The Self-Harmed

~Eating Disorder 101~

"Hello everyone!" Our group leader said. "You are in this group because everyone in this room self harms. There is different types of self harms. Cutting, burning, bruising and starving are some examples. This is a no judgement area. We are here to talk about why you do the things you do."

I was slouched in my chair sandwiched