Heavy In Your Arms

Situations

“Brooke!” My mom yelled from downstairs. “Yeah mom?!” I yelled back from upstairs in my parents pool house. “Come here and look at these pictures I found!” She yelled excitedly. “Okay!” I went down the stairs and found my mom sitting on the couch in my living room. “I was up in the attic this morning and I found these pictures from that one summer at camp,” she said and touched the picture. “look at how young you were, my baby’s all grown up.” she said as her eyes went misty. 

I looked at the photograph and saw 12 year old me. That was the summer that I had gained a bunch of weight and was really self conscious. I remember wearing baggy shirts and sweat pants to conceal it so others wouldn’t know. But  I still knew. I knew that I weighed way more than a 12 year old 4 foot 8 girl should weigh. I remember how it felt when everyone made fun of me. I remember every thing. A painful scar on my heart opened again to bleed. I felt my eyes tear up. I never wanted to feel that way again. 

“Well, I just thought you’d like to see those, but I’m going to go to work.” She said and hugged me.  “Okay.” I said still looking at the picture.  As soon as she walked out the door I ran as fast as I could to my bathroom. I shut the door and fell to my knees. I promised myself I would never do this again. I knew what it could and would do to me.

Thank god my mom wasn’t going to be home to hear what I was about to do. I stuck my middle finger down my throat. And a couple of minutes later it was over. In some ways in made me feel worse and in some ways it made me feel better. My throat burned from the acid. I cupped my hands underneath the faucet and got a sip of water. I sat in front of the sink sobbing. 

“You’re not going to start this again.” I said to myself.  But I knew I was. There was a reason why those pictures were hidden in a box in the attic. So I would never I have to see them again. I got up and stared into the mirror. Remember what the guidance counselor told you to say. “I’m Brooke and I’m beautiful.”  I didn’t believe it one bit. I looked at my sides and my stomach and face. They looked bigger.  And I knew they would only get bigger in my eyes.

I’ve been through this before.  I know what happens. I know what a tragedy it is. And it’s only going to get worse.  “It’s time to stop crying.” a little voice told me. I guess it was my conscience. But it was right. It was time to stop crying. I was going to be late for school and if I wanted to see Jeremy before school I needed to get going.

I took one more look in the mirror and touched up my make-up. You can always tell when I’ve been crying. My face, eyes, and nose turn bright red and I can’t get a deep breath until about ten minutes after the tears have stopped. I grabbed a washcloth out of the cabinet under the sink. I soaked it in cold water and put it on my face. I let it sit there for a minute and took it off.

I brushed my teeth quickly and reached into my pocket to get a piece of gum. I ran down the stairs and grabbed the keys and got in the car. I blasted the radio not even caring what was playing. I just needed something to keep my mind off of it. I hummed along to the tune not knowing any of the lyrics. How was I going to hide this from my family? What would my mom think of me if she found out? She didn’t even know about this when it happened for the first time.

I didn’t have the guts to tell her. I went to the guidance counselor because I was afraid to face my mom. She was the perfect child in her family. Everyone loved her, her family, friends, and everyone at school. She was the popular girl that everyone wished they were. She was the one who never got zits. She was the one who never gained an ounce no matter how much she ate.

 I was the complete opposite of her. I got zits. I was never perfect and never will be. I gain weight when I eat. Half of my family hates me. She had a picture perfect family. Her dad was there for her, her dad wasn’t married to his job like mine is. Her dad was there to help her with her homework and boys. She could tell her dad anything. I can’t tell mine anything. I snapped out of it when I pulled into the parking lot.