Medical Imagines

Anorexia

Life is a complicated thing. You try to fit into societies standards just to be labeled as a try hard and if you don't try then your labeled a bum. And then some who are suffering mentally or emotionally are labeled under their own category. Its as if one can never truly "fit in". 

My name is Michael Taylor. I'm a 17 year old senior in high school. Many would take one look at me and instantly label me as a bum. But I'm just one of many in my school. I'm no jock like my brother and I'm no fashionista like my sister. Unfortunately in our society there are pros and cons to being a bum, your left alone to work, your picked on by everyone even other bums, always being judged and pushed away even by those who are supposed to be there for you. 

"Out of my way loser!" Anthony my older brother says shoving me into the lockers as he and his group of jocks storm the hallway of the high school. "Eyyo Anth you gotta be nicer to the twig you'll eventually snap him!" Anthony's friend exclaims. I just stand their waiting for them to clear the way. "I feel so bad for him... I heard his family hates him... Poor soul..." I hear epoeple whisper amongst one another. The first bell rings and we all head into our first period class. 

"Alright class the lunch bell is about to ring make sure you hand in your essays tomorrow and don't forget to read up till chapter 13." The teacher says as everyone starts packing up from todays lecture. I put my stuff in my bag when I hear foot steps walking towards my desk. "Mr.Tay*/9lor?" The teacher says getting my attention. "Yes ma'am?" I say. "Can you stay after class please I would like to have a little conversation with you." I zip my bag and place it back on the floor and nod. "Yes ma'am."

The bell rings and students rush out of the door pushing one another until there is no one left in the classroom besides me and the teacher. She starts heading towards my desk with a paper in her hand. "Mr.Taylor do you know why I have held you back?" She asks. "I mean if I had mind reading powers I would but like if you can explain it to me that would be great too yah know." I say not making eye contact. "Look I want to help you. I saw what those boys did in the hallway. I cant help you if you don't speak up." She says. I start to get light headed but I focus myself and I look at her trying to maintain eye contact. "You know I have given up on speaking up. Its been so long that I have just given up. So I am sorry ma'am but I wont be needing your help. It'll just make things worst." I say standing up walking out of the classroom with my bag. 

I get home after school and head to my room while my parents argue in the kitchen about bills and cheating and shit. Honestly nothing new. I throw my bag onto the ground as I stumble over to my bed and plop down. My head is throbbing and my skin is paler than normal, but to me this is normal. "Michael come here now!" My mother shouts. I head downstairs towards the kitchen where my mother is working on dinner. "You have five minutes to explain to me why I have teachers calling me to state their concerns with you. I have been getting these damn complaints since you were in middle school. I'm getting sick and tired of it! Me and your father has a shit ton of stress as is with your brother's sports and your sister's college. I cant keep dealing with this shit of you not eating and going to school looking like a fucking ghost! Your just an attention seeker. If you were more like your siblings we wouldn't be in this mess!" My mother argues as my father enters the kitchen. "Quit it Erin our son is sick you just don't want to admit it." My father says. "OUR son?! He's your fucking son Arnold!" she shouts back starting an argument between them. I slowly make my way back to my room.

I get into my room closing the door behind me. I walk into my closet where I keep my pills. I dry swallow a few to rid of my headache. I then grab out my headphones and phone and I play Tom Walker. His voice brings me to an imaginary world where I don't feel alone.

After a few hours someone knocks on my door. "Hey kiddo." My dad says opening my door with a plate in his hands. "I brought you dinner. Your mom made chicken and rice." He says placing the plate on my nightstand. "You do look paler than normal. Are you feeling ok?" He asks concerned. My dad and I have a relatively good relationship. I feel as if he is the only one I can actually talk to about my problems cause he actually listens. But I don't want him to know how I have been feeling. I don't want to disappoint him to. "I'm fine just didn't eat lunch today." I say sitting in my spinning computer chair. "Will you then try to eat the food your mother made please?" He asks. I sigh and give him that knowing look. "Please Michael." He says. I sigh and pick up the spoon and I fill it with rice and put it near my mouth shaking at the thought of consuming it. "You got it son. Just put it in your mouth and swallow." He says. "Dad I'm not 3." say as put the spoon in my mouth. "I know but I'm worried about you Mike." He says tears filling his eyes. "My sister died from an eating disorder. And I wasn't there to help her. I want to be here for you bub. " He says as he takes his glasses off his face to wipe his tears. "I know dad." I say as I put the spoon down feeling the feeling of vomit coming. "Anyways... Ill leave you be if you take two more spoon fulls." He says. I sigh and stuff two spoon fulls in my mouth and force myself to swallow. "Thank you." My dad says taking the plate back out.