concerned.

"¿Que estás hablando? What are you saying?"

I ducked my head.

"I'll eat later."

My words tasted rotten. I was never good at lying.

My mom started muttering under her breath, furious.

"We're going to the doctor in fifteen minutes. Go change."

My slight panicking bursted through the roof. My heart started beating faster and my throat felt dry.

Doctor?

"No! I'm fine, seriously! I—" but she was already leaving.

I stumbled out of the bed. "Mom!"

She turned, and gave me the deadliest glare I've ever seen on someone. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't...

"Shit." I whispered to myself, feeling my eyes brim with tears. "Fucking shit."

—-

Slowly, I changed my clothes. What do I do? The doctors will find out what's wrong. The last time I went, they noticed my weight loss, but didn't quiz me on it.

Now though, they'll know something was up.

I left my room, eyeing the fruit on the table. Maybe eating some will show my mom I'm fine...

"Sunny!" My baby brother yelled, cutting my train of thought. "Wanna play Minecraft? Wait—where are you going?"

"The doctor," I said, still thinking about ways I could get out of this.

"Are you okay?"

I turned to look. His big eyes were searching for non existent injuries.

"No," I answered softly. He won't know the full meaning behind those words. He was just six.

I offered a smile. "Don't worry, your sister is strong though."

—

I was not strong.