READ AT OWN RISK. WARNINGS APPLY IN THIS CHAPTER.
recovery is incredibly hard to go through, especially if you're trying to do it on your own/with a partner. Its a horrible process, sometimes even worse than having the disorder itself. Everything ive written here is from my own experience so I would appreciate no flames please. The next few chapters will all be similar to this because, like I mentioned in the story, recovery doesn't take a few days. For some it takes YEARS. And it's incredibly hard to begin with.
Anyway, I've had a truly terrible week, some reviews would really cheer me up :)
Dear diary;
It's day one after I told Teddy I'd attempt to recover. I don't think that I can do it though. I just, I can't let go of my control over food. I genuinely don't think I can. How can I stop myself throwing everything up? How can I make myself eat it? I haven't eaten more than a fistful of food in six months. How can I stop the voices in my head that tell me that I'm a worthless failure? I really don't think I can. I don't want to let Teddy down. Or Al. But it's too much to even think about. I'm not sure I'll survive this. I'm not sure I'll come out the other side with everything in tact. Especially not Teddy. Please give me strength enough to do this.
I stare at the plate of food that Teddy put in front of me ten minutes ago. I still haven't taken a bite. It's ironic, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches used to be my favourite as a child. I would eat them until the cows came home. yet now all I can think about is the calories and fat content. Bread (180 calories, 6g fat), Peanut butter (110 calories, 8g fat), Strawberry jam (60 calories, 2g fat). Total; 350 calories, 16g fat. This is more than I've eaten in a whole day in one sandwich. Add the banana and orange juice into it, 600 calories, 18g fat.
I can't do this.
Breathing. Heavy breathing. Moaning, shouting.
I stare at Teddy pleadingly but he just stands there with a determined look in his eye that screams he means business. I wonder if he would let me off if I started crying? I have to do this. I promised him I would do this. Just for him. I have to do it. But all that fat sticking to my body. I take a deep breath and gingerly pick up the sandwich on the plate after cutting it into quarters. I know what I'm doing. I'm portioning. One quarter couldn't be too bad right? 88 calories, 4g fat. I could do that. I wouldn't gain too much from that right? I'm still in control. I'll just eat one quarter. He'll be happy that I ate anything. Right?
Taking a small bite of it I could immediately feel my head filling up with thoughts.
Breathing. Heavy breathing. Fat. Moaning. Lots of moaning. Stupid. Don't eat it! Worthless. Dad was bent over the table. Bitch. She was under him. Pathetic. He told me not to tell. Idiot. I couldn't tell. It would destroy mum. LIAR!
I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I put the sandwich back down and took another deep breath before feeling them eventually begin to fall. Slamming my palm down on the table I began to cry harder. The flood gates had opened. I felt arms wrap around my shoulders and another chair being pulled up beside me. Turning my body around I collapsed into Teddy's chest, blubbering like a little baby. I couldn't help it. Even to me it looked pathetic that I couldn't even eat a damn quarter of a sandwich. It's a sandwich for crying out loud. Children as young as one eat sandwiches. Why can't I?
350 calories. 16g FAT. FAT. FAT. FAT.
Wrenching myself from Teddy's grip I slammed my fist into the table once again and grabbed a quarter of the sandwich, shoving it into my mouth and swallowing it practically whole. Like the little fat bitch I am. I felt sick. Instantly I felt sick. I turned back to Teddy and buried my face in his chest again, attempting to ignore the knee jerk reaction to run to the bathroom and purge it all. I was doing this for Teddy. All for Teddy. He wanted me to get better. I owed it to him to get better. I had to do it. For him.
Fat fat fat. 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 14, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110. Keep going whale.
"Make it stop," I muttered into his chest.
"Make what stop, sweetheart?" he asked in a whisper, his lips near my ear, his hand running through my hair comfortingly.
"The voices. Please make them stop." I felt Teddy's hand still for a moment in my hair, before resuming it's stroking, but in a more rigid manor. Almost like he was trying to stop myself grabbing my head in his hand and giving it a good shake.
"What are they saying?" I shook my head, too ashamed to tell him. He would have me carted off to an institution the second he knew. At the very least the mental ward in St. Mungos. "Will you let me see for myself?" he whispered. I looked up at him, tears still streaming down my face and bit my lip. "Please, Lil. If I'm going to help you, I need to know what's going on in there." I nodded my head, instantly feeling anxious over what he was going to find there. "Just think about what they were saying."
The moment he entered my mind I could feel the mantra going round and round my thoughts again.
Fat stupid ugly worthless bitch. You're such a pathetic person. Liar Lily, you're a liar. Fat stupid ugly worthless bitch. Liar liar. 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110. Keep going. 111, 112,113,114,115,116,117,118,119,120. You're ruining all your hard work. He doesn't love you. He just wants you to be fat.
As that last thought came to me, I broke the eye contact between me and Teddy and shut him out of my mind. Guilt started to seep in through my pores, plaguing my every cell with it's poison. I couldn't bear to look at Teddy's face. I knew it would be full of devastation.
"Is that really what you think?" he said softly, his voice breaking part way through the sentence. Even if I hadn't wanted it to, I could feel my heart break into a thousand more pieces than it already was in. I imagine it to be like glass, being ground up time and time again until it resembles fine sand when it eventually washes away and I'm left with the hollow empty feeling of nothingness that I've been craving for months. Except, I don't want it anymore. I want to be whole again. I want Teddy to stay. How will he ever stay when he knows how fucked up my mind truly is?
I shake my head slowly. "No, I don't think that. But the voices, they're there all the time. Making me doubt myself all the time. They used to tell me that you loved it when my bones were showing, because it showed I was strong and delicate. Like a flower. You always said I was your little lily pad. I wanted to be delicate and pretty like a water lily. I was convinced that's what you liked. What you wanted."
I looked up at him, desperate for him to understand. I wanted him to understand. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted to please everyone. I wanted him to notice me. And he did. He noticed me more when I had lost weight, than he ever had before that.
"So what, I caused this?"
Crap. That couldn't have gone worse if I tried. "NO! God no. Teddy, I've been like this for what feels like years. This isn't going to go away in a few days. But you did not give me this. You did not cause it. If I know anything right now, it's that."
Watching his face still cloud with doubt and guilt I crawled onto his lap and wrapped my arms around him tightly. "Teddy please, believe me. You were not the cause of all this. If anything, you kept me grounded for as long as you did. I would have broken down so much sooner if you weren't around. You kept me going even when I didn't want to. I – I don't think I'd even be here if it wasn't for you."
"What about your family? You'd really have killed yourself without the consideration for them?"
I stiffened at that comment. Of course, Al and James were doing their best. Or, at least, Al was. James was coping in his own way; by ignoring the problem, but I knew he loved me. He always told me he loved me. Mum and dad, however, I wasn't so sure about these days. They were ripping me apart at the seams. The lies, the secrets, the guilt, the unhappiness. I didn't understand what was going so wrong with them that they couldn't work it out or admit there was a huge problem. Then again, I guess they would say the same about me.
"I – I would have consideration... but, sometimes... I just. I don't know." I took a long pause before an idea occurred to me. "Teddy?"
"Hm?"
"Could I move into your flat with you?" I looked up at him and saw his skeptic look. "Please? It's just what I need. It's this house, Ted, it's ripping me apart. I can't stay here any longer knowing what I know and not being able to say a damn thing about it. Please, let me out of here and you can watch me all day to make sure I do what I need to. Please?"
He looked puzzled for a moment before I realised what I had said. "What do you mean, knowing what you know and not being able to say anything?"
