brittled mind

3

It's been a battle with the scale. My dad wants to get rid of it but my mom begs him to keep it.

I've sewn weights into two pairs of boxers in case I ever have to weigh in.

I am thrilled when I see it flash at 87. The past month has been hell balancing my dad's paranoia and keeping up with school.

"The jig's up, Len. You're seeing a therapist," he barges in.
"What the hell dad?! Can't you knock?" I hiss
"That's your millionth time on that scale today. You've lost like 20 pounds in the last month," he is seething . "Not quite," I mumbled, embarrassed. "I don't get it Len. You're a damn skeleton, how can you not eat?" he struggles to speak.
"I do eat, okay?! Everyday I eat too much and I'm too fat and I keep feeling these emotions I don't want! Okay?! Will you leave me the hell alone?!" I'm crouching over in pain from yelling.
"We have an appointment tomorrow after school. You will be there," he slams the door.

I hide in my room until my mom comes in. "Hey Len its dinner time! We made grilled chicken with broccoli and a raw dressing, super healthy," she smiles. "Oh thanks mom but I'm not hungry," I say. "Your father wants us to sit down as a family," she says. I sit down and just stare. I have no energy to push the food on the plate in front of me. "Leonard. Eat," my father growls at me through an evil tone. I feel him mocking my fatness. I do nothing. "Eat," he says more forcefully. I still do nothing. "Len will you quit it already?! It's not funny anymore," Isadora, or Isa as we call her, my 13 year old sister says. "It's really tasty, I promise," Halima, my youngest sister says. She's only 9 but seems to know I don't need any drama. "Thank you, Halima, I'm glad it's yummy," I try to smile. We're silent untilI walk away. "Where do you think you're going?" Isa asks. "Upstairs, isn't that obvious?" I keep walking. I hear my dad grumble and my mom insist it's just me being a teenager. I go to bed wrapped in plastic wrap to suck the moisture out.

The next day at school, Ethan is waiting at my locker. "Hey, Len what's up?" He laughs. I smile and greet him. "I got Alex and Daniel to run to Subway and bring it back for lunch, what's your order?" He scrolls through his phone. "Oh I'm good, thanks," I smile. "Ya sure? Mallory and her friends got a lot to say bout ya, I think you wanna eat a few sandwiches to keep them at bay," he says pointing at the three girls walking towards us. "Hey skinny boy, I wanted to know if you could help us with the trig notes from Friday" Mallory says. I say nothing and pull out my notes. What was supposed to be an insult became the instant validation I needed to keep slaving to the scale.

We part for classes and at lunch, Mallory approaches me looking furious. "What the hell, Len?! You gave me shit notes. Either you're getting stupid or you messed with me." I apologize and she storms off. I've never had bad notes. I've always done well, not very good, but enough that people used me for it.

My dad picked me up a few hours later. The car ride downtown was piercingly quiet with the exception of my mom's emotions fuming. "Denzel, it's not that I don't want to be here but if my boss finds out I took time off for a shrink appointment he'll laugh as he rips my paycheck apart," she bites her lip. My dad says nothing. We get out of the car and I feel the impending doom as we approach the building. It's a very "officey" building with plastic plants and tiled floor. We walk to the front desk and they point us towards the stairs. We walk into a door which has a sofa and a bookshelf and wait for what I assume is the actual office to open. A few moments of silence and then a woman in a pantsuit walks out. "You must be the Harpertons. I'm Joanne Burke," She stands tall and shakes my mom and dad's hands. She gestures us in. "So, Leonard, it's nice to meet you. Do you go by Lenny or Leo or have a nickname?" She asks. "Len," I mumble. She writes that down. I hate notes taken on me. I'm not some lab rat. "Why are you here today, Len?" She asks. "My dad brought me." I try to avoid it. "Well yes. But I find that interesting. You say your dad brought you but both parents are here," she raises an eyebrow. I just stare at the floor. She continues to pause between questions until she gives up on me not answering. "Len, I can't make you talk. I can't help you if you don't answer. But I can sit here until you speak or the hour is up and we do this next week," I just stare at her and nod. She turns to my parents as they answer questions about my quote unquote "disordered eating behaviors". A clear pattern of my mom downplaying everything my dad says and my dad ensuring that my mom is too blinded by her own problems continues. "I don't want to be rude, but seeing as our time is almost up, I need to tell you two to get it together. Your son needs to be seen by a medical doctor very soon. He has very severe anorexia and needs to be sure his body can survive this. The more you argue the more time you waste," she eyes them, gently yet sternly. My mom just nods and my dad sighs. "I'm sorry, Julia. I just want to help Leonard and I am taking it out on you," my dad says. "I just don't know why we're here. Joanne said it's for anorexia, but it doesn't make any sense," my mom says. "I'm not anorexic, mom," I laugh and try to comfort her. "I'll find a doctor," my dad tells Joanne. We're dismissed and the car ride home is even more painful. 

