Outside the Lines (lashton)

(27)

It's been a little over a week being at The Walden Center. Being in here means I missed Michaels birthday. On the twentieth of November, my parents were suppose to visit since them and my friends switched off days they would visit me. But on Michael's birthday, I saw the three of them walk through the door. Michael said it wouldn't be a birthday if I wasn't there. It warmed my heart and cheered me up from the stress of being here.

In a little less than a week, on the twenty seventh, it will be my moms birthday. She isn't showing it, but I know she's upset that I'll be missing her birthday. It won't have been the first time I've missed her birthday - the band has made me miss one before - but this will be the first birthday of hers I'll miss because I'm in treatment. That's what's upsetting her.

It's only gotten a tad easier being here. I'm use to the schedule now, normalized to waking up at 5:30 at the earliest. I've become really good friends with Olivia, Sammy, Marie, and Steven. They support me through meals and after meals. The rest of the people here are really nice as well. I'm also surprised that the nurses are kind, I didn't expect them to be so caring.

What's hard is that I'm up to 1,300 calories a day now. It goes up 100 calories each day I'm here. What scares me the most is that one day, I'll be up to almost 4,000 calories a day so I can gain weight. How can I handle 4,000 calories when I can barely handle 1,300 calories?! It's insane here. But maybe I'm the insane one having done this in the first place.

Something else that's easier now is eating, since I'm actually feeling hunger again. Before I didn't even feel hungry. It's harder to eat when you (1) don't have a desire to eat at all and (2) don't even feel hungry. So in that aspect, eating has gotten easier. It's still hard though. It's a fight to raise the fork to my mouth and actually swallow the food. Some days are easier than others.

Today isn't one of those days. It starts with a blood test at 5:30 with a new nurse I've never seen before. She pokes my arm multiple times but she couldn't find my vein. She leaves shortly after saying someone will be back soon to try again. I slump down in my bed, knowing I won't be able to fall asleep again, and wait for the daily weigh in.

The depression is looming over me today and I barely want to leave my bed when weigh in time comes around. My room mate is the one who helps me.

"Luke come on, we gotta get up," Steven says. All I do is groan, saying I don't care. The hint of sadness in my tone must have alarmed him, because he's then asking me what's wrong.

"I'm not having a good day," I say, "I don't want to leave my bed."

"Why?" he asks me curiously.

"Because, it means I'll have to eat and I don't want to do that today," I confess.

"Mate, we have to eat. We're here to get better, aren't we? Not eating would just put us back in old behaviours," he sighs, "I know it's tough some days, you're just having a bad day. But we're all here for you and support you." He pats me on the back through my comforter and it gives me a little strength. After a few more words of motivation from Steven, I finally drag myself out of bed as a nurse comes to check on us, wondering why we haven't gone out to get our weigh-in done yet.

The day passes uneventfully, except for my anxiety attack after lunch. I ask for an anti-anxiety medication to help with it seeing as I couldn't get myself to calm down. Today just isn't my day.

Visiting hour comes around and when Michael, Ashton, and Calum come in, I can tell it's written all over my face of how awful a day I've been having.

"You doing okay?" Ashton asks me, hesitantly looking at my hands on the table. It looks like he wants to reach out for them.

I ruffle my hair and respond, "Today hasn't been the best day..."

"Anything we can do about it?" Michael asks me carefully, like he's trying to avoid breaking glass.

"Just... just tell me about what's been going on with you guys," I say with a tired smile.

And they do. They've been playing music together to let off some steam and going to interviews. The questions about me haven't ceased and Calum asks me if I want to come clean about everything. I frantically shake my head, feeling anxious at the prospect. I'm definitely not ready for the world knowing about me when I've barely accepted it myself. Ashton and Calum get into a little argument after that, Ashton wondering why Calum would even suggest something like that. It doesn't stop until Michael sees that it's stressing me out and he puts a stop to it himself. They both then apologize.

They ask me what I did that day and I shake the question off, instead asking what else they've been doing. They seem to understand I don't want to talk today, and they take over for me which I'm extremely grateful for. The pleasant distraction of their conversation comes to an end after the hour is up. They all stand and give out hugs to me, Ashton being last and his hug being longer than the others. It's nice though. I squeeze him back, holding onto him like a lifeline. His hugs are the best. They always seem to give me some hope while his positivity seeps through the embrace.

"You're doing great, just keep going," he whispers once he pulls away. I nod and he ruffles my hair, turning around to leave. They all wave and I wave back at their retreating bodies.

Once it's time for bed, I can't fall asleep. I'm kept awake by my thoughts. I'm getting fat fat fat, but I'm not suppose to care. How can I not care when it's the only thing I've cared about for so long? Sure, I didn't like the way I looked when I came in here but I'd rather look how I did then compared to now, I'm getting so much fatter. It's only been a week. I don't feel like I can do this. What if I can't do this, what if I can't recover? What if I leave and go back to my old ways? What if I die? Being here has made me realize that I want to live. I want to have a long healthy life with my friends, family, and career.

I start to work myself into a panic and when the nurse comes in to check on us like they do every 10 minutes, he sits down with me and tries to calm me down. He instructs me to take deep breaths and to clear my mind. I do as he says and the budding panic soon falls away from me. I ask for a sleep aid that night, knowing I'll just work myself up again with my thoughts if I don't get myself to sleep.

I fall asleep in a quarter of an hour, finally leaving the day behind me.