A/N
Hey :)
Yeah, I have issues xD
But don't worry – this story won't go into the direction the last chapter went.
This literally just came to my mind while watching the episode and I mean the way Callie says it sounds suspicious and reminds me of … OK, I am rambling ;)
This chapter only contains a warning for eating disorder...
13th chapter: Broken Bones (Arizona)
As soon as I enter the apartment I let myself fall onto the sofa, too exhausted to walk any farther.
Callie messaged me that she has to stay longer because of a girl that broke 52 of her bones. How the hell do you manage to do that?!
This exhaustion covers me like a blanket and limits my thoughts speed. Usually they are on overdrive, like thinking three thoughts the same time.
But now it seems they have to pass Jello before they reach a defined form that can be interpreted easily.
My mind stretches like chewing gum, but without tearing apart finally...
Who knows? Maybe they will be sent over the edge this time.
I stare out of the window, not noticing anything particular, not trying to either.
This emptiness overwhelms me, again only to be replaced by a mayhem seconds later.
I never understood how there can be chaos when nothing is left? When there is nothing left for the chaos to destroy...
But I just learned to take it as given, not to question it further.
Another thought enters my brain and starts to clear its contours... one that has come to my mind way too often, so that it approaches me quickly.
It wants to force its intentions into my actions – its will should become my actions...
But this time they will not!
This time I will fight. For Callie. For our future.
I only sit on the soft cushions, barely able to move at all.
I just watch the time pass, so my feet won't lead me into the bathroom where everything is hidden.
This time I will sit and wait until this feeling of numbness goes by...
… in case it will.
Finally I try to get up to get something to drink, but I can't move at all. Like all my bones are made of steel which is weighing me down. Which forces me to stay in the position.
Even every effort to speak is futile, because it is too exhausting to form words in my brain and make my mouth say them.
It is like concentrating on a skill you never learned in your whole life and have to perform with every will power that is left.
Unfortunately I know this state too well... and I also know what would help me to improve my current situation-
NO!
I have to stay strong!
And so I let my mind roam around until it reaches Callie and finds some interest in bones...
Something philosophical wants to distract my thoughts-
When a small child runs, trips and falls and breaks a bone by accident, it will not be afraid of running again, will it?
But when those broken bones are produced due to domestic violence or abuse they become a mechanism of conditioning.
'Repeat the action and you will feel pain'
and soon these children are blindly conditioned like Pavlovs' dogs were...
Too afraid to speak up, because they learned that this will mean agony. The kids try to become invisible.
And soon they no longer need broken bones to stay silent and to not scream.
This conditioning is something that works almost always...
I learned that I can get rid of disturbing thoughts and feelings by injuring myself and so it soon was the tool I used to keep me from having to deal with them.
It is like learning that the blade will you, always...
Even if it causes more harm than help... But I am not sure if I can accept this already...
Suddenly I find the strength to rise to my feet which walk me somewhere I don't really recognize.
But as soon as I am in front of the bathroom door I Know what my brain wants me to do.
I walk through the door frame and get greeted by the mirror that shows me a hollow face with blond messy hair.
But I go past it until I reach a flat object lying on the floor.
The scale...
The one thing I loved as much as I hated it when I was a child...
I haven't weighed myself since late childhood and actually I would not do so, but some sort of inner voice orders me to.
This feeling is so weird... I mean on the one hand I really want to know the number but on the other hand I am so afraid...
I remember clearly how this scale can cause much more pain than a silver shining blade ever could...
I do remember how being forced to look, how much weight I gained, made me cry an endless amount of tears.
There is no chance at all that I will ever forget this feeling...
Finally I get rid of all my clothes and take a step onto the scale.
Please! Please! Not too heavy! Please not more than 132 lbs!
I don't dare to look down... But my curiosity wins at last...
130.46...
130.46... At least it is less than 132... But it is not perfect!
For a 5'5 ft average but not ideal...
But I want to be on my ideal weight again...
I need to be!
So I am too heavy. Great! And now I feel so ugly all over again...
Those thoughts start to creep into my mind … They shout Shame! Unworthy! Undisciplined! As loud as they can to make me believe them.
I have to leave this bathroom! NOW!
And so my legs carry me into the kitchen...
Mh, maybe I could bake something... Callie would be happy I guess. If I greet her with some cake after a hard day at work.
But wait! Then I would have to eat it, too!
Based on this last thought I decide against baking something delicious.
Out of nowhere numbers enter my mind. Numbers about which I thought that I had forgotten them long ago.
Deleted them from my memory … But even after a decade I remember them as if I just learned them yesterday...
I trace an apple that lies on top of the fruit bowl.
75.
But it's a big one. Make it 85!
My fingertips move on and reach our bread box. I try to ignore the voice, but it echoes over and over in my skull, forces me to listen!
123 a slice. Add some cheese and you already have a 243 (or even more) meal.
If you shove that into your mouth …. You fat and ugly –
But somehow I am thankful for those thoughts, because they distract me from the emptiness inside of me.
It is kind of strange... I mean no matter how deep I dig to find some positive emotions... there are no! Not at this exact moment...
Those thoughts fill my mind and help me concentrating again on the main parts of my aim...
Becoming the perfect girlfriend!
That's the least I can offer my gorgeous Latina.
Suddenly I feel a dragging pain inside my stomach... That's the acid which has nothing to digest anymore, because my last meal was yesterday evening.
This is the feeling of success! The inner voice assures me. But is it really? Or is it just a relapse...
I don't know anymore. I really don't know...
But somehow the thought of eating something makes me want to vomit. It seems so disgusting right now...
And yet my stomach grumbles loudly, begging me for something to turn into energy.
I take out a glass and pour water inside. Then I take a careful sip, then a gulp until I empty the whole content, in order to calm my jibbing belly.
A familiar feeling... and an even more familiar smile appears on my face while I put down the empty glass.
A/N Please tell me what you think about it!
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