Authors: Anonymous
Jack: Damn. You are a sight for sore eyes.
Me: Hi.
Jack: Did you survive Thanksgiving?
Me: Barely.
Jack: Let’s go watch some dudes in tights kill mice.
I laughed in spite of myself, and I felt all my worries that he wouldn’t like me disappear for an instant. Rob was in the SUV and when I climbed in he made room so I could sit by Jack, who put his arm around me and nuzzled my neck.
When we got to the lobby of the theater James suggested we go and check our coats, and my stomach dropped. I tried to think of what Kim would say. This is just my disease that’s
worried. It’s my disease trying to make me feel like I’m worthless and fat. It’s my disease that’s telling me I’m ugly.
Jack helped me out of my coat, but instead of turning to the girl at the coat check, he and Rob just stopped and stared. The dress Grandma had bought me had a fitted, strapless black velvet bodice with a short, flouncy skirt in red plaid taffeta. I’d worn black stockings with a seam up the back, and as I turned and caught them both staring, Rob whistled, and Jack murmured:
Merry Christmas to me . . .
I laughed and could feel a blush burning its way across both cheeks toward my ears. I felt Susan step up next to me and slide an arm across my bare shoulders.
Susan: Well, well, young lady.
Jack: I’m sorry. I know it’s not polite to stare.
Susan: No, no. You should stare.
She turned to me and gave me a little squeeze.
Susan: Plumping up has made you positively
radiant
.
Jack and Rob were checking coats and James was at the bar fetching white wine. Nobody heard her say the words “plumping up” but me. The blush on my cheeks turned from one of pleasure to a sting of overwhelming shame. I don’t remember exactly what happened at the ballet after intermission.
I remember knowing that Jill was beautiful and that Jack
must be stroking my leg at the hem of my skirt so I didn’t feel bad about being so plump.
It’s been three hours since the applause in the hall died down, and two since Jack walked me to the door and told me something very sweet I’m sure was meant to spare my feelings. Susan’s words, however, are the ones still ringing in my ears:
Plumping up
.
The worst part is, she’s right.
Weight:
126
Just got off the phone with Jack. When he called he sounded so distant and far away that I thought he was calling to break up with me. I got really nauseous and lay across my bed, closed my eyes, and prepared for the worst.
He said there’d been an accident. Jill was performing in the matinee this afternoon and broke her foot. It’s a stress fracture. Jack says she’ll be out of the show for the rest of the run.
I was so relieved he wasn’t calling to break up with me because I was too plump that I immediately jumped up and pulled on some shoes.
Me: I’m coming over right this second. What can I bring her?
He was silent. My heart dropped again. Something was
wrong
.
Me: Jack?
Jack: She’s not here, babe.
Me: Is she still at the hospital?
Jack: Um . . . no. Not that hospital. She just left with my parents.
Me: Where did they go?
Jack: They’re taking her to a place in Arizona. It’s sort of a . . . hospital. It’s like . . . a rehab.
Me: A rehab?
Jack: Yeah. It’s a treatment center for anorexia.
I slowly slumped back down on the bed as the weight of this settled over me. Jack was quiet, but I could hear him breathing on the phone. Then I heard him sniff. It sounded like he was crying.
Me: Jack? Are you okay? Are you there by yourself?
Jack: Yeah. I’m fine. I just . . .
His voice trailed off, and I waited, holding my breath for what would come next.
Jack: I just . . . you looked
so beautiful
last night, and I am
so glad
that you’re getting
better
.
Tears sprang up in my eyes and slowly rolled down my cheeks.
Me: Do you want to come over and hang out?
Jack: Is that okay? Will your mom mind?
Me: No. Come over.
I told Mom what was going on and she was glad I’d told Jack to come over. Rob came by too for a little while but left pretty quickly. I think he felt strange watching Jack and me together. It probably made him miss Jill. He’s a big clown most days, but I can tell he really cares for her and that he was really scared.
