[3.60] relapse

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The notion that most teenages girls possess goes as follows: If I get a boyfriend, I will be happy. If I get a boyfriend I will feel beautiful because someone must like me for my looks. If I get a boyfriend then other problems within my mind will just float away. If i get a boyfriend I'll feel valid and not out of place. This is not the truth. Far from it in fact. I think the earlier people realise that, the better off they will be in the end.

It was instantly obvious to her that James was struggling with something. She could see it in his eyes, the way he carried himself, even his voice sometimes. Every day the bags under his eyes got deeper and each morning, she always had to bring a laugh out of him before he would her. It was usually the other way round. Through the days and days, the few weeks that followed his desperate phone call to her, he was just progressively getting more and more reserved and quiet. But, however, no matter how hard she tried to ask him what was going on, he would deflect and just not say a word. Chip was undoubtedly worried and hoped deep down that he would say something to her about what was occurring, but she had some things of her own to think about too.

On a partially dark and dank Saturday morning, Ciara had risen late from bed as she only had late afternoon plans. She had showered as usual and hadn't felt particularly anxious about seeing herself in the mirror as usual. She reached for her favourite pair of jeans - they had an embroidered pocket which she so loved - and had been absentmindedly pulling them on when her entire day stopped. The jeans would not zip. Her perfect jeans that were baggy in all the right places and stopped just above her boots, now did not fit. She tugged and she sucked in but they just would not zip.

From that day on, Ciara started to restrict again.

Days and days had passed with her skipping just a few items off of her meal plan, wanting to get her calories down to a deficit so she could lose some weight. Then that had progressed into skipping lunch, given she was out with her friends most of the time and her Mammy now trusted her word. The dizziness and the headaches returned, softly at first but the pain had progressed the more she restricted. She hadn't quite gotten to the point of exercise yet but the more she tried those jeans on and they did not fit, the urge to do so grew.

Ciara knew what her triggers were, she knew that her image of herself should not be defined by her looks or how a piece of clothing fit, but she just couldn't help it. The voices in the back of her mind had been manifesting for a little while already, this simply pushed her over the edge. She, like usual, kept it a secret from absolutely everyone. Even Rosa - who may have suspected something but never said a word about it.

-

"You okay?" she asked James for the third time during their hour long phone call. She had rung him, just to check in on him, and that had progressed into an hour long conversation about Doctor who as he watched it in the living room.

Finally, he sighed and she knew she was finally going to get to the bottom over what had been bothering him that day. She had noticed the badly hidden sadness to his voice at the very beginning of the phone call and could not place what was going on, it seemed different to his current usual funk. "I'm just so sick of being treated awfully by Michelle. Like I know she's joking half the time but it's really difficult to tell sometimes... And it always happens at the worst times and of course I'm not allowed to snap at her because that's aggressive and will just give me a world more of insults and shit that I just don't want to deal with."

Ciara sat up, leaned over the side of her bed and dragged out her wooden box covered with stars. "Can you talk to her about it?" she asked, balancing the phone on her shoulder as she scraped her dinner into the box and closed the lid.

"You know how she is, she'll laugh in my face. Say i'm being weak or something, like always," he sighed softly and she could hear the end credits of the doctor who episode rolling in the background.

"You're not weak J,"she stressed, making sure he heard that over everything else. "If anything talking to her about it is a powerful thing to do. And if you did tell her, like seriously with no distractions and alone, she would listen and dull it down. Insults are kind of her love language, as well as the violence, but if she knows how it's affecting you then she'll dial it back."

'You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"Aye? Well I've known her for a while... Honestly, just talk to her. But I know that's difficult too. And your feelings about it are completely valid..." she trailed off as a sudden wave of dizziness shook through her skull. She slumped over, grabbing a chair to steady herself.

"You okay?" James asked instantly, ,having heard the pen container on her desk clatter to the ground when her headache attacked.

"Aye of course," she replied softly, the sound of her own voice sending waves of furious and unnerving pain through her skull. 

"Are you sure? You sound like you're in pain." 

"I'm fine James," she paused, hand flying to her head to attempt to rub away the pain that blossomed there. "L-let me know how your conversation with Chelle goes?"

"Yeah I will."

"Night J."

He hesitated, feeling like there was something really wrong. He didn't want to mention that over the phone though and vowed to bring it up the next time he saw her, "Good night love."

As she hung up the phone, Ciara tugged on the jeans that had been placed on her chair as a constant reminder of what all the pain was for. As they slipped over her thighs, they felt looser and she was filled with the sudden relief at the idea of them fitting again. The zipper worked this time and she sighed in relief, not knowing the damage that would be caused by such a small thing. 

Basorexia - J.MAGUIREWhere stories live. Discover now