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Once the food arrived, I didn't pause between bites. It was hard to put into words my mindset when I binged and purged. It was addictive-the satisfying fullness of the food resting in my stomach, followed by the sense of release when I forced it back up. Although the vomiting part was disgusting, in some ways, binging and purging was easier than not eating at all. At the basest level, I was comforted by the idea that at least I'd be able to taste some of my favorite foods.
I mumbled an excuse and bolted to the bathroom as soon as I polished off my sandwich and fries. Getting sick in public was one of the least pleasant things. It was a challenge to stay quiet as my finger jabbed into the back of my raw throat, causing me to gag loudly. In high-traffic bathrooms like the one at the restaurant, it was almost impossible to wait until the place emptied out. I could only imagine what my fellow bathroom guests thought when they heard gagging followed by the distinctive splashing when my dinner went into the toilet.
"Kayla," Lila called. Spinning around, I saw her familiar Converse sneakers behind the stall door.
"Yes?" My voice was strangled from bile and fear. My throat stung as acid sloshed against the back of my throat. I wiped at the toilet furiously with a piece of toilet paper, removing evidence of my sickness.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you think?" I snapped. "What do most people normally do in the bathroom?"
A piece of regurgitated food had splashed on my jeans. After swiping it away with my hand, I hoped the stain was small enough Lila wouldn't notice. Opening the door, I elbowed by her and headed straight to the sink. She stood silently behind me as I feverishly scrubbed at my hands with the hottest water I could stand. Finally, I met her eyes in the mirror.
The bathroom was mostly empty by then, only a single person left in one of the stalls. Lila was swimming behind me, my eyesight watery. "Please," I mouthed to her.
Comprehension dawned on her face, as she understood my request: I couldn't get into it then and there. Let me be for now. She shook her head and flew from the bathroom.
My shame overtook me. This was the example I was setting for my teenage sister. Her opinion of me would be forever altered. I would no longer be the big sister she looked up to; instead, I would be the girl who did whatever it took to get thin.
By Brittany's neutral expression when I returned to the table, I guessed Lila hadn't filled her in on the bathroom episode. I was grateful for the concession. I couldn't stand the thought of Brittany fully realizing the extremity of my dieting.
Lila cleared her throat uncomfortably. Our matching dark eyes locked across the table. We had such physical similarities that many times it did seem as if I was looking at a younger version of myself. The irony was I could see the loveliness in my sister, but not in myself. The longer I stared at her, the more I discovered the same desolation reflected in her eyes, a sadness reaching to the bottomless depths of our cores.
Later, we lay silently in bed next to each other. Brittany had begged off about an hour earlier to meet up with Kurt at a party off-campus. I had disappeared into the shower at her departure, terrified of being alone with my little sister. The hot water did nothing to ease my stress or erase the feelings of filth I had over forcing myself to throw up.
Once I was beside Lila, she rested on her left hip and stared at me wide-eyed. Lila was the one person I found it the most difficult to lie to. Although we'd been close before, our bond changed after my father's death. We relied on each other and expected the other to always be honest about what we were feeling. If I was in pain, Lila would want to share it.
"You've been puking to get skinny?"
I cowered at her directness. Lila was contradictory. My mother knew her only as a mousy girl who was an average student. But Lila was a million things more than that.
I averted my eyes. "What makes you say that?"
"I don't know," she answered sarcastically, "maybe the way you run to the bathroom after you eat and the stash of snacks I found in your closet. I've never heard of a diet where Twinkies and cupcakes help you lose weight."
"Lila, it's not that big of a deal ..."
"Of course it's a big deal! I've taken health cla.s.ses, Kayla, you have an eating disorder." She sat up and her eyes grew distant. "You can't do this to yourself. If you drop dead on me like Dad ..."
I bolted up straight in the bed. "You're jumping to conclusions. It's not as bad as you think. You'd be surprised how many other college girls try to get their weight down by occasionally getting sick."
"Do you hear yourself? You sound like one of the anorexic girls from the videos they show in health cla.s.s to scare us to death." Kayla bit down on her lip, apparently thinking over what to say next. "I know Mom always makes us feel like we're freakishly obese, but I thought you always understood she's wrong. We never let her force us into a diet before. We'd eat her ridiculous salads and water, but then go for McDonald's runs later. What changed?"
Her words stung. How could a sixteen-year-old girl gain this much insight while I was floundering to understand my actions? How could I sit in front of her and admit something inside of me had snapped months before? I was in so much pain, and the only way I could figure out how to get rid of it was to remove as much flesh from myself as possible.