I'm on my way out the door for a jog when my dad stops me. "We're having dinner now, please come sit down," He says. "No," I seethe. "No? It wasn't a question," he looks at me and I just open the door and run. To my surprise, he follows. He keeps running but at just the worst moment, I trip on the smallest stone, but get back up. I keep running and take a trail in the wood but suddenly it's harder to keep my vision straight. Everything's moving and going colorless until I feel my body give out.

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I feel a tug on my arm. Ah, great, a drip. I make eye contact with my dad in the chair across from the bed. "Hey," I say awkwardly propping myself up. "How you feeling?" He walks over. "Confused," I laugh a bit. "Your uh, your mom went to go get something to eat so she should be back soon," he said. A knock was heard and before we could answer a nurse came in. "Oh I'm so glad you're awake. It's nice to meet you, Leonard. I'm Callie," she reaches out her hand and I awkwardly shake it. "I'm going to take some vital signs, real quick," she gets out a blood pressure cuff and finger pulse clip. "Good to see your heart rate is up a bit, but still very low," She writes it down. "And your blood pressure hasn't dropped but it's still at 90/65," she furrows her brow to chart it. "Do you think you can stand?" She asks, and rather than answer I just get up. "Okay, good. Can you follow me to the scale?" My heart stops. I should've seen this coming. We awkwardly walk into the hall and make a bunch of turns until we get to a quiet and secluded corner. "I do have to call out the elephant in the room," Callie says as I gulp. "Your father asked about getting you treatment for an eating disorder. Would you like to do a blind weight?" She asks. "Oh what? Pff no way, I'm good," Fuck you, dad. Callie looks hesitant but instructs me to step on. She doesn't say the result out loud, but I see it settle at 87 and about a half. "You're 5'10 is that right?" I nod, regretting I didn't disagree and cut off a few inches. I walk back to ER room and my mom is back with a salad. "Thank you both for being here, I think we'll have a doctor in soon," Callie smiled and left. My parents instructed me to lay down and my mom continued to pick at her salad. It wasn't too long had it not been for the silence before the doctor entered. "Hi there, I'm Dr. Boltzer. I'm a psychiatrist and adolescent physician with the hospital system," he shook everyone's hands before he pulled up a chair only to sit backwards in it. He turns to me asking "Your dad says you go by Len. How are you feeling, Len?" I shrug and smile. "Do you mind if I talk with your parents while you're here or do you want Callie to take you to watch tv?" He asks. "I'd much rather be here if you're going to talk about me," I say deadpan faced. "Makes sense, I like it," he nods. "Mr. and Mrs. Harperton, your son shows a lot of physical traits associated with malnutrition. His heart rate is under 50 bpm, severe hypotension, his blood tests show extreme deficiency, and his body mass index is beyond underweight," he says. "How much?" my mom asks ridiculously calm. "Are you okay if we discuss your weight?" He turns to me. "I-I-I guess. I will lose weight if it's too much I promis-" I'm interrupted. "His bmi is 12.5 meaning he weighs 87.5 pounds. It is very very low for anyone, especially someone of his height and age," he sighs. "But, I have treated patients with eating disorders- even just anorexia who have been all sorts of sizes, so we can't conclude he has an eating disorder based on arbitrary numbers," he assures my parents. "We'll need to do a psychological assessment, but for now we suggest moving him to a room to stay for a few nights while we hydrate and stabilize his deficiencies," he hands my parents some paperwork. 

"We can do that at home, doctor," my mom hands it back.  

"Julia!" My dad whips around to face her.

"We have food and water at home. We'll just pull him out of school for tomorrow and let him rest," she tells my dad. "Thank you Dr. Boltzer, we're sorry for wasting your time on something so silly," she picks up her purse.

"Mrs. Harperton, I assure you it's anything except a waste. If I may, I'd like to pursue a psychological assessment tomorrow morning. That way we can get a formal diagnosis," he explains. "He doesn't have a food problem, if that's what you're insinuating. He's just stressed, busy, and too thin," she bites her lip. "If that's the case then it'll be evident in any sort of screening and we have nothing to worry about," he says. "If I may interrupt" my dad starts. "You just need one parental signature for treatment consent, correct?" He raises an eyebrow. Dr. Boltzer nods.