chapter 59.

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"Hi sweetheart," Mom speaks softly, coming into the office. "Hi," I smile slightly.
The principal had to step out to take a phone call so it's just been the nurse and I here for the last few minutes.

"How are you feeling now?" She questions, pressing her hand against my forehead. "Okay," I shrug.
I'm not feeling as dizzy as I did beforehand, but I definitely don't feel like my normal self.

"I couldn't get her to eat anything, but she had an electrolyte drink that seemed to have helped a little," the nurse chimes in. "Thank you," Mom smiles softly, picking my bag up and throwing it over her shoulder.

She holds out her hand and helps me up from the chair, before pulling me into her arms.

The principal walks in just as Mom starts signing me out, which unfortunately means they get talking. Luckily, it's only for a couple of minutes before she decides to take me home.

"Wait, what about my car? I can't just leave it here," I remember, walking through the hallways of the school attached to Mom's side. "Your Dad's gonna take an Uber and pick it up later," she informs me. "Okay," I nod, leaning most of my body weight into her, still not feeling entirely better.

When we get to the car, she helps me in.
Even though she hasn't yet verbalised her concern, it's very obvious in her actions and body language which makes me feel incredibly guilty.

I put my seatbelt on and rest my head against the window, closing my eyes.
Until I hear Mom going into my bag.
"What are you doing?" I question, looking back through centre console. She doesn't answer me, instead pulling my lunchbox out and coming around to the drivers side.

"I just want you to have something to eat, sweetheart. I need your blood sugar levels to come up," she explains, opening up my lunchbox.
I watch as her expression drops slightly before she looks up at me. "I wasn't hungry," I tell her, looking back out the window.

"Sweetheart, have you eaten anything at all since dinner last night?"

I couldn't even keep last nights dinner down despite my efforts.

It's a rhetorical question too. She doesn't need the answer, she already knows it. So, I ignore her.

"Lexie, you need to eat," she speaks gently.

"I'm not hungry," I mumble, whipping my head back around to her.
She knows it's a lie. I know in the back of my mind that it's a lie too, but somehow I also convince myself it's the truth. Despite the fact my stomach feels like it's turning in on itself.

"Honey, you either eat, or you pass out and end up in hospital," she tells me a little more sternly.
I snatch my lunchbox out of her lap and take out the container with chopped up celery and carrot.

Finally, she puts her seatbelt on and starts the engine as I take a bite of celery. I put all my effort into not spitting it straight back out and it worked for the first few pieces, but when we came to the first red light, I frantically searched the console of the car for tissues.

"What's wrong?" Mom questions just as I find the packet of tissues and spit out my food. "Was it a bad piece?"

"I don't want anymore," I mumble.
I hear her sigh as I pack up the container and zip my lunchbox back up.


When we arrive home, I go straight upstairs to my bedroom and change into a tracksuit before coming back downstairs to make myself a cup of coffee. Hopefully it provides me with at least a little bit of energy.

"Hi Lex, how are you feeling?" Dad questions, pulling me into a side hug as I reach for a cup. "I'm okay," I tell him.

Once I finish making my coffee, I take myself into the living room and turn on Gilmore Girls. Mom joined me a few minutes later with her own cup of coffee too.

"Sweetheart, I'm worried about you," she says softly, taking a seat beside me.


"Well, both your Dad and I have noticed a change in your eating happens over the past few weeks and we're concerned it's turning into something serious," she states, her tone remaining calm.
"My eating habits are fine," I tell her, keeping my attention focused on the tv.

"No, honey, they're not. You almost passed out at school today from a lack of food. You're not okay, and that's okay. We just want to be able to get you the help you need."

"You're making it sound like I'm some mental patient, Mom. I don't need help, I'm fine," I deadpan, finally shifting my gaze to her.

She visibly takes a deep breath before putting her cup down on the coffee table in front of us, reaching for the remote to pause the tv.
"Lexie, you're my daughter, and I know you're not doing as well as you say you are—"
"—I'm fine. You're being overprotective," I whine.

"I'm not, honey. I love you more than anyone would even be able to fathom and I don't want this to get any worse than it already is, I'm not going to sit around and let you slowly kill yourself.
You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, but I want you to talk to someone. I don't want you bottling this up. So whether you speak to me, your Dad or you see Olivia again, it doesn't matter, but I'm not going to sit and do nothing, okay?"

Whether I want to or not, I sit there and take in everything she says. I can tell that she thinks it serious. Maybe it's more serious than I thought.
Although really, I haven't given it any thought at all. I just remember feeling so out of control and so far behind in life that I desperately wanted something I could control. Something that made me feel a little less broken. I wanted my mind to be my friend for once, and it's finally started to feel like it is.

"It's not as bad as you think it is, Mom. I've got it under control," I say.

"I don't think you do, sweetheart," she admits. "You have people you can rely now though. You don't have to do this alone. And you know Olivia said that if at any point you needed to start seeing her again, she would make time for you."

Olivia was my therapist. I only stopped seeing her in May.
She was amazing though, and really helped me work through and understand a lot of the trauma I endured when I was a little younger.

"Maybe," I shrug, "I'm not making any promises I'll actually talk though."
"You want me to call Olivia?" She checks, a small yet sad smile resting on her lips.
I nod.

"Just don't make an appointment for tomorrow, even if she has a cancellation or something. It's a happy day tomorrow," I tell her.

"Okay, sweetheart," she says, brushing the hair out of my face. "You have your first movie coming out in less the twelve hours now," she adds, her smile widening. "I know," I return the smile, leaning into her.

Hii <3

I know I've written about eating disorders in one shots before, but I wanted to write it into this book because it's something I've struggled with a lot in the past and I think that so many people see it as this black and white thing, when there's so much more to it.

You can be any height or weight and be struggling with an eating disorder of any type. It's not always because someone's trying to "get thin". There's a multitude of reasons that factor into it and it's different for everybody.

But like anything, it only has as much control over you as you give it. So if you are struggling with one at the moment, you can get through it. It's okay to reach out for help.
And if you don't feel like you have someone safe to tell, there are hotlines or online therapists that will be able to help you through it!

You are so loved and are always doing better than you think you are <3

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