It's My Life (14 page)

Without looking up, her head moved up and down, just barely, and I sighed in relief. “Will you let me help you then?”

“I don't know how you can help, Cate. I mean, it's just not that simple. It's like, I keep telling myself I'll start eating again, but somehow I just can't do it. I try and try. And no matter what I do, I can't.”

Once again, I asked, “Jenny, will you let me help?”

“Thanks for caring, Cate, but it's
my
problem and I don't know what you can possibly do to change anything.”

“I don't know either, but I want to try. And just so you'll know, I've been praying for you. And so has Beanie.”

She made a little half smile, then spoke in a somewhat condescending tone. “Do you really think
that
makes any difference, Caitlin? I mean, if I can't help myself, then why would God want to help me? And the truth is, I'm not so sure that I even believe in God.”

Well, I couldn't help myself now (or maybe it was a God-thing), but I just boldly said, “You know, Jenny, for someone who doesn't believe in God, you're sure playing awfully close to the line where you just might find out whether He's real or not.”

That seemed to get to her, and I noticed her eyes getting watery now. “Yeah, I suppose you could be right.”

By then the second bell had rung and we had to dash to class, but I paused for a split second to look her in the eye. “Jenny, I intend on sticking by you through this. Is that okay?”

She kind of shrugged again. “Sure, whatever.”

I didn't see her again today. But right after work, I came home and called Beanie and told her all about everything I'd said, and I asked if she had any suggestions. And without missing a beat she told me I should call Jenny's mom and tell her all about this.

“But that feels like I'm ratting on Jenny.”

“If you saw a friend holding a gun to her head, would you call someone for help?”

“Well, that's different.”

“Just quicker is all. But listen, Caitlin, just do Jenny and her parents a great, big favor and tell them what's up.”

“But what if Jenny gets mad at me?”

“She probably will.”

“But I think she needs me right now, Beanie. I don't want to blow her trust. I'm probably her closest friend at the moment, you know how she doesn't hang with any of her old friends anymore. And, speaking of friends, I sure wish you'd been around at lunchtime. I really could've used some backup.”

“Sorry, I had to do some research on the Net in the library. But I'll be around tomorrow. In the meantime, just tell her parents what's up.”

“I'll pray about it.”

“Well, I suppose that's a start.”

After I hung up, I
did
pray. As I did, an idea occurred to me. I decided I could write an anonymous letter. And if Jenny eventually guessed it was me, then I'd have to just live with it. But certainly that's better than doing
nothing. I sat at my computer and typed out what I hoped sounded like a mature letter written by a concerned adult (like a teacher or something). I even went online and printed off a couple of good articles about anorexia nervosa that I included in the letter. And thanks to my job, I know how to print addresses on envelopes by computer, so the whole thing looks pretty slick, if I do say so myself, and it's all sealed and stamped and ready to go first thing in the morning.

But before I go to bed, I will say another prayer for Jenny (I've been praying for her health on and off throughout the day), but now I plan to pray for her spiritual condition–her heart. Ultimately that's the most important part anyway.

Jenny avoided me today, and I didn't see her anywhere at lunchtime. Part of me was slightly relieved, afraid that I'd say something to give away what I'd done last night. I really hope she never discovers that I'm the one who wrote that letter. But on the other hand, I did miss seeing her and I'm desperately worried about her condition (especially after reading that stuff from the anorexia web site last night).

On a happier note, I got a nice letter from Josh today, almost three pages long (double-spaced, of course). I think he's feeling a little overwhelmed by college. Not quite as easy as high school, I suspect. But it was great to hear he's still thinking about God and taking his faith seriously.
He's even gotten involved in an early morning Bible study group, and he sent me a twenty-dollar bill to add to the Mexico garbage dump kids' fund. (I've got to come up with a proper name for this thing!) Maybe an acronym like FOOD (Feeding Orphans on the Dumpsite). Well, I guess I better give that one some more careful thought. Besides, the kids aren't really orphans, they just have some pretty hopeless parents.

