Weathered Love

RECOVERY

The next morning, Ivan brought me back to my room so I could change. He waited for me outside this time. I put on whatever I could find lying around. Hannah was still asleep in bed, still wearing her party clothes and sleeping on top of her sheets. She had the trash can next to her bed and the smell of vomit was hanging in the air. I opened the window, hoping a breeze would come in and dilute the smell. It barely helped. I checked, and Hannah was still breathing, so I figured I'd leave her to sleep off her inevitable hangover.

I went to my desk and found the card that Dr. Peters had given me. Ivan was insistent that I give her a call and wouldn't take "no" for an answer. I figured that, if I went once and didn't like it, I could convince Ivan not to make me go again. I still believed I could do this alone. After all, I had spilled my guts to Ivan and felt better last night without any professional help. Couldn't I also then start eating and be healthier without any professional help?

I pocketed the card and met with Ivan outside my room. "Is Hannah not here?" he asked hopefully.

"Can't get enough admiration, can we?" I teased. Ivan gave me a relieved smile. I guess me joking with him gave him hope that I'd be OK.

We went to breakfast and I felt the same panic come over me that had forced me into this skeletal body. I forced myself to keep walking, forced myself to grab a whole apple, and forced myself to sit down and eat it. The way it hit the bottom of my stomach felt heavy. I'd might as well have been eating rocks. I felt the familiar shame and disgust rise within me. How could I possibly eat when I was so close to my desired waist size?

My inner demons screamed at me, scolding me for giving in to the desires of a man who could never understand my struggle. They hurled insults at me, reminding me of all the bullying and rejection I faced growing up because I didn't have the will-power to just say "no" to food. Did I really want to be that fat girl again? What if I got even fatter? Sure, an apple won't make me fat, but it's just a hop, skip and a jump away from devouring an entire chocolate cake in one sitting and still feeling empty inside.

"You stopped eating," Ivan pointed out. I looked at my pathetic apple with a single bite taken out, then eyed Ivan's bacon. It smelled so delicious. The demons reprimanded me for desiring the extremely fattening breakfast item. "Ivy," Ivan called out.

"My stomach hurts," I quasi-fibbed. The apple was heavy on my stomach, but I couldn't tell if the pain was because of the apple or because my stomach suddenly remembered what food was and was begging for more in painful desperation. Ivan sighed and leaned back in his seat. He scratched the back of his head in frustration, looking away from me. I took another loud, purposeful bite and he must have heard because he looked back at me. "If I throw up again, it's your fault," I said through the bite of apple in my mouth.

He nodded, then resumed eating his breakfast. I kept chewing that one piece past any point of pleasant flavor or texture. It became a dry, tasteless crumble in my mouth. "You'll have to swallow that eventually," Ivan stated.

"How could you guys leave me like that?" came Hannah's loud scold from behind me. Her sudden appearance scared me and I started to choke on the unappetizing apple leftovers in my mouth.

"What are you talking about?" Ivan asked, looking confused between the both of us. "I told you I was taking Ivy home last night because she wasn't feeling well."

"You guys weren't in the room when I got there, but I know you came at some point because the window was open and I hate sleeping with an open window," Hannah accused.

"The room smelled like vomit," I wheezed, trying to get down the remaining pieces of apple. That was one way to make sure I swallowed my food. "I had to open it up. Besides, I figured you'd want to sleep off your hangover," I defended.