STRUGGLE

94 9 18
                                    

It had been a week. I was still barely eating - in fact, the half-bagel was the most I had eaten in a day - but it was more than I had been eating previously. I was grateful for Catrin, since she understood the demons that came with recovery. Dr. Peters referred me to a peer group that was right near campus, which helped in case I couldn't make it to her office. The people in the group were nice enough. Everyone was in varying stages of recovery, from people who were just starting, like myself, to people who only needed the group to maintain their recovery.

I was terrified of gaining weight. I tried to assure myself that I would be fine, that the recovered people in the group looked healthy and beautiful, so I would likely end up like them... but I wasn't too good at convincing myself of that.

Ivan kept his weekly check-ins with my parents, and I had to video-chat with them on a weekly basis too so that they could see that I was getting better. I hated to admit it, but I did look a lot more lively once I started eating again. I looked more awake. More alive.

But I had a lot of relapses too. Sometimes, when I thought no one was paying attention, I skipped out on eating altogether. Sometimes I skipped out on a meal, sometimes I didn't eat all day, and if I was feeling particularly bold, I skipped out on more. I let my fear control me.

But Ivan and Catrin were not having any of it. Every time they heard my stomach growl, they forced me to eat. Every time my plate had not been touched while we were in the cafeteria, they would not let me leave until I had finished at least a quarter of the plate. And I had to eat more than just vegetables.

Three weeks into the school year, while I was sitting in the library trying to submit some online homework, Hannah stopped by my isolated table and loudly sat down, launching into how her day had been going. I was stressing out because I needed to finish the homework and submit it within an hour. She seemed to not hear my protests over having a full-blown conversation.

"Seriously, I had to break up with Lorenzo," she commented. I knew she had been playing with the idea ever since she had agreed to go out with him, so the only shock to me was that she stayed with him for three whole weeks. "He just doesn't appreciate that I want to take things slow. Like, he keeps trying to kiss me and keeps trying to move things forward and I'm, like, a really reserved person. I don't like to be touched and kissed all over the place. I need to get to know the guy first, you know?" she commented.

I tried to suppress a laugh. This is the same girl who was hanging all over Ivan after just learning his name. But hey, who was I to judge? Ivan must bring out her bolder side.

"I get it," I responded, hoping that agreeing with her would satisfy her need for justification and she would leave me to finish my online homework. It was wishful thinking though.

"Seriously, he doesn't respect my wishes at all. Maybe I'll go for Byron. He's pretty hot and seems to be interested in me," she continued to ramble. I was only half-listening at that point.

"Mm-hmm," I replied, keeping my focus on my homework.

"Do you think Byron's hotter? Or should I go back to Lorenzo? I wish Ivan would just ask me out already. I've been getting serious vibes off of him. He needs to just man up and ask me out already," she commented. I just kept clicking away to answer the questions on my computer screen as quickly as I could without messing up too badly on the answers.

"Well?" Hannah impatiently interrupted my work.

"Hannah, can you come back and ask me in an hour? I need to submit this by 5, and it's already past 4. It counts towards my grade," I stated.

"Well you could have just told me," she bitterly replied.

"I did," I tersely stated. Hannah huffed, took her bag, and left. I finally had some peace and quiet.

Weathered LoveWhere stories live. Discover now