by Liane Shaw
“I don’t know. He didn’t say much.”
“No, he’s not really a stimulating conversationalist. Then again, do you know any guys his age who are?” She shook her head and kind of rolled her eyes. I noticed her hair stayed perfect when she moved, like a sleek cap of black silk or something. I knew my hair was a bird’s nest in the morning and I resisted the temptation to smooth it down. I thought about her question for a moment.
“Actually, no, I don’t,” I said, kind of surprised at my own answer. I always thought that I was the conversation dweeb. But when I really thought about it, most of the boys I knew didn’t really have all that much to say either.
“No, I don’t think there are any. I think they have to get a whole lot older before they have anything to say. I definitely like older guys. What about you?”
“Don’t know. I don’t think I know any older guys except my brother, and he doesn’t count.”
“Hmm, is he cute?”
“Gross – that’s my brother you’re talking about! No, he’s not cute!”
“Not to you, maybe. Does he come here on visiting day? I could use some new distractions.”
“Cut it out. You’ll make me puke, which will get me in trouble because they’ll think I did it on purpose.”
“Yeah? Have you got caught?” she asked with interest. She didn’t look like she thought it was gross which I guess shouldn’t surprise me. I couldn’t be the only purger in here or they wouldn’t have so many rules and consequences for it.
“Yeah. Shocked the hell out of me too. I’m so good at it. My parents haven’t caught me for months.”
“They have mysterious ways around here that I haven’t figured out yet. But I will. I treat this place like a big reality game show. A me-against-them kind of thing. Keeps me amused.”
I looked at her, feeling something close to shock. It was like my attitude about this place was looking in a mirror at itself.
“The only game worth playing is the one where you get to make all the rules and not tell the other players,” I said, half grinning at her for the first time. She grinned back.
“Totally. Maybe this can be an us-against-them kind of thing now. We might have more of a chance then. Anyway, I’m heading, so you can get up. They won’t be too happy if you stay in bed all day. You’ll have to go to the excessive lack of energy therapist and discuss your lack of energy until you’re so tired you fall asleep.” She unfolded herself and stood up in one movement that kind of flowed off the bed. I still had half a grin on my face as I watched her walk out of the room and go off to wherever it was that she spent her time.
Someone who thought a little bit like me. Here of all places. Us against them instead of just me.
chapter 11
The clouds came out in full force the day of my appointment, which seemed appropriate for my mood. Isn’t that called pathetic fallacy or something? Anyway, it was definitely pathetic. My parents were so pleased that I agreed to go that I even briefly felt guilty that I had already made my mind up not to listen to anything the jerk said. The guilty feeling left me about thirty seconds into the poking and prodding and weighing, however.
Once he had finished and I was dressed again, I waited for him to come back with his little chart and tell me that I still had to watch the food I put in my mouth. I sat with arms folded and legs crossed, making sure he knew I wasn’t about to be impressed by anything he had to say.
“Madison,” he started as he walked in the room without even looking at me. “Your weight is down to ninety-three pounds. That’s a twenty-seven-pound weight loss since I last saw you.”
“So?” I wasn’t giving him anything. Twenty-seven pounds? Was that all? My mother hated scales so I had only been able to weigh myself if I got a chance at other people’s houses where they weren’t as uptight as Mom. Every scale I tried had me at a different weight and, until this moment, I actually didn’t have a very good idea of how much I weighed.
“So, you are becoming quite underweight for someone your age and height. It’s a cause for concern.”
I was annoyed out of my planned silence. “I don’t see why!” The nerve of the guy! “You’re the one who said I was fat in the first place! Now you say I’m too thin. Make up your mind!” My mother would have passed out if she heard the way I was talking to him.
“I said what?” The doctor pretended to be confused.
“Last year when I came here you told me to watch what I put in my mouth. So I did. Now you get on my case like everyone else does. You’re all nuts.”
“Madison, I certainly never told you that you were overweight. I tell many young ladies that they may want to start watching what they eat once their bodies stop growing upwards. As the body slows its growth patterns, sometimes young people find themselves less able to eat every little thing they want without gaining unwanted pounds. The suggestion to watch what you eat was intended to encourage healthy eating, not strict dieting. There is nothing in here about you having any issues with your weight.” He was checking my chart, as if looking for some magic words that would solve the puzzle.
“Well, it sounded like that to me. I already knew I was fat, anyway. You just confirmed it. I found out everyone was thinking I needed to lose weight and they were all so frigging happy when I started to. Now the same people have decided I’m underweight. Make up your mind!” I knew I was repeating myself but I was too mad to think of new things to say.
“I have made up my mind. I am concerned about you. Do you eat at every meal?”
“Mostly.” I returned to my vow of almost silence.
“What do you usually eat for breakfast?”
“Juice, food.”
“And for lunch?”
“Lunch stuff.”
“Do you sleep through the night?”
“Usually.”
“Do you vomit?”
“What?”
“Vomit, purge, throw up what you’ve eaten.”
“I know what vomit means. It’s just a dumb question. I don’t have the flu.”
