Safety Pin ; Cielois

Chapter 21 - Sick

Alois' POV

Ciel had slammed the door on me. He left. Because of me. Because I couldn't eat. I wish I could. I really did. But it was out of my strenght. Why was it so simple to others ? It's always been hard to me , even before I was diagnosed anorexic. I hated the vomitting my condition induced so I avoided eating as much as possible.

I thought that now that I was out of the center's and not under my mother's watchful eyes , I wouldn't have to eat anymore. But there was Ciel. When he got back home from his new job , he always checked if I had eaten during the time he was away . If I hadn't , he'd make me.

I had opened up to him a lot, but he still didn't know about my past struggle with anorexia. I was supposed to be healed , but I still had problems with food and putting on weight.

Will I be able to live without my demons one day ? Who am I without them?

Until I was thirteen, I was just that poor sick child.

Was it normal at this age to be nothing but a illness? To not have the right to impose my opinions, my desires?

I wasn't a good child . I was a sick dog. The only freedom I had was to feel hatred against the idiot I was. I couldn't play with the others outside , my mother didn't allow me to do sport or to go at friend's house. I was always confined in my immense , cold room.

I hated it when I heard someone summing me up by hospitals records and ever-heavier ordinances.

My personality was never approached, my passions were put aside, my opinions were ignored. I was nothing but this ignoble qualitative "sick."

I still remember the bitter taste I have so often felt after hearing my mother say : "My son ? Oh , he's ... you know ... sick."

Your son ? He never managed to exist, to impose himself. Why couldn't I say that I hate being called "sick" so much ! Did I exist? What did I love? Did I have friends? Was I happy ? It didn't matter, all that mattered was my illness.

This is where anorexia occurred. And smeared the image of the poor little sick child who did nothing wrong.

I was going to destroy this image in the eyes of everyone. I was going to impose myself. I was going to exist. I was going to reveal the truth. Reveal my mental strenght , show the world my determination.

How many times have I heard my father say, " My son ? Don't talk about it , he makes me so ashamed !"

Another mask, replaced the "sick" one : I was the anorexic. Anorexic . An equally unbearable word. As if anorexic was my name, as if it was an integral part of my being, of my personality, of who I was and what I wanted to be.

In a sense, that was the case. I was anorexic, and nothing more . I had more passions, no more dreams , no more energy , no more existence. Anorexia had taken everything away from me .

There was nothing left, nothing more than emptiness and death in the depths of my eyes. Anorexia was my body, anorexia was my character, anorexia was my hobby, anorexia was my soul.

The Alois buried beneath no longer existed.

It was when I started finally to get better and accepted to at least stabilize my weight, a little less than a year ago, that Alois reappeared. That I learned who I really was.

Dance. Poetry. Writing. Coloring. Creating. Decorating. Puzzles. Wandering. Discovering. Learnng new things. Cooking . Watching Disney cartoons. Shopping. Eating pastries. Traveling ... That's what I am.