My Eating Disorder (COMPLETE)

I'm Doing Things

"You want to join basketball?" Lucy asked, leaning back against the wall. Her brow was raised.

It was after school and we were in the gym. I could hear the squeaking of shoes and people dribbling around us. The tan floor was old and rusty, but the room was lively.

I knew Lucy was part of the basketball team for the past two years, so I came and asked her about it. She was practicing today.

I felt my cheeks get hot from embarrassment, but I looked at her and said, "Yes."

She looked me up and down and sputtered a laugh, "With your height? You'll need a miracle to make the team."

My shoulders sagged. Lucy was 5'8 while I was a measly 5'2.

Abruptly, Lucy threw the ball at me and I clumsily grabbed it. I looked at her, confused.

Lucy frowned. "Your awful."

"You didn't give me a warning!"

She tied her hair back and ignored my statement, "Don't worry, I'll be your trainer." she smirked. "Let's see what you could do."

—

My journey had its ups and downs. On the bad days, binge eating would knock on my doorstep. On the good days, I'd eat like normal and have fun during practice. 

Today was a bad day.

I sighed as I finished eating a bag of skittles. The flavor was bland and it made my head ache. 

After throwing the bag on the trash, I could see the bag of trix and donuts from earlier. I crawled to my bed and used my phone.

The urge to still chew on something plagued me, but my stomach was full. I took a breath and repeated a mantra.

Be calm. 

—-

I needed to go to my daily check up, so it was inevitable that I went to the clinic a few months into my self recovery. The doctors still didn't know about my eating disorder, and as they were performing their usual drills, I wondered if I should speak up on it. 

(I felt like calling them incompetent.)

The room they took me in was white and pristine. It smelled like disinfectant soap with a hint of mint. I sat on on the hard bed as the doctor finished up.

"I'll be back soon," the doctor, her name's Alice Cortez, said. Her back was to me as she went to open the door.

Maybe it was because of desperation, or the fact that I felt bad for my mom having to deal with me, or maybe I just had enough, but I blurted out to her--

"I think I have an eating disorder."

There it is.

I finally said it out loud.

I almost regretted it.

The doctor paused, her hand inches from the handle, before finally turning around.

My mouth opened without my permission and suddenly I let it all go. "I used to binge and restrict. Less restricting and more binging nowadays."

The doctor stared at me. I looked away and stared at the tile floor. The cracked floor was a bit dirty on the left. They should mop that.

I could hear her pencil scratching on the clipboard. My throat started to clog up. 

Don't cry. Please, just don't cry. Not now. Not now--

"Sunny, thank you for telling me." 

I looked up, and the doctor had a warm smile on her face. 

"You are very brave and know that there is nothing to be ashamed of. I'll be back soon, okay?"

I couldn't speak, so I nodded.

The door closed.

I could hear the footsteps of the other staff outside and the ticking of the clock.

I let out a breath.

—-
The doctor gave me a list of foods I should start eating to get more nutrients in. She asked about my eating schedule, and I wordlessly gave her my journal.

A look of surprise flashed before her eyes, but she thanked me.

She told me I should consider therapy.

"I'll think about it."

It didn't feel as groundbreaking as it should. The chat we had went by in a blur and then suddenly I was in the car. A comfortable silence was between me and my mom. The radio was playing some type of cheery music, and I looked out the window.

As I saw the familiar looking streets pass by, I realized that I no longer felt as scared as I did a few weeks ago.

I had people to support me. I was going to try out basketball. I actually didn't feel tired all the time.

A real big smile, one that I haven't had in a while, formed on my face.

Let's fucking go.