Actually, I knew exactly what he meant. He was trying to figure out if I was doing the whole bulimia thing. But I wasn’t. I hadn’t tried it. It sounded gross to me.
“When did you have your last period?” He just kept firing the questions at me and recording my non-answers on his little chart.
“I don’t know. I don’t keep track. I’m not pregnant if that’s your worry.”
“Madison, I have someone I’d like you to talk with. She specializes in working with young girls who are having some difficulties with eating and body image.”
“I am not having a problem with eating and I can see my body just fine. What I do have is a doctor problem and a parent problem. The problem is that they won’t all stay out of my personal business!” I got up and basically stomped out of the room. I tried to slam the door but it wasn’t the slamming type, so I just stomped harder on my way out to the car. I realize that wasn’t the most mature behavior I could have come up with, but I was seriously ticked off and couldn’t come up with anything more creative. I went out to the car where my mother was waiting. She had wanted to come in, but I had told her no. It was bad enough she had guilted me into this at all.
“So?” she asked.
“So what?” Why do people keep setting me up for my favorite non-answer?
“So, what did the doctor say?”
“Nothing.”
“Madison, he must have said something.” Mom was trying to keep her voice calm and patient but I could hear the edge of something else in there.
“He said that you should back off and leave me alone!” I said impatiently and not very calmly. I closed my eyes and leaned against the window, keeping my body as far away from my mother as I could. I knew that she didn’t believe me and was disappointed in me. I didn’t like to disappoint her but I wasn’t going to see any counselor lady or anyone else who was going to try to tell me how to live my life.
When we got home, I ran up to m
y room without saying anything more to Mom.
I slammed my door, which was momentarily satisfying, and turned on my computer. I had saved the thinandbeautiful.com site to my favorites. My computer was password protected so I knew no one else could go on and find out what I was doing. Not that I was doing anything wrong. I had the right to chat with other girls about issues that interested me. I wasn’t looking at porn or anything. But I still knew that my parents, and even Annie, wouldn’t understand.
This time I decided to create a username and password, which would make me a free member and let me actually sign in to the site. All of the other girls had creative handles, so I had to come up with something equally brilliant so that I would fit in. My first choice would have been thinandbeautiful, because that’s what I really wanted to be. Except that it was already the name of the website and I would look like a total uninspired idiot if I used it. What I needed was some of what Devon always called “divine inspiration.” I’m pretty sure that’s where her online name came from. divinedevon. divinemaddie. No way. I wasn’t using my real name on this site. No one did. It was like we were all finding a way to be someone else for a while.
I thought for another minute or three and then laughed as the thought hit. I typed it in and wasn’t surprised to see it go through, because I was pretty sure no one else would have come up with this one. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that it was a good one. It could mean that it was so lame that no one else wanted it! I really hoped the other girls wouldn’t think it was totally pathetic. I was also hoping it would make them think I really wanted to be part of the group.
divinethinspiration … the new me.
April 23
“Hi!” I said, startled out of my mind by the sight of Wolf sitting in my room when I came back from a counseling session. I just love those sessions. I sit there staring at the so-called counselor and she sits there smiling at me with the world’s dumbest smile, trying to get me to talk to her and say something that would make her feel like she’s curing me. Since I don’t have a real disease, I can’t exactly be cured, now can I?
So I just sit there and stare at her until her smile starts to kind of disappear into her wrinkles and she gets frustrated with me. She doesn’t say she’s frustrated with me, which I’m sure she learned not to do in Counseling 101. She just looks all gentle and kind and tells me that we can try again tomorrow. Like she’s offering me a favor or something, as if I actually want to sit there with her tomorrow. At least it wasn’t Big Red.
Actually, maybe she doesn’t have the world’s dumbest smile. I probably have the corner on that one. At least that’s probably what I had plastered on my face when I walked in and found Wolf in my room. I could feel the corners of my mouth stretching. It’s kind of a strange feeling, because I don’t smile much these days. It felt kind of alien, like someone was molding my face for me. I wanted to reach up and feel my cheeks to see if they had turned into Play-Doh. I managed to stop myself from doing it, which was a good thing because I already looked stupid enough standing there with a stupid grin smeared across my face.
“Been to counseling?” Wolf asked. He was smiling also, but he didn’t look like his face was going to stretch completely out of shape.
“Yeah. Well, not counseling. It was just a little chat. You know. The whole, come-on-in-with-me-and-we’ll-chat-awhile routine, which really means I want to shrink your brain and make you enlarge your body.” I stopped talking, a little startled by all those words. I cringed inside a bit. Maybe he liked “chats” and would be offended. Maybe he would think I was a whiner or a complainer or just dumb or something. Maybe he’d walk away and never come back because I opened my big mouth. Maybe he was talking and I was too busy “maybe-ing” to listen to what he was saying!
“I know what you mean. I used to feel that way when I first got here.”
“I mean, who is she anyway? She should have to show us her therapist badge like the cops do so we know she’s qualified or something.”
Wolf laughed at my feeble joke, which made my Play-Doh face stretch out again into a smile. I even opened my mouth and laughed a little.
“That’s a good idea. We could try putting it out there at the next group. Oh, right, I’ve never actually seen you at a group session, have I?”