Anyway, I decided to write back to Josh tonight, so I guess I'll have to cut my diary entry a little shorter than usual.

Jenny wasn't at school today, and I guess I'm feeling pretty worried that she might be sick as a result of her not eating. And yes, I suppose I feel a little guilty too because I'm sure her mom got my letter by now, and I wonder what will happen next. I mean, it's not like I'm going to get her into trouble or anything like that (actually I'd only wanted to spare her from some really
serious
troubles). But to be honest, this whole thing is getting to me. I mean, it's all I could think about today. And it's not that I haven't been praying for her, because
I have
. But for some reason I'm feeling sort of responsible for her. Like for one thing, I'm thinking, I've been her best friend during these past few weeks, I probably should've noticed something was wrong way sooner than this. I mean, it took Beanie harping at me about it before I actually noticed anything suspicious. And even then I wasn't totally convinced she had anorexia.

Okay, I know It's not my personal fault that Jenny doesn't eat food. I mean, after all, I
did
read those articles I sent to her mom, and I know it's pretty complicated problem that a person mostly brings upon herself. Like if a girl feels she doesn't have all that much control over what happens in her life, she might decide to focus her energy inward (onto her body) by choosing to deprive herself of food. Because for some reason, following a strict diet gives that girl this weird sense of control and then when she consequently loses weight she feels all empowered by it.

But, to be honest, this doesn't really make a whole lot of sense to me. I mean, how could depriving yourself of food make you feel powerful? It would only make me feel hungry and grumpy and totally frustrated.

I'll admit I sort of get the part about girls wanting to be “ultrathin” because of all the models and media and stuff. And it does seem like almost every girl I know worries about her weight now and then (some to the point of obnoxious obsession!), and I've even had friends give me a bad time because I can pretty much eat whatever I want without freaking about my weight too much. (But then my mom's like that too and according to her we have “slim genes,” which is fortunate because, personally, it's just one less thing to worry about.) But I do understand how this focus on thinness and weight is a national compulsion with teenage girls. And according to one article I read, girls who have anorexia get this kind of euphoric high when they get on the scales and see they've lost
another pound. They say it's almost like taking a happy pill or something. And it makes them feel like they're in control of their lives and like they're succeeding at something. Which seems totally weird if you ask me. I mean, these girls (by the way, some guys get it too) are succeeding at starving their bodies until they have no energy, and they can no longer eat any kind of food. Then their hair falls out, and their periods stop, their teeth go bad, their bones get weak, and the list gets worse. I mean,
who
(in her right mind) would willingly invite all these kinds of ailments into her life? Apparently Jenny. I just don't get it. Big sigh,…

According to one psychiatrist online, a lot of these girls have some things in common. One thing is that they tend to put too much pressure on themselves, I think like an overachiever. (I learned that term in psychology–those are people who work incredibly hard to succeed; they are also called Type A personalities, which Jenny probably is.) And girls with anorexia also tend to be really good students (like Jenny) and often well liked and popular (like Jenny) and
perfectionists
(like Jenny!). I mean, you should see her room–it's immaculate! Not only is it decorated perfectly, but every single thing is always in its place. In fact, her room is so neat I sometimes wonder how she can even stand it. Sometimes I want to go in there and just mess things up a little so I can relax and feel comfortable. But of course I don't. Although, I'll confess to having moved her hairbrush from its regular spot on her dresser once. But within mere minutes, she had put it right back
in place without saying a word. At the time, I wondered:
What's up with that?
Now, I think I know.

But the thing is, I like Jenny so much that I've tried to overlook these little idiosyncrasies (another psychology class word that means “our unique differences”). And I suppose I thought I might try to learn a thing or two from her about neatness and organization. Although I certainly do NOT want to become obsessed with it. We were studying OCD in my psychology class this week (that stands for obsessive compulsive disorder), and I guess I'm wondering if Jenny might not have something like that too. Although it's hard to say. That whole anorexia thing might be her only problem. And let me tell you, it's a pretty big one!