"I'm fine, Lila. I was just tired of feeling fat all the time. I probably shouldn't be throwing up, but honestly, I don't do it that often. For the most part, I only try to watch what I eat." I shrugged.
Her expression was unimpressed. "You were home for spring break and I saw what you ate. I think most days you had a piece of bread and fruit for dinner. How can you survive on that?" Her voice broke and tears rolled down her pale cheeks. She reached for me and wrapped her arms tightly around my midsection. "Each time I see you, you're shrinking more and more into yourself. I'm scared one day I'll wake up and you'll be gone for good."
"I'm sorry, Lila. I don't know what to say. I can only say I have everything under control. Although I've lost weight, I'm perfectly healthy." My voice caught on the last phrase. Although I was skinnier, I didn't feel particularly healthy. I was tired almost constantly and my stomach hurt more often than not. The acid from throwing up was also affecting my teeth and I had to be vigilant with the use of whitening strips and baking soda rinses to avoid any further damage. I wouldn't go to the dentist for fear of my bulimia being evident as soon as I opened my mouth for the exam.
"Please try to eat more. I want my sister back. Not a skeleton that resembles her." Lila was obviously trying to dispel the heaviness of the conversation, so I didn't take offense. I only hugged her tighter and leaned my chin on top of her head.
We sat there wordlessly for a long time. I couldn't make her any promises. I was too far gone. I couldn't simply begin eating normally and allow pound after pound of fat to acc.u.mulate beneath my skin. The thought sickened me. I was sorry for the pain I was causing Lila, but gaining weight was one of my deepest and darkest fears.
Chapter Twenty.
The images on the TV pa.s.sed before my eyes in a blur. Beautiful faces all staring back at me, secret smiles playing on their lips, bliss shining through their eyes. I envied everything about them-their effortless beauty, their thin and toned bodies. But most of all, I coveted their happiness.
I was sprawled across Cameron's couch. Minutes earlier, he had come up next to me and tried to coax me to dinner. I waved him off, but he was persistent. He had spent the past hour cooking spaghetti and meatb.a.l.l.s while I was a motionless blob on his couch. The least I could do was eat, but at that second I'd rather have traveled to the depths of h.e.l.l than put food in my body.
My funk had worsened since Lila left to return home the previous weekend. I missed her fiercely. She had left on a sour note, her disapproval over my diet still clear in the tightness of her expression. "Think about what Dad would say," she told me. It was a manipulative thing to say and her words haunted me. I didn't want to think about my father. He was dead; thinking about him only reminded me of the years that stretched ahead of me, where I'd have to endure without him.
I tuned back into Cameron's words. "Kayla, I've been looking forward to having a romantic dinner with you all week. Can you try a little?"
My body felt heavy as I got up from the sofa. If everyone claimed I was so thin, why did I feel so weighted down? I shuffled along behind him as he led me to the table.
It was beautifully set. He had lit a single white candle and positioned it between our place settings. A filled wine gla.s.s sat beside a plate covered with steaming hot pasta smothered in marinara sauce with meatb.a.l.l.s. Any girl would be thrilled to find her boyfriend had gone to the trouble to be romantic-but I was far from any girl.
I felt myself growing irate as I collapsed into the chair. I wasn't sure why he couldn't understand I was trying to avoid fatty foods. Instead of supporting my efforts, my friends and family seemed to be determined to undermine everything I'd done to better myself.
Cameron ate silently for several minutes. My dinner lay untouched, and I felt time slow down as I waited for him to finish. I wasn't going to be bullied into eating when food was the last thing I wanted in my body.
His eyes turned cold as he stared at me. "What are you doing? Why haven't you started eating?"
I was a petulant child, refusing to eat, despite the promises the food in front of me would make me healthy again. I pressed my lips together in a tighter line and crossed my arms over my chest.
Cameron's temper was building. I could feel the tension in the air. He was showing restraint when all he probably wanted to do was to scream at me for my irrational behavior. His voice was strained. "Kayla, you've been here all day and you haven't eaten a thing ..."
My expression was deadly as we locked gazes. "When the h.e.l.l did it become everyone's business whether or not I eat? Last time I checked, it was my body."
I could tell what he was thinking by the way his features twisted. This wasn't me. This wasn't the quiet and meek girl he'd been dating. This girl was bitter and wanted to unleash her rage on those around her.
