Outside the Lines (lashton)

(49)

The week passes in a blur of struggling to eat food, crying, and giving in to exercise. Before I know it, it's Monday. The program starts at eight in the morning, which sucks because it's so early but it could be worse. At least I'm not waking up at 5:30 like at the last center.

Ashton's driving me to the program, a little early so I can fill out forms, and all I feel is nerves. What if I'm the biggest one there? What if everyone judges me? What if I'm the only man there? What if someone recognises me? All these worries are flying through my head at a rapid pace and I can't seem to calm down my heart beat.

Ashton must notice my worried expression because he ends up telling me, "Hey, don't worry. It's gonna be fine," with an encouraging smile.

When we get there, Ashton comes with me to check in. I appreciate all the support shining through him. Maybe I can even soak up some of his positivity.

After signing in, I'm given some papers to fill out. They take about twenty minutes to finish filling out. Ashton stays with me the whole time, looking around the room and soaking up the environment.

"It seems like a nice place," he tells me as I turn in the forms. The lady I hand them to tells me to follow her, so I hug Ashton tightly before following her, leaving him behind, out of eyesight.

The place is big despite being a suite in a building.

It's 8:01am and everyone is in a gown already, as if exactly at eight they do weigh ins.

This seems to be the case, because I'm given a gown and told to go change. I go to the boys bathroom and change in there, emerging feeling very cold in just the gown.

At the moment, everyone is standing in a line waiting to be weighed for the day. I line up as well and look closely at who's in line.

I am the only boy here; I can feel everyone's eyes on me. And once again, I'm the biggest one here, just like back at the Walden center. It makes me feel like a failure, like I don't deserve to be here... like I'm not as worse off as the rest of them.

I try not to dwell on the thoughts for too long because the line is moving quickly and I'll be next soon.

When my turn does arrive, they don't cover the scale, as they want me to know the number. Thank god, I hate blind weigh ins.

My weight evens out to 147.5 pounds on the scale underneath me. I wish I knew what that was in kilos... I'll have to look it up later.

After being weighed, we're asked to change back into our clothes.

After I do so, still struggling as much as the first time with the wraps on my legs, I sit down with the rest of them. There's nine other girls, one looks completely miserable while another looks really excited. Everyone's emotions are all over the place.

One by one we line up, again, to get our vitals taken. Why didn't they take our vitals when we were getting weighed? I think to myself, but don't have time to dwell on it because I'm next.

I definitely didn't miss the squeeze of this cuff on my arm. The results come back and I ask what they mean. The nurse tells me the numbers aren't where we'd like them to be, but that it is my first day and to not worry about it too much.

After vitals, we have morning check-in. I guess each center calls their daily goals something different. We sit down at the tables around the room and go around sharing how we're feeling today, how our night before went, and what our goal for today in treatment is. But before we do any of that, we go around and share our names and a fun fact about ourselves, since there's two new people. The other new person is named Marissa, and she's honestly gorgeous. Coiled curls, deep brown eyes alike to her skin, and a body type I've keep killing myself to achieve. How could she be unhappy with herself? Why is she here? She looks like perfection.