Une Fleure Fanée

Week 5 Part 2 (Monday)

     I wake up and instantly feel just depressed. Like I don't want to get out of bed because it's not worth it. I just scroll through my social media. I don't know why I haven't turned off the comments. Because there are about ten comments saying stuff like, "She used to be skinny when she was on Dance Moms." "She should develop an eating disorder to lose all her fat."

     I burst into silent tears. I want all this to end. I love to dance so much. That's why I'm doing what I'm doing. To look better at my craft. But as hard as I work at dance and losing weight, I never feel good enough. Pull yourself together, Lilliana.

     Privates are at eight in the morning today. I have to put on my clothes. I just don't have the willpower to. I just want to sleep forever. And I do until Mom comes to wake me up.

     "Wake up, Lilly. It's seven, carpools at seven-thirty! Let's go!" I hear Mom say, unraveling my covers.

     I sit up quickly, standing up to get my dance clothes. A black and red sports bra and black leggings.

     "Want some breakfast?" Mom asks me from the kitchen, starting the coffee pot.

     "No, thanks!" I yell back, putting a black bow into my perfect ponytail, quickly doing my makeup.

     I make sure I have everything in my dance bag and hurriedly run out the door. GiaNina and Brady are waiting in the lobby. Mom's carpooling today. We all go to the silver van that Mom owns, and pile in the backseat. We start stretching our legs, hitting the ceiling of the van with our toes.

     We check into the dance studio and see that we are the first ones there. Sweet! We claim our spots and look at the sheet. I have Brady and Hannah. It's the quiet one, the tiny one, and the boy. I'm going to be yelled at so much.

     In order, we have contemporary, jazz, ballet, lyrical, legs and feet, and jumps and turns. The other group has jazz, contemporary, ballet, lyrical, jumps and turns, and legs and feet. We walk into Studio B to see Ms. Gianna running the music.

     "Stretch!" Ms. Gianna yells out, and we do our splits and leg extensions, our wrist stretches and ankle circles, and I do my contortion that nobody else can do.

     Once we are done, we have our hour of schoolwork. Then we have jazz. Oh, boy. All session long, I hear, "Suck in your stomach, Lilly!" "You're not picking this up fast enough, Lilly!" "Your feet are too fat, Lilly!" You're nothing but an imperfect, tiny, fat, horrible, whorish, depressed, no-good, not worth anything useful, annoying, piece of shit, Lilliana.

     After jazz and ballet, we have lunch. Everybody has salads and sandwiches, including me. I don't have any of my salad. I just mix it around and no one is the wiser. My stomach is cramping from the hunger pains throughout the rest of the day, but I hold my pain in.

     I think I pulled it off today. I wonder if I can do it tomorrow. Do it. Don't eat tomorrow, Lilliana. I can't. It will be too obvious. I have to eat breakfast and maybe a little bit of lunch tomorrow. How dare you think of eating, Lilliana? Nobody cares about you anyway.

     The voices are right And I know what happened the last time I disobeyed myself. But if I don't eat, I'll die. Maybe dying isn't so bad. Ugh.

     I don't want to die because it seems too painful, but I just want everything to magically disappear. Why do I sound so depressed? Probably because I feel depressed. Like I don't matter. If I stop eating, and I die, nobody would care anyway.

     "How were privates, guys?" Mom asks me, Brady, and GiaNina as we piled into the car, our bodies aching.

     "Fine," we all say in unison, not wanting to use very descriptive words today, all of us tired from six hours of dance.

     "So how much school do you guys have left for today? I finished mine," Brady asks us, attempting to get some conversation started between us.

     "Math and English. My two least favorite school subjects" GiaNina replies, her head plopping onto the headrest.

     "Same here. But I don't get why you hate English so much. It's just reading," I ask her.

     "That's the point! There's nothing to it! I already know how to read! I don't need to spend time on it! I need to spend time dancing!" she exclaims.

     "But you already know how to dance too," I mention back.

     "But I need to spend time on dance so I can get better," she argues back, me already thinking of what to say back.

     "Don't you also learn new words and get better at English?" I remark back, a smile forming on my face, knowing I have won the argument.

     "I-I-ugh!" she stammers, a scowl appearing trying to conceal a smile as she realizes I have won the argument.

     Brady and I laugh. For one moment, I'm not depressed or mad or hungry. I feel joy. I know to savor these moments. From what I heard from the depressed kids in the unit, there will be fewer and fewer of them. Eventually, my brain will start to get rid of those happy memories, just retaining the bad ones. Maybe people will help me before that happens. I doubt it.

     My train of thought is interrupted when we pull into the parking garage. We grab our duffel bags and go to our respective apartments to finish up schoolwork. Read this paragraph and analyze it. What is 38 multiplied by 56? It's pretty simple stuff. I finish it up within an hour and Mom calls me for dinner.

     I denied breakfast, so I have to pretend to have dinner. I have to use my tactics. I cut my food up, make a lot of conversation, and ask a lot of questions. All without making it seem obvious. Mission accomplished.

     I have to be really careful around Mom. She can tell when I'm relapsing. But I've been passing as normal. I don't know if it's been by the skin of my teeth, but I've been passing. That's all that matters.

     Beep. 75.5. I only lost .6 pounds today. I lost 3.3 pounds last week in total. I'm on track to lose another 3 pounds or so this week. 3 pounds isn't enough. But it'll add up. Good girl, Lilliana. Very good girl. You didn't eat today. Don't eat tomorrow. Don't you dare, Lilliana. I can't listen to myself, but maybe I should. I know what's best for my body, and it's to be skinny.

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