Wednesday. Another day in Dance Moms hell. First off, one of my cuts burst open, so now I have to wear a bandaid on my wrist. If anybody asks me, I can say I accidentally cut myself on a binder for school. Yeah, that will work.
I pick out the same ALDC sweatshirt with a black sports bra and leggings under it. The same low ponytail. The same skincare and makeup. The same medicine. The constant repetition, the constant routine, every day. The only variables in my life are the dances and the calorie limit. For example, 100 calories today instead of the 150 calories yesterday.
Only 50 grams of oatmeal today. It's very tiny, but I need something to eat. My stomach hurts all day and I'm tired of it. Only 34 calories. You don't deserve the oatmeal, Lilliana. You haven't burned any calories today yet. Plus, you wanna try to look your best for JoJo. I pick at the oatmeal, not wanting to eat it, but I do. I need it.
"Lilly, taking Brady and Gia like old times ok? My car," Mom hurriedly informs me before grabbing her coffee.
I rush to get my shoes and my dance bag, along with my phone and run out the door. Why are we rushing? We have like, ten minutes until we normally leave? I shrug and run down the stairs with Mom. Gia is waiting, but Brady isn't here. Ms. Joanne and Mom begin to chat and that leaves Gia and I. I sit down next to her in one of the comfy chairs.
"Are we gonna do our old formation in the car? Remember, me and Brady were near the window seats and you were smashed in the middle," Gia asks, giggling at the end.
I shrug, not giggling, looking at the ground. I can't fake my sadness today. Gia furrows her eyebrows and uses two of her fingers to lift my head to look at her.
"Are you okay? You can talk to me about anything," Gia reminds me and I almost give in, longing to break down, but I smile weakly and reply, "I'm fine."
Weakest excuse in the book, I know, and I can tell Gia doesn't believe me. She let's it go, though, beginning to text someone on her phone. Gia's gonna tell your mom, Lilliana. Good luck getting your way out of this situation so you can continue to not eat.
***brady***
I'm double-checking my dance bag, making sure I have all of my materials necessary for dance as I get a text from Gia.
Gia: Something's wrong with Lilly and her depression. Be gentle.
Before I can reply back, Mom yells for me to hurry up. Lilly has depression? What? And what does she mean by, "be gentle?" I rush out of my apartment and I go down to the elevator.
***lilly***
I wish I had a backup depression medicine. Maybe that would help. Brady looks at Gia and then at me. They know something's up. I could care less today, though. I look at the ground, hands in imaginary pockets as I shuffle to Mom's car. I have to be happier with the camera. I climb my way into the middle, smashed behind the two teenagers, who talk excitedly about something.
"Are you excited Lilly?" Mom asks me.
"What?" I ask, suddenly snapping out of the bleak train of thought I have delved into.
"Are you excited about getting to see JoJo again? And that you get to do a solo for her?" Mom fills me in.
I stumble in my quest to find the appropriate words, replying with a simple, "Yeah. It's exciting,"
Gia rubs my shoulder sympathetically, and quickly covers up for me, saying "Tired, huh?"
I get the hint and nod, leaning my head on the seat, convincing Mom that I don't have a lot of energy today. Brady and Gia let me stay quiet and don't try to introduce me into the conversation in an attempt to "allow me to regain energy."
In reality, I'm trying to remember some happy memories so I can front as happy. You are never going to actually be happy, Lilliana. So why are you even going to try? Nobody would care about you or your garbage mental state anyway. I have a hard time grasping onto something. Finally, finally, I remember an old memory of the first time I got my contortion handstand.
I smile at the memory. It felt so magical. It's become one of my favorite tricks now. Luckily, right as I remember little Lilly finally getting the trick, the car pulls up to the studio. I get out of the car and walk into the studio. I start to get ready for dance class, but Gia pulls me into the women's bathroom and sits me down on the sink so we're eye-level.
"Lilly, what's going on? Honestly, there's no cameras here. You can tell me," Gia tells me.
"I'm fine, okay? I just don't think the new meds are working. That's it. I just want to dance today," I say, and it doesn't totally convince her, but convinces her enough to let me go.
Gia's gonna rat on you, Lilliana. And then you're gonna have to confess the web of lies you've been yelling. Then, you won't be skinny and you won't be a star dancer. Gia sneaks out of the bathroom and I decide to take off my sweatshirt for my own comfort due to the temperature.
I peel back the bandage and luckily, the cut has healed. I hurriedly grab my makeup bag and do a quick coverup job of the deep scar. Right after, as if on cue, Ms. Abby calls us into Studio A, and then the cameras are on us.