He was right. I don’t go to group sessions. I have enough trouble trying to figure out why I have to go to the stupid one-to-one chat sessions. Why would I want to talk to a whole bunch of losers about the fact that there isn’t anything wrong with me that a good escape plan wouldn’t fix. Although, I was beginning to think that I would actually have to do the group thing eventually because they weren’t going to let me out if I didn’t. I hated that cooperation could be my only salvation.
“No, I don’t do group sessions just yet,” I answered, trying to sound sure of myself and ending up sounding kind of whiny.
“Well, I actually kind of like the group time. When I first came here, I felt really alone, you know? It was tough for me because, as you may have noticed, I’m a guy and there aren’t too many of us in this place.”
“Yeah, Wolfman, I think she noticed.” Marina walked in and plopped herself down. “You don’t have any boobs. Not that most of the girls in here have them anymore either.” Wolf looked less than totally thrilled to see her and just stood there looking at her. I should have minded her barging in but I didn’t. I was actually kind of glad to see her.
“Yeah, the whole eating disorder thing seems to be a girl thing. I mean, if you believe that there is such a thing as an eating disorder at all,” I said, to break up the silence.
“You don’t think you have an eating disorder? Why else would you be here?” Wolf asked.
“I’m here because other people think I have an eating disorder.”
“Good answer. I like that. I’m going to use it,” Marina said, getting another glare from Wolf.
“Well, I know I have one. No one figured it out because I am a guy and even though guys can have them, no one thought I did. At least, not at first.”
“So you think you have a disorder like they keep trying to tell us we have?” I tried to keep the disbelief out of my voice. I mean, I guess I kind of knew that most of the people stuck in this place had to have something seriously wrong, but Wolf and Marina seemed pretty normal, like me. But then again, I was no judge. I wasn’t even the jury. I couldn’t decide other people were OK just because I was.
“I do now. I resisted it at first, big time. I told anyone who’d listen that they were all full of crap. Man, I was rude!”
“You, rude? Why, Wolfman, you disappoint me,” Marina said, her voice sickeningly sweet.
“You’ll see just how rude I can be if you don’t shut up,” he said rudely. They talked to each other like Steve and me on a bad day.
“Careful, Maddie will think badly of us.”
“Sorry, Maddie. Anyway, I just think people need time to figure it out.”
“I don’t need time. I know I don’t have one of those disorder things. I’m fine just the way I am. My parents are the ones who think I’m sick. Maybe they have the disorder. I’m fine.” I said that twice, didn’t I? I was getting all worked up and I could feel my face turning a lovely shade of crayon red.
“You go, girl,” Marina said softly. I looked at her and was annoyed to find my eyes tearing up. It was like one of my girls had stepped out of cyberspace for a second and talked to me. At the same time, I realized that I was probably being rude to Wolf and was ruining the start of whatever it was that was starting. I tried to backpedal.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m telling you that I don’t think you can get helped here just because I can’t. I mean, everyone is different, right?” Oh man, just stop talking, Madison! Close your mouth and just get off the bike!
“Right. I’m sorry if I was being pushy or something,” he said.
Marina patted him on the arm like a pet poodle. “S’OK, Wolfie, she’ll forgive you. I’ll forgive you, too.�
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“It is OK. You can say what you want. I just … I don’t like talking to strangers about my life. Especially when my life is just fine.” I should really just sew my mouth shut.
“Hey, no worries. You do what works for you. I have to go and talk to strangers now. See ya.” He walked out. I watched him leave and just kind of sighed.
“That went well,” Marina said with a grin.
“Oh, shut up!” I said and then started to really laugh for the first time since I walked through the “guesthouse” doors.
chapter 12
It really hit the fan with Annie about two weeks after the whole botched doctor’s appointment. I still have trouble believing it happened. I don’t know if I can even remember it right because it still gets me so steamed.
In the weeks after the appointment, I managed to navigate my way around the website and was starting think about actually adding my two cents to the chat room. I wasn’t sure that I had anything remotely helpful and interesting to say though, so I was still mostly just reading what other people thought. Every once in a while, a message beep would interrupt my reading, letting me know that Ruth, Annie, Alyssa, or Devon were trying to talk to me. I knew I should have taken the time to talk to them, but I was busy and didn’t want to lose track of what I was doing. Most of the time I ignored the beeps, telling myself I would talk to them later. Eventually, I just turned the messenger service off so I wouldn’t feel guilty.
There was talk about purging by a couple of the girls on the site. I knew that lots of people did it, but it all seemed kind of gross still to me. I mean, I hated puking when I was actually sick and I had trouble imagining doing it on purpose. I couldn’t even figure out how it would actually work. I mean, putting your finger right down your throat? Wouldn’t that just choke you?
I shuddered at the thought of it. One girl also talked about ways that you could control your stomach muscles so that you could actually make yourself heave and throw up. It said you would still kind of gag the way you do when you have the flu but you would get rid of the calories so it was all worth it. I kind of doubted it. I thought I’d rather not eat the garbage in the first place than have to get rid of it later in the toilet.