This whole biz is worrying me quite a lot these days. But at least I think her mom is on the up-and-up now. And Beanie and I have both been really praying for Jen, and even Aunt Steph is praying for her. Beanie told her all about it, and I guess Steph (who didn't inherit those same “slim genes”) came pretty close to being anorexic herself, just after she got out of high school, but she told Beanie it was a piece of cherry cheesecake that finally cured her and turned her around. Maybe we should try that with Jenny, although I think something chocolate might work better. Last year she used to just love chocolate.

I'd really like to call her right now and see what's up, but at the same time I'm a little worried she might have figured out somehow that I'm the one who ratted on her about this whole thing. Okay, according to Beanie, it wasn't ratting. Beanie keeps saying I did her a huge lifesaving
favor and that she'll never guess it was me. But just the same I feel pretty guilty.

Today I called and
invited Jenny to go to the mall (thinking I'd try to get her to eat something there), but she said she wasn't feeling too well and that's why she'd missed school yesterday. I asked her if it had anything to do with her not eating and she got a little irate. “You know, I'm getting a little fed up with all this talk about anorexia, Caitlin. I've just got a cold is all. Is it okay for a person to catch a silly little cold these days? Or do you want to ship me off to the psycho ward too?”

“The psycho ward?”

“Yeah, some moronic teacher, or maybe it's that stupid counselor Ms. Fieldstone, sent my mom this totally ridiculous letter telling her that I may be anorexic. And now my mom's all freaked and ready to check me into the loony bin.”

“Oh no!”

“Yeah, tell me about it. She put in a call to some stupid shrink friend of hers at West Haven.”

“You're kidding?” Guilt, guilt, guilt,…big-time guilt.

“I wish. My mom's already made me stand on the scales, which sent her straight into hysterics, then she actually tried to force-feed me, and she's now saying I cannot leave this house without eating something. I feel like I'm in prison.” I heard her voice choke. “I just don't know why this is happening to me, Cate.”

Well, I hardly need to say that I'm feeling absolutely horrible by then. Like this whole anorexia thing was totally my fault, and how could I possibly stop whatever I'd set into motion with her mother. “Uh, is there anything I can do to help?” I asked lamely.

She just groaned. “No one can help me, no one but me. And I don't even know what I can do to change.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

She paused then said, “Sure, if you want to. But I'll warn you, my mom is just totally wigging out on me. I can't be responsible for anything she might say or do.”

I tried to laugh. “That's okay. Parents are like that.”

So, remembering what Aunt Steph said, I stopped by Celeste's Bakery and got two fat slices of their “to die for” chocolate cheesecake and then headed over to Jenny's.

She acted all excited about the cheesecake (I'm sure to impress her mom) and made a big production of putting them on plates and getting forks and napkins, and then we sat down at the breakfast bar to eat them.
And I have to give Jenny credit, she did put a couple of bites into her mouth. But then she started to gag.
Literally gag!
And she had to run to the bathroom, and I felt so bad for her I couldn't even eat the rest of my cheesecake. And believe me, it
really
was the ultimate in chocolate cheesecake!

Well, the whole time this was going on, her mom kept flitting around the kitchen, all nervouslike, and saying stupid little things (that I don't think were making Jenny feel one bit better!) and then she just burst into tears.

So Jenny and I went to the pool room and tried to play a game of pool, but I could tell she was really weak and everything, so I finally convinced her to just sit down and rest. And then she started to cry.

“I don't know what to do,” she sobbed. “I don't want to go to West Haven–I don't want to be analyzed by a bunch of shrinks or take a lot of stupid pills–and I know they'll put a feeding tube in me if I don't eat–and I just can't stand to think of that.”

I leaned over and hugged her and she continued to cry, really pitifully–just like a hopeless little kid. And I felt so totally bad. I didn't know what to say or do or anything.