After he left, Mom called Susan and left her a voice mail, just saying that she had heard what happened and that Jack was over at our place and to let her know if she could do something or if they needed anything. Mom went to bed and left me sitting on the couch with Jack, who laid his head down on my lap and fell asleep while we were watching TV.
I sat there running my fingers through his hair with a billion thoughts zinging through my brain at the same time. After a while, he woke up and smiled at me. He stretched and sat up and gave me a kiss, then looked at his watch and said he had to get home.
Me: I could sit here and watch you sleep all night.
Jack: If we spend the night together, I’m not gonna be sleeping.
He smirked, and I messed up his hair. We walked to the
front door with our arms around each other. He kissed me again and asked if he could come pick me up for school in the morning. I shrugged and said sure.
Jack: See you in the morning, beautiful.
I stood at the front door in the quiet house and watched until his taillights turned the corner, then I came upstairs and started writing.
When I was sitting there on the couch with Jack it crossed my mind how lucky I was that I hadn’t gotten a stress fracture from running. Jill had gotten hurt so easily. I keep thinking about what Dr. Crane said about anorexia being a disease, and I wonder if I’ve done permanent damage. I still haven’t had my period yet. What if my body is already giving out? What if I’m putting on weight too fast? Jack says he’s happy that I’m getting healthy again, but what if they keep making me gain weight? Maybe fifteen pounds is plenty.
I just can’t help thinking about those big girls who sit at the back of the cafeteria at school eating bags of cheese puffs and drinking soda with sugar in it. I swear, just walking by them you could get a corn syrup contact high. Is that where I’m headed? I don’t want to end up thundering around in XXL sweatshirts covered in greasy fingerprints. I’m worried because I haven’t been running at all since homecoming. Not even once. No wonder I’ve gained fifteen pounds so fast.
I need to go to sleep. My brain is in a spin. Reading all of that makes me feel silly for writing it, but that’s what’s going on in my head. Kim said something the other day in our group that caught my ear:
You’re only as sick as your secrets.
Maybe writing all of these thoughts down isn’t enough. Maybe I need to be talking about them more to Dr. Crane and to the other girls in group.
Jack is the sweetest, kindest guy I have ever met. I’m a lucky girl.
I hope Jill is okay. Wherever she is. Maybe we can learn to help each other stay healthy just like we helped each other not eat. That idea makes me smile.
Weight:
128
All I could think about at the ice-skating rink was how fat my coat made me feel. I kept catching a glimpse of myself in the glass at the end of the rink by the snack bar. Maybe it was because it’s curved, or maybe it’s because I am a whale, but my jacket made me look like that cartoon man in the commercials who is made out of tires.
Jack seemed not to notice, or if he did, he didn’t let it stop
him from holding my hand the whole time. He and Rob are really good because they play in this hockey league during the winter. They can skate backward and do these “hockey stops” where they spray ice all over the place. It was all I could do to stand up at the beginning, but Jack was really patient, and by the end I was doing okay. Geoff and Vanessa came with us, and it was nice to be out with everybody, although it was weird not having Jill there. She’s really good on the ice. She took lessons until we were in junior high, when she stopped to concentrate on ballet.
I’ve been talking a lot about my secrets at group this past week. I tell them almost everything I write down in here.
Almost.
If I just keep a few secrets that means I’m just a little bit sick, right?
I’ve been running again. I figure if I’m going to eat this many calories every day, I can at least run a couple of miles. I haven’t told Mom I’m doing it yet. Or anybody, for that matter. I’m just running when I get home from school.
Also, I’ve decided I’m not drinking any calories. That seems like a fair rule. I’ll eat whatever Mom gives me, but I’m just not going to drink anything with sugar in it. That’s empty calories anyway.
It’s funny how you can fool lots of people into thinking
you’re completely better. Mom is thrilled with my progress. Dr. Nash told me my hair is coming back in really well where it had gotten thin at my temples, and she said once I was back up at 130 I’d be out of the woods.
I didn’t fool Jack.
When the Zamboni came out to resurface the ice, Geoff and Vanessa went into the snack bar to get hot chocolate. Rob was talking to Jill outside. She gets to make two phone calls on Saturdays. I haven’t gotten one of them yet. She calls her mom and Rob. When Jack ordered two hot chocolates, I put my hand on his arm.