"All right. Elliana has been cleared from school. No more exceptions for anybody. We've learned our lesson from this, yes?" Ms. Abby inquires, and we all nod.
"All right. The Bermuda Triangle is in the ocean. So we have to create that ocean on stage. So this week, you will be dancing in water. This can look really cool, but the water will be hazardous," Ms. Abby warns us.
The production crew brings out these little shallow boxes without any water in them, and Ms. Gianna spaces them out and shows us which boxes to stand near. She starts with Sarah first.
"Your arms, like, swim. Like a fish. Make your body arch and your butt stick out when you come up. Up, cross. Right," Ms. Abby instructs.
After learning the majority of the choreography, we run it. I'm terrified of slipping, even without the water. Also, the dancing has become a little less interesting to me. Loss of interest. Another depression symptom. You're gonna slip and then you won't be able to dance anymore, Lilliana. You're going to be an embarrassment on the stage. You're going to embarrass the ALDC.
"Brady, your hands are really starting to bother me. Keep them together. Like, keep them even. All right? Sarah, I want to work with you, and the rest of y'all, school, lunch, home," Ms. Abby comments.
We nod in understanding and everybody but Sarah rushes out of the room so we can do school. At least I finished most of today's school yesterday, but I'm still required to do three hours unless I finish the curriculum. I'm almost already done with math, and it's not even April. You only can finish these things fast because you rush, Lilliana. You're dumb. You couldn't even name the seven continents if they were written in front of you. My grades are still in the As at least. Low As, but As.
An hour in, Sarah walks out. She's been the only one to work on a solo, but I doubt that she'll work on it. At the very least, she'll get a couple of corrections from JoJo and that'll be about it. After we all finish our schoolwork, we have lunch.
I get weird stares from the girls as I just eat the cup of cherry tomatoes. It's only 25 calories. I can see them looking at each other, like they're communicating silently. They're gonna ask you stuff, Lilliana. Get ready to lie your butt off.
"Are you going to eat anymore?" Pressley ventures, taking a bit of her sub.
"Oh, I had a big breakfast," I lie, and I can tell they don't believe me, but keep quiet.
As long as they don't say anything, I'm not gonna stop. Even if they figure it out, I'm not going to stop until I become skinny enough to please Ms. Abby and I become a good enough dancer to deserve food. I pocket the rest of my lunch, claiming I'll save it for later. I really just throw it in the trash. I also wash the tomato juice over my hands. The slimy insides on my skin disgust me.
***elliana***
As Lilly grabs her lunchbox, I have the inkling in the back of my head that tells me to follow her. I get up from the circle and follow her. I can tell everybody knows what I'm doing. Sarah tries to stop me, but I have to do this. And as I suspected, I see her empty her sandwich in the trash can and I snap a photo before I rush back over to the group.
"She emptied her sandwich in the bin. Look," I whisper as I show them the photo.
"Remind me why we can't ask?" Brady whispers to me.
"Because what if she gets offended because she doesn't have an eating disorder?" I propose and they start to give me quizzical looks and I sigh.
"Look, I'm gonna ask her after the competition, okay? But she's got a solo this week and I don't wanna ruin it," I hurriedly whisper as Lilly walks out and immediately goes to start packing up.
***lilly***
Elliana definitely saw you throw away your lunch, Lilliana. And she's gonna rat on you and your whole dancing career will be thrown away. All the time and effort that your mother put in for you will be thrown away.
I couldn't care less. I couldn't care less about everything. I shuffle back to the car once I finish packing up and we all pile back into the car. We're all exhausted and scared and me, I'm those things with a hint of hopelessness and pain.
"So what do you guys think about the water element?" Mom asks us.
"I mean, we could fall and slip," Gia comments and I listen to this conversation pan out into nothing.
Basically, the entire car ride consists of memes being sent through the group chat that we all laugh at. Poor Mom can only get a glimpse of the meme every red light, and there are only a couple of them. It does create a couple of inside jokes, though, and for once, I feel a glimpse of what it feels like to be happy.
"Hey all the moms are going to go to this local bar to celebrate the return of your mom, Brady and Hannah are all going to spend the night alone at my apartment. Doesn't that sound like fun?" Mom reveals, and I give a fake smile.
"Yeah, that sounds chill. Are they going to be able to bring clothes and all that jazz?" I ask my mother.
"Yeah, they just have to be at apartment 405 by five o'clock. And just letting you know, Gia, you Elliana, and Pressley are having their own little sleepover at Elliana's apartment so you guys are not left out" Mom informs us, and Gia looks down before sneering, probably at the thought of having a sleepover with Pressley.