"Lila called me, Kayla," Cameron said in a resigned tone. I hadn't successfully incited his anger. He refused to be pushed away. I could play chicken with him endlessly-he'd still never be the first one to yield.
"Why would my sister call you?"
"She told me she heard you throwing up in the bathroom. She found a stockpile of snacks and thinks you've been forcing yourself to get sick for a while now to lose weight..."
"Lila is sixteen years old. She's a child and has no right to make accusations and go behind my back and call my boyfriend."
"Kayla, she's scared. And so am I," he admitted. "You never want to do anything because you're tired all the time. You're constantly canceling our plans because you claim you're not feeling well ..."
"I don't want to hear this. You and Lila had no right to talk about me behind my back." I jumped up from the table, knocking over my chair in the process.
"Kayla, you have to start eating better. These habits aren't healthy," he insisted. Getting out of his chair, he took careful, measured steps across the room.
"You said Scarlett does crazy diets all the time. It's not that big of a deal to try different things to lose weight," I countered.
"That's not what you're doing. Your diet has turned into something else entirely," he said softly.
"Fine! You want me to eat, then I'll eat." I shoved past him roughly and headed to his cupboards. Opening one of the cabinets, I blindly grabbed at packages of food. After ripping into a box of cookies, I shoved a handful in my mouth. Crumbs tumbled out of my mouth as I demanded, "Is this what you want? Does it make you happy? Because I'm sure I won't be hearing from you once I become fat again."
"Cut it out."
I removed a box of cereal from his cabinet. I shoveled fistful after fistful of the sugary flakes into my mouth. Rummaging through his other cabinets, I found a half-empty box of doughnuts. I devoured them in quick bites, powder caking over my lips.
"This is f.u.c.king crazy, Kayla." Cameron was planted in the center of the kitchen. I saw the suffering on his face after I polished off a third donut. He appeared unsure if he should stop me since I was actually eating or if he should protest my binging in his presence.
"What, Cameron?" I taunted. "You don't like to see the fat girl inside of me eat? Or you don't like the realization that this disgusts you and deep down you're actually a hypocrite?"
"That's not it and you know me better than that." I could hear a quiet rage in his voice. "You need help and you refuse to do anything about it. You're better than this, Kayla. Your dad would hate to know his death was doing this to you."
I stopped guzzling down a can of soda at his words. "Don't you dare bring my father into this." I darted away from him, heading toward the bathroom. Three feet from the door, Cameron's strong arms encircled me from behind. "What are you doing?" I cried.
"You're not going into the bathroom and throwing that food up," he said fiercely to my back.
I tried to squirm out of his hold, but he only tightened his grip. "You're the one with the problem," I said. "Does it make you feel like a big strong man to be able to hold down your one-hundred-and-five-pound girlfriend?"
"I know you probably hate me right now, but I can't watch you hurt yourself anymore. We're going to get you help," he said, clearly agonized.
"Cameron, let me go!" I screamed.
My thoughts were irrational. I couldn't think of anything else except getting the food out of me. The more seconds that pa.s.sed, the more time the food would have to digest and be stuck inside me forever.
I swung around and pelted his chests with my fists. "Why are you doing this to me? Can't you see what kind of pain I'm in? Just let me go to the bathroom. Please!"
"Kayla, please, we can get through this together. Why can't you see that you're so f.u.c.king beautiful? It wouldn't matter to me if you were three hundred pounds ..." he choked out. His eyes flooded, and I turned my face away in horror. I bucked wildly against him and his hold slipped enough to permit me to free myself from his arms and sprint into the bathroom.
Slamming the door shut and locking it, I desired nothing more than to collapse onto the floor and disappear into oblivion. Instead, I shoved my finger down my throat and vomited. By the time I was finished, my cheeks were soaked with tears. With a sob, I clutched at the edge of the porcelain sink.
How could I leave the sanct.i.ty of the bathroom? Once my body had been purged of every last morsel of food, lucidity returned. I'd just screamed at and a.s.saulted the kindest, most honest person in my life. What kind of sane person could deal with my baggage? It was over. I suspected I'd finally pushed Cameron to the point where he'd no longer want anything to do with me.
Cameron's eyes were red-rimmed when I slunk out of the bathroom ten minutes later. My plan was to leave; to grab my things and disappear wordlessly, an attempt to give him an easy out.
"I'll just leave ..." Docile Kayla was back. My enraged other half fled the scene of the crime, leaving behind tears and recriminations in her wake.
After a couple of hesitant steps, I felt Cameron's hands wrap around my elbows. "We need to talk."
