I was so excited for dinner, because Lori was actually starting to eat significant parts of her meals. She had been working so hard, and she was finally getting better. I was kind of sad though, because if she got better, she'd go home. It wasn't that I didn't want her to get better, but I didn't want to be alone. Most of the time, however, I swallowed my feelings, and just encouraged Lori.
Recently though, she'd been having a harder time. She'd gained a total of 10 pounds, and she only had five to go before she could go home, but she felt really fat. I did everything I could to encourage her, and we even made deals with each other. Everyday, if she ate a predetermined amount of food, I wouldn't cut that day.
"Ok, Lori. What shall you eat today? I think I'll swap you a cut free day for all of your chicken, and a roll with butter. Oh, and your green beans," I told her.
"That much?" she exclaimed. I don't know why she asked me that. She always asked me that, and I never backed down on what I said. But she always asked me none the less.
"Yes, that much. Now go on, eat!"
Lori started to eat, the same way she did every day: slowly. But that was okay, because I was in no hurry.
By the time an hour and a half had passed, she had only eaten her chicken.
"Ash, I don't think I can eat anymore."
"Don't worry about it. You can try again tomorrow."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
And that's the way it went. We just never talked about the fact that she hadn't upheld her end of the deal, so I could cut myself. She just assumed I wouldn't. And I almost never did, anymore. But occasionally, very infrequently, I did.
That night, when I crawled into bed, I couldn't fall asleep. The only thing I could think about was Ellie and Marco coming to visit. I was really really happy, don't get me wrong, but I was so terrified. The last time I saw them, I was an emotional mess. How could they look at me and not remember that? It's all I thought about when I looked in the mirror. I just didn't look in the mirror very often.
In fact, I was so nervous, that I pulled out a pen clip I had been saving. It was sharp, and I probably shouldn't have saved it. The temptation it offered was just too great.
As quietly as I could, I rolled up my pajama pant's leg, and started slicing up. Unfortunately, I must have made way too much noise, because Lori woke up.
"Mmm, Ash, what are you doing?" she asked, sleepily.
"Nothing Lori, just go back to bed.
Suddenly, her head perked up a little.
"Ash, you aren't!" she exclaimed.
"No, I'm not."
"Liar, I can see you doing it." She got up out of bed, and walked over to me with a box of tissues in her hand. Carefully, she took away what I was using to cut myself with, and she started to clean me up. It would have been easier for her to get a nurse, but we had an unwritten code. I didn't tell anyone when she didn't eat, and she didn't tell anyone when I cut. We trusted each other to do that.
When she finished, she flushed the tissues down the toilet, and climbed back into bed. This time she tried to be quite so I wouldn't hear her, but I heard anyway; she was crying.
Recently though, she'd been having a harder time. She'd gained a total of 10 pounds, and she only had five to go before she could go home, but she felt really fat. I did everything I could to encourage her, and we even made deals with each other. Everyday, if she ate a predetermined amount of food, I wouldn't cut that day.
"Ok, Lori. What shall you eat today? I think I'll swap you a cut free day for all of your chicken, and a roll with butter. Oh, and your green beans," I told her.
"That much?" she exclaimed. I don't know why she asked me that. She always asked me that, and I never backed down on what I said. But she always asked me none the less.
"Yes, that much. Now go on, eat!"
Lori started to eat, the same way she did every day: slowly. But that was okay, because I was in no hurry.
By the time an hour and a half had passed, she had only eaten her chicken.
"Ash, I don't think I can eat anymore."
"Don't worry about it. You can try again tomorrow."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
And that's the way it went. We just never talked about the fact that she hadn't upheld her end of the deal, so I could cut myself. She just assumed I wouldn't. And I almost never did, anymore. But occasionally, very infrequently, I did.
That night, when I crawled into bed, I couldn't fall asleep. The only thing I could think about was Ellie and Marco coming to visit. I was really really happy, don't get me wrong, but I was so terrified. The last time I saw them, I was an emotional mess. How could they look at me and not remember that? It's all I thought about when I looked in the mirror. I just didn't look in the mirror very often.
In fact, I was so nervous, that I pulled out a pen clip I had been saving. It was sharp, and I probably shouldn't have saved it. The temptation it offered was just too great.
As quietly as I could, I rolled up my pajama pant's leg, and started slicing up. Unfortunately, I must have made way too much noise, because Lori woke up.
"Mmm, Ash, what are you doing?" she asked, sleepily.
"Nothing Lori, just go back to bed.
Suddenly, her head perked up a little.
"Ash, you aren't!" she exclaimed.
"No, I'm not."
"Liar, I can see you doing it." She got up out of bed, and walked over to me with a box of tissues in her hand. Carefully, she took away what I was using to cut myself with, and she started to clean me up. It would have been easier for her to get a nurse, but we had an unwritten code. I didn't tell anyone when she didn't eat, and she didn't tell anyone when I cut. We trusted each other to do that.
When she finished, she flushed the tissues down the toilet, and climbed back into bed. This time she tried to be quite so I wouldn't hear her, but I heard anyway; she was crying.