I Hate You (Larry Stylinson) ✅

22. extremes

This is going to be a super emotional and fucked up chapter, just a fair warning.

March 1

Louis' POV

It's my second week doing outpatient, and I'm already failing miserably. They bring up inpatient every day, or ask if I can at least stay for the night. But I keep saying no.

The truth is, I couldn't even if I wanted to. I don't have the money for it, and my health insurance doesn't cover anything but outpatient.

I have been trying. I really have been. I've been having three meals a day, like the plan says. It's been excruciatingly painful, given that I have no appetite nor a desire to eat food of any kind - not to mention the ever incessant voice screaming at me.

"You have to go work out, right now!"

"Peanut butter, again? You're disgusting."

"You put dressing on that salad?! Are you serious. You fucking pig."

It has been utterly unbearable dealing with the voice and the guilt it creates. But on most occasions, I've managed to get the food down and keep it down. Or at least I've tried to. There have been occasions where I've done some sit-ups in my room after a big meal. Or when I've skipped a snack. But I've been trying the very best I can. Truly.

I met with a therapist this week and it seemed to help a bit. We talked all about my control issues and my abandonment issues from my abusive ex, who would leave me every other day and then come back. My mum's passing - the grief. All things I couldn't control - things that just made me crave control more.

We talked about how I can have control in other ways. The first way would be to take back control of my eating, and learn to eat things that I truly want, not what the voice wants. My therapist, Laura, assured me that the voice is nothing more than that - just a voice. Silly, meaningless, and I don't have to listen to it no matter how loud it is.

Easier said than done, though. Because the voice is convincing. And it's not a random voice - it's my voice. It's me - part of me, at least. And I confuse it with my own thoughts sometimes. Laura told me that as I gain the weight back and start eating normally, the voice will grow quieter. And then I can truly start being myself again. I hope she's fucking right.

Ugh. Weight gain. I feel sick just stepping on the scale for my weigh in today. Harry took away my scale at home, and I bought a new one but I haven't taken it out of the box yet. I'm trying so hard not to. I'm not allowed to weigh myself at home - only at the doctor's, with my eyes closed.

Today, as my feet touch the cold metal surface, I want more than anything to open my eyes. I just want to know.... But the next thing I realize, the nurse is putting the scale back to zero and recording the number in her clipboard.

"You've done well this week, Louis. We're very proud," the nutritionist says, when she comes in a few minutes later.

"So I've gained weight," I snap. Suddenly, I feel like I've been hit by a truck. This should be a good thing right? Right? But inside my head, I'm screaming. Because the last thing in the world I want is to gain a single pound.... To me, gaining weight is getting fat. And I can't get fat. I just can't.

"Yes, you're weight went up," she says carefully. "That's a positive thing. It's not much, but you're slowly getting back to the healthy zone."

The healthy zone. That's where I need to get if I don't want anymore seizures, or heart problems. But the voice doesn't want the healthy zone, it wants to keep losing weight. Losing and losing and never gaining...

"I... okay," I say, not knowing what else to do.

"We're gonna say positive, yeah?" she says, taking out a new meal plan. "Now, you didn't gain much, so we really have to increase your plan. You need two snacks a day. So I know you've been doing the apple with peanut butter. Can we also try a granola bar? Or a breakfast cookie? What do you like for a snack? It can be anything really. Just has to be substantial."