Skinny Love

Lying is the most fun

I step on the scale at the clinic. I wait as it calculates my weight. The number appears on the scale. 53.206 kg. "You're 5'9 and 53.2 kilograms. You're still underweight Brendon," the nurse says. My mom took away the scale when I got home from the hospital so I don't know exactly how much I weigh. "How much is that in pounds?" I ask. "Around 117 pounds." Fuck I weigh a lot.

Before I was hospitalized I had finally hit my goal weight of 90 pounds. my mom was super worried about me but I was happy. She tried to get me to eat but I'd always refuse. I wasn't going to be fat ever again.

I was at my highest weight in 9th grade weighing around 165 pounds and I was 5'7. I was made fun of for being fat. Well I was made fun of for a lot of things but what hurt most was that. I tried eating healthier and working out. I'd drop down ten pounds but then binge eat over the holidays and gain it all back. I was sick of seeing such a big number on the scale so I decided I'd cut down my calories and work out twice as much. I went from eating 2000 calories a day to 1000. It was working I was losing the weight. It was a slow process but it was working.

Eventually the progress stopped. I wasn't losing any more weight and I wasn't gaining any but I was still getting bullied. I hated my body. I put blankets over all the mirrors in my house so I didn't have to see myself. I was living like that for a couple months. My mom was starting to get worried about me but I told her I was fine. I figured if I could cut down to 1000 calories a day maybe I could cut down to 500.

I skipped breakfast and lunch. My mom was never around in the morning to see me eat and I had school during lunch. I was able to convince her that I was eating every meal when really all I was eating was dinner.

I started losing weight again and I was happy. I took all the blankets off the mirrors because I wasn't afraid to see myself. And then it turned into a game for me. How little can I make myself. How much food could I go without before I had to eat again. I would eat one day then fast the next. My mom started to realize what I was doing. We fought over me eating. So I would eat to make her happy but then when I looked in the mirror all I could see was this giant person.

I stopped eating all together. I was down to 113 pounds. my goal then became 100 pounds. my mom would ground me to the house until I ate something. She would take away all of my electronics. I hated her for that. She wanted me to be fat. She knew I would get bullied. So I had a choice. To lose weight and be happy or get my devices back, get fat, get bullied, and be depressed. I chose option number one.

I finally hit my goal weight of 100 pounds. I thought it would make me happy but I could still see parts of my body where I needed to lose weight so then my goal weight became 90 pounds. my days turned into waking up, going to school, going home, locking myself in my room, and working out all night. Slowly I was losing weight. My mom started taking me to a therapist. There I was diagnosed with severe depression, anxiety, and anorexia.

My mom wanted so bad to hospitalize me but I refused to go. I weighed myself everyday and tracked how long I went without eating. It had been 22 days without food when I stepped on the scale and read 90 pounds. I was so happy. I finally did it.

I went to school. That day no bully was gonna make me feel bad about myself. It was fifth period. I changed into my gym clothes. I could hear the other guys whispering behind my back "he looks like a skeleton." That made me smile.

That day in gym class we were running the mile. I hated running in front of other people so I wanted to get it done and over with. I started running. I was towards the front of the group. Then all of a sudden the room started spinning. I started slowing down. People were passing me. I felt super light headed. That's when everything went black.

I woke up in the hospital hooked up to a ton of machines. My mom was crying in the corner of the room. A doctor comes in. I asked him what happened. He tells me that I passed out due to lack of food and that I almost died. I nodded along. Then I asked him what all the tubes and wires were for. He explained that they were monitoring my heart and pumping food into my system.

I heard "food" and I started taking everything off I tried getting out of the bed and running away but I collapsed on the floor. Some nurses came in and restrained me to the hospital bed. They hooked me back up to the machines and put the feeding tube back in. I was trying to fight them off but I couldn't move. I gave up and accepted my fate. I was told I was being sent to a hospital that specializes in helping people with eating disorders.

I was there for nine months. They made me gain 30 pounds. I was up to 120 lbs by the time they discharged me. That was still considered underweight for my height but I managed to convince them and my mom that I would continue to gain weight once I left.

When I got home there was no more locks on my door or the bathroom door. All the scales were taken out of the house and my mom made me sit down and eat three meals a day with her. But now school is back in session and like I feared the bullies were gonna go extra hard on me. "Look who's back. It's Brendon urine. I heard you were hospitalized for anorexia. I just don't see it. How is he anorexic if he looks SO fat?"

I ran to the bathroom and started throwing up everything I ate that morning. "So not only is he anorexic he's also bulimic. Wow that hospital he went to REALLY helped him." "Leave me alone!" I screamed. Jon and Ryan busted into the stall I was hiding in and started beating me up. And ever since then when I went to school I would throw up whatever I ate for breakfast, skip lunch, and have a low calorie dinner.

The nurse walks me into Dr. Pawlovich's office. I sit down on one of the very uncomfortable plastic chairs. "Are you eating three meals a day?" The nurse asks me. I nod my head. "Do you know why you're still losing weight then?" She asks me. I tell her I've been working out still and having three 500 calorie meals a day. "Well Brendon for someone in your condition we like to see you eating at least 2200 calories a day." My eyes widen. "I know that's hard to ask but it will make you happier and healthier in the long run." You don't know what will make me happy so shut up! I think to myself. I smile at her so she thinks I'm agreeing with her.

She then checks my pulse and my blood pressure. "Alright your pulse and blood pressure is normal. The doctor will be in here shortly." The nurse exits the room. After about half an hour there's a knock on the door. "Come in." Dr. Pawlovich's walks in. He's one of my therapists that I see. This one is obviously for my eating disorder.

That was one of the agreements I made while at the hospital. That when I get out I had to continue counseling. I also have to take my pills everyday and go to out patient therapy. I haven't started out patient therapy yet and I really don't want to go.

I tell Dr. Pawlovich that I'm fine and that I promise I'll work on eating more. I lie to him about how well school is going. He's very proud of me. He thinks I'm improving. Slowly but that's better than not at all. He doesn't think I need any med increases. He is so easy to fool. The thing about counselors is that they'll believe whatever you tell them. As long as they don't find out your weight.

I check out at the front desk after my appointment. My mom sees me and and asks how my appointment went. "Good I gained some weight," I lie. "Good. I'm happy for you. So do you think this counseling is helping you?" My mom asks. I nod my head. "And one day I don't think I'll need counseling anymore. I'm realizing that what I was doing to my body was very bad and I'll never do it again," another lie.