"This is too much for you. I don't need you to say the words-I get it. I'm messed up, and you don't want a head case for a girlfriend."
"That's not what I was going to say." He shook his head. "I was going to tell you we'll find someone for you to talk to. Would you just meet with a doctor? See what they have to say?"
His tone was full of hope. I don't know what I'd done to deserve him. He had the perfect opportunity to escape from my poisonous personality and he was refusing to leave.
"I'm not sure if I can," I told him. "I have a hard time picturing going to therapy and confessing all my issues to some stranger." I stared at the floor. Angus had come up next to me and rubbed against my leg. It felt like he could sense my pain and wanted to extinguish it.
"Kayla, I'm not going to sit by and do nothing. I know you refuse to believe it, but you've ruined me for any other girl. You'll always be the only girl I want. I've made so many plans for us in my head. The semester is ending and I don't want you to go back home to Red Bank. I was going to ask if you wanted to stay here for the summer until you move back to campus." He stopped his rambling speech and pressed his fingers under my chin, lifting my head to face him directly. "Kayla, I love you."
His words felt like a physical blow. I staggered backwards and set my palm over my heart. "Cameron, no ..."
"I do, Kayla, I love you. I've been terrified to say it to you. I had a feeling it would freak you out, but I don't care. You need to hear that I love you so much it kills me inside to realize how much pain you're in." His eyes were full of emotion, forcing me to withstand the intensity of his feelings.
How could he love me? We'd only been together three months, three months of being plagued by my own self-hatred. Moments ago, I had gone on a rampage and attacked him, unprovoked. What had he seen inside me that made him believe he loved me?
How could I love someone? I hated myself so much at times I wished I never existed. I didn't feel like I deserved love, so how would I be able to return the sentiment?
"Cameron, I can't ..." I gasped out. I couldn't bear it-I had to run away as swiftly as possible. Run fat girl, run as fast as you can, an inner voice taunted.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my purse on the floor. I made a grab for it.
"I love you Kayla and I'm not going to stop fighting for you," he said.
Who was this man before me? Cameron was the most easygoing person I'd ever met. This was Cameron showing me how deep his feelings ran, and he was primed to annihilate the walls I'd put in place.
"Stop it," I hissed. "You don't want me. I'm radioactive-I poison everything around me."
Cameron opened his mouth to protest, but I was gone before he could utter a word. His words would have fallen on deaf ears. A cacophony of voices inside my head was rising up together, blocking out everything else. Screaming, Fat, fat, fat! over and over again.
Chapter Twenty-One.
I was more alone than ever. Instantly, I had pushed away everyone I cared about. Lila was cold and distant; she was at a loss about how to deal with a sister no longer fitting her ideal. My roommates walked on eggsh.e.l.ls around me, afraid to say the wrong thing and send me over the edge. And Cameron ...
I couldn't process the fallout with Cameron. It had been two sleepless nights since I last saw him. I had sent him a text, asking for my s.p.a.ce and an empty promise I'd call him after I figured some things out. He had called me, but I let my voicemail pick up. He begged me to call him, to not run away from him, but I had nothing to say that would fix things.
The dorm was quiet as I sat alone in my room. Since it was a Sat.u.r.day, my floor mates had gone out for the night. I hadn't told them about my problems with Cameron, so they a.s.sumed I was spending the night with him. I wanted so badly to talk to them at that moment, to explain my feelings without fear they'd pa.s.s judgment.
Logging onto my computer, I opened my browser and typed in: anorexia. My eyes skimmed over the medical information. There were endless websites dedicated to the dangers and complications a.s.sociated with anorexia and bulimia. My mind blocked out words like "get help" and "accept your body." After scrolling through the search results, I found a site called Pro-Ana.
As I read through the forum posts, something clicked inside me. The girls on the site sounded just like me. They also only wanted to be thin and beautiful. They'd gone through similar setbacks and struggled with people saying the way they ate was "sick" and "wrong." There was even a list of tips on how to stop eating and if you were going to purge after meals, what were the best foods to eat.
I typed a quick message using the screen name DisappearingGirl21. I could really use some advice. I've lost 40 pounds since January and everyone was saying how fab I looked once I started dropping the pounds. Now, they're accusing me of having an eating disorder and want me to start gaining weight. Right now I try to eat around 500 calories and on binge days, I'll purge out my big meal. I don't want to lose everyone in my life, there's also a guy I really care about, but I can't just pig out again and get fat. What should I do?