Me: I want some Earl Grey tea.
He paused, and this funny look crossed his face. He turned back to the counter and changed the order. We walked over to a little table in the corner to wait for our drinks.
Jack: You’re doing it again, aren’t you?
I looked at him, my eyes wide and searching. Trying to appear innocent. Looking very caught.
Me: What? No. I’m . . . Jack. Look at me. I look like a blimp in this coat. I’ve gained so much weight since homecoming I’m practically—
Jack: I’m not a moron.
He wasn’t angry, his tone was quiet, but his eyes were on fire.
Jack: I know there’s a difference between the way you eat and the way you think.
I looked down at my skates. I just wanted him to hug me, to tell me how beautiful I was, that everything would be okay.
Our drinks were ready. He got up to get them, and when he came back, Geoff and Vanessa joined us. We all talked and laughed, and Rob came back in with a report on Jill. We finished skating, and Jack kept holding my hand. He didn’t bring it up again, but when he dropped me off just now he kissed me and looked at me for a long time.
Jack: I just want you to be careful.
Me: I
am
being careful.
Jack: I don’t want to lose you.
Me: You won’t.
Look
at me. I’m
better
.
He nodded, but I could see the doubt behind his eyes.
Weight:
125
I stopped writing in this journal so I could stop sharing at group. Something about writing down what I’m doing makes it real. I’ve been restricting my calories again. I’ve been using the app to make sure I burn off most of what I’m eating. I’ve
been running before Mom gets home from work and doing the cardio workout Jill showed me in my room early in the morning and again at night after Mom goes to bed.
The weight is coming off again. Just losing a few pounds last week made me feel like all my clothes fit better.
At group, Kim asked me if I was okay. We have to tell our weight every time we go, and she’s been paying attention. So has Vanessa. At lunch today, she saw me throwing away most of my salad. I thought everyone had gotten over the idea that I wasn’t eating enough. For a while there it was like I got a round of applause every time I swallowed a bite. Gradually, everybody stopped staring at me while I lifted a fork to my mouth. No such luck today.
Vanessa: Are you throwing all of that away?
Me: What? I’m full.
Vanessa: Of
what
? You barely touched that.
I couldn’t handle it. I completely snapped.
Me: Damn it, Vanessa. Butt out! You’re not my mom. You’re not my doctor. This is none of your
business
.
I ran out of the cafeteria in tears.
Jack followed me. I was unlocking my car door in the parking lot when he caught up with me. As I tried to pull the door open he reached over my shoulder and pushed it closed.
I turned around and slumped against the car door and crossed my arms. It wasn’t until I looked up at him that I realized there were tears running down his cheeks.
Jack: What do I have to do?
Me: This is not about you.
Jack: Yes. Yes, it
is
about me. You made it about me.
Me: How?
Jack: By being so beautiful. By being so smart and funny and such a good kisser. I fell in love with you. So this
is
about me now. I love you and I want you to know that, not up in your head, or in some greeting card sort of way. I want you to
know it
in your bones. This is my business, dammit.
You
are my business.
His cheeks were flushed, and his breath was coming out in sharp staccato bursts of white steam against the cold December air. I wanted to say I was sorry, but I couldn’t.
Me: I’m not trying to hurt you.
Jack: But you
are
. When you hurt someone I love, you
hurt me
. Don’t you get it? I
love you
.
I wanted to hug him. I wanted to tell him I would try harder, but I didn’t. Everything he was saying was being drowned out by a voice that whispered into my ear: He doesn’t really mean this. He’s just being nice. He knows his mom is right. You’re plump. If you really care for him, you’ll walk away.
You’ll spare him the humiliation of having a fat girlfriend.
He snapped me out of my thoughts when he reached up and gently touched my face.
Me: How could you love me like this?
When I said those words, I saw the same sad, faraway look that had sprung into his eyes at the ice rink when I changed my order from hot chocolate to tea.