Cover Girl | Kendall Knight

don't tell kendall

I couldn't stop purging. I wasn't binging, I still tried to consume little to no calories a day, but no matter what or how much I ate, I would immediately make myself throw it back up. I was obsessed. Whilst purging it obviously wasn't a pleasant experience, but it was the aftermath that got me hooked. It was the mental numbness, the physical high. It was knowing that I was in control and I never had to have a full stomach, even if it was only a cup of oatmeal I was getting rid of.

But the reality of the situation was that I wasn't in control at all. My eating disorder was in control. I finally accepted the fact that I had one, but once I did so, I didn't even think about recovery once. I gave in and let it completely take over. I was simply a vessel for this illness.

And the real kicker is that I didn't want to recover. I didn't want to fight it. I didn't know it at the time, but I'd been living with this disorder since I was around nine years old. I didn't know what life was like without it. I didn't know what it was like to look at food and have it just simply be food, not something that's constantly on your mind, the thoughts eating away at you from the inside out. But I was afraid to give that part of me up. I was afraid of what would happen if I recovered. At this point it felt like if I ate more than 200 calories, the world would end. And if I didn't purge, the entire universe would explode. I was in control of nothing and everything all at the same time.

I was sitting on the floor of the bathroom in the guys's apartment. They invited me over for dinner so we could celebrate the release of their second album. I hadn't eaten much, only a couple forks full of buttered pasta. And I felt terrible about purging in their home, I really wanted to wait until I got back to my own apartment, but I just couldn't. It had already been ten minutes, and I couldn't wait any longer. It was like I was on drugs; I was so addicted. I really could not stop.

So there I was sitting in front of the toilet with the water running. I had already made myself throw up once, but I knew I should once or twice more to get everything out. I was still catching my breath from the first time. That's when there was a knock on the door.

"Julie?" It was James.

"Yeah, I'm done, I'm just...I'm just washing my hands," I called out, my voice a little shaky.

That's when the doorknob started to turn and I realized I left the door unlocked. Before I could even stand up, James was inside. "Look at this-" he began, holding up a magazine, but stopped when he saw me sitting there. "What...what're you doing?"

I quickly stood up and closed the toilet bowl lid. "Nothing, I was just...I..."

"Did you make yourself throw up?" he whispered, his face falling.

"N-no," I lied, but I knew it was no used.

"Julie, did you really just-" he began, his voice raising, but I cut him off.

"Shh, please," I pleaded, reaching behind him to close the bathroom door.

"I knew it," he mumbled, running his hands over his face. "Oh my god, I knew something really serious was going on with you, I'm so sorry, I should've said something sooner, maybe I could've stopped it from going this far."

"James, this isn't your fault. You couldn't have stopped this, I have an eating disorder, it's not something you can just talk me out of," I explained. "Don't blame yourself, this is all me, it's something I have to deal with myself."

"Yeah, but I'm supposed to be your brother away from home. I'm supposed to help you and protect you. I've always wanted a little sister and here you are, but I didn't-I-you," he stammered but eventually gave up and sighed. Then he took a step forward and pulled me into a hug, his arms engulfing my small, fragile frame. "You have to get help for this, you know that, right?"

"No," I immediately shot back, pulling away from the hug. "No, I'll be okay. I have this under control, I can take care of myself and get better, I promise."

"Julie, eating disorders are deadly illnesses. If I can't talk you out of it, I don't think you can suddenly just recover. You have to go see a doctor about this," he argued, his eyebrows furrowed together.

I looked up at him and shook my head. "No, really, I can do this myself, please."

James just looked at me for a moment and there was a long pause before he responded. "What's your weight?"

"What?" I hissed, raising my eyebrows.

"How much do you weigh, Julie?" he insisted.

"Like 115 pounds or something, I don't know," I muttered, shrugging, but he gave me a stern look. "Okay...92 pounds."

"92? Oh my god," he mumbled, running his hand through his hair. "Okay, um...I'll give you month to get up to 98 at the least, okay? If you don't, I'm taking you to the doctors."

"James," I began, but he cut me off.

"Hey, I should be taking you to the doctors anyways," he said, crossing his arms. "Just try, okay? This is really serious, you can really, really, hurt yourself. I don't want anything to happen to you. And no more swimming."

"No more swimming?" I whined, pouting.

"No more swimming!" he finished. "Try, okay? This is a serious matter. Is there anything I can do to help?"

I sighed and shook my head no until a thought popped into my head, making me eyes widen. "Yes," I replied, nodding my head.

"What is it?" he asked.

I looked up at him with a worried expression. "Don't tell Kendall," I begged.

"Don't worry, I won't," he replied, but before I could say thank you, he said something else. "Because you're going to tell him."

"What? No I'm not! He can't know, he'll be so worried!" I protested.

"He has a right to know! You can't keep something like this from him!" he countered. "And besides, don't you guys have that no secrets promise?"

"Yeah, but we agreed that if something was private and personal we didn't have to share! This is personal!" I shot back. Then I walked past him and began opening up the bathroom door, but James put his hand on my arm to stop me.

"He's gonna find out eventually. What do you plan on telling him when I have to drag you to the doctors?" he asked, his voice still stern but a little bit softer now.

"I'll gain the weight so you don't have to," I answered, and shook his hand off of my arm and walked out the door.

But as I was leaving, I heard him whisper, "No you won't." And we both knew he was right.