The Beginning, Middle, but not the End

Day 6,123 (July 23rd)

I'm back in my therapist's office. I'm laying down in a chair, and she's sitting at her desk. She brought in some new items to fidget with. Before I had laid down on her couch, I grabbed a slinky from her desk. Since I've been in here, I've only said 'Hi' and 'Thank you'. My brain feels like it can't fully process thoughts, making it near impossible to hold out a conversation.

"Jodie?" Dr. Xavier repeats my name until I tune back in. I look at her, but don't speak. It's as if my mouth forgot how to speak. "Jodie, what's going on?"

I shrug.

"Your mom told me that you haven't been eating much, and you've been sleeping a lot more lately." She must've spoke with her on the phone. "When was the last time you looked in a mirror?" I don't even know the answer to that question. "Sit up for me, please."

She pulls something out of her desk drawer, a handheld mirror, and directs it at me. My eyes pass over it. Why can't I look at it? All my eyes allow me to do is look at Dr. Xavier. "Jodie, I hate to do this, but you need it. Don't look at me, look at yourself," She gestures to the mirror.

"I can't," Tears start to well up in my eyes, why can't I just look at myself?

She sighs, "You can. You don't want to, but you can. Jodie you need to see yourself. Look in the mirror, please."

I blink away the tears, take a deep breath, and look in the mirror. I don't recognize the person staring back at me. Hollow eyes with dark circles underneath them pierce into my soul. The flushed cheeks are strongly defined, and the faded lips are cracked and dry. The person's frame is also rather small, like they've lost a lot of weight. They look almost like they're dying. Who is she? Who is this stranger?

As if she read my mind, Dr. Xavier speaks up and sets down the mirror, "Jodie, that's you." Tears burn my eyes, begging to escape, and soon they start to rush down my face immediately. What happened to me? "Let's weigh you." She helps me up and leads me to the scale across her office.

I kick off my converse and stand on the scale. She uses her finger to barely tap the counterweights around. After a few seconds, she has me step down. I put my shoes back on and sit back on the couch I was on earlier.

She writes something in her notes, and then looks at me, "The last time you were here you weighed 135 pounds. You now weigh 115 pounds. Jodie, if you don't start taking care of yourself soon, you'll be hospitalized. You have to eat. You are a living body, and you cannot neglect it. Your heart is beating, you have blood pumping through your veins continuously. You have a nervous system that allows you to have feeling and gives you the ability to move. You have a brain that processes your thoughts up to 270 miles per hour. Your body has needs because it wants to be alive and thrive, if you continue to neglect these needs you will be hospitalized because you are threatening your own life. I'm not saying you will fail, because I know you're better than that. You just need a push, Jodie. I'm trying to give you that push, but you need to accept it. You need to take care of your needs, Jodie."

The ends of my sleeves are covered in tears. She comes to sit next to me and wraps her arms around me. "I know you can do this, Jodie," She hugs me tighter, "I believe in you."

And I am not ready to die.