"What about Kamryn?" I feebly ask, all the logistics and fears running through my head.
"She got sent home, sweetheart. Now, everybody out! Come on!" Mom tells us, all of us rushing to get out of the car.
Poor Kammy. But you can't miss people that leave the dance team, because everybody is replaceable. My mind drifts as we go up the elevator. You're going to be replaced, Lilliana. On top of that, how are you going to be able to not eat, and cut without your friends knowing? You're in deep trouble, Lilliana.
"Ordering a pizza for you guys. Cheese good?" Mom asks us and we all agree to the cheese pizza.
Brady gets off at the third floor while Gia and I get off at the fourth. We say our early goodnights and walk into our respective apartments. I rush to my room and have a panic attack. Shaking, crying, the shortness of breath, the whole shabang. I pray that Mom won't hear me. I grab an ice cube from my water bottle and hold it in my hand. It calms me down enough to think rationally.
Ok, ok. I can still weigh myself because Mom is going to allow us to take showers. But I think Hannah and Brady may have to know. But the question is can I bribe them or convince them to keep it a secret if they find out? I don't know.
Before I know it, it's five o'clock. Mom's wearing one of her party dresses and opens the door. I rush out of the room to greet them, pretending to seem all happy even though the only one I'm fooling is my mother.
"Pizza's in the microwave. I want the lights off by nine, okay? That's generous. I promise I won't be drunk, okay?" Mom orders from us and we nod in understanding.
Once Mom shuts the door, we start figuring out where we're going to sleep.
"I have a pullout couch. We can try to see if that will fit us?" I suggest and we all make our way to my bedroom.
After struggling for a good ten minutes and moving some furniture around, we finally pull out the couch.
"So if Hannah and I go on the sides and Lilly, you go in the middle, it might work," Brady suggests and we shrug, configuring ourselves on the bed so we can fit.
"Just barely," Hannah grumbles and we manage to fit ourselves, just barely.
"Now that we got that out of the way, we can pull something up on my laptop, maybe Ralph Breaks the Internet?" I propose.
"Can we also eat the pizza? I'm starving," Brady begs, and I hesitantly nod.
I heat up the pizza just to make sure it isn't cold. I put two slices of pizza on their plate and one on mine. We turn on the movie on the big television. They notice I only pick at the pizza.
"Lilly, what's going on? You've barely eaten all day. And you've barely eaten all week," Brady asks.
***brady***
I just can't handle the sight of seeing Lilly like this. It's clear she has an eating disorder. Hannah stares at me and then looks at Lilly. She knows too.
She freezes when I ask her and comes up with, "I just haven't been feeling well."
"Eating will help. Take two bites, please, Lilly. For me," I beg, and I see tears brim her eyes.
She brings the pizza up to her mouth before setting it down on the coffee table and just starts crying.
"I can't," she whispers.
***lilly***
"Why can't you?" Brady asks.
"Because if I eat, I'm afraid that I'm going to throw up because I'm not feeling well. And I don't want to throw up," I lie.
"One bite?" Brady begs of me, and I can see Hannah also pleading with her eyes.
I hold the pizza up to my mouth and slowly take a bite. Do you understand how many calories that bite of pizza was, Lilliana? I painfully swallow it and I take a deep breath.
"Happy?" I ask, and he nods.
"I won't force you to eat any more but feel free to eat it," Brady tells me and I nod.
It's like a big mango seed in my stomach. I want to throw it up. I'll try when I take my shower. I ate about a seventh of my pizza. I can't do the math. I pull out my phone and type into the calculator: 231/7. 33 calories. Adding to the stuff that I've eaten, it's 91 calories.
Cheese pizza is so scary to me. Scarier than most foods. Like I wouldn't eat it even if I wasn't restricting myself. I shiver a bit at the feeling of the pizza and after a long two hours, we can finally take showers.
Hannah goes first. Then Brady. Then me. I weigh myself quickly. 63.2 pounds. Then I quickly cut myself shallowly twice, so they don't even beled and they probably will not even scar. Man, my wrists look like battlefields. But they look so pretty at the same time.
I cover them up with a light amount of foundation, some setting powder, and then these black pajamas that cover up everything. They're so loose, but that means the weight is going away. I go to my bedroom where Hannah and Brady have their phones open. We all text our moms goodnight and they text theirs. Our sleeping situation is very compact, but it works for at least the guests. At least they haven't asked about anything.
For once, I quickly fall asleep unlike most days. I'm glad that they aren't asking questions at least. As long as they don't ask questions, I'm technically in the clear. But they're catching on. So my sleep is anything but peaceful.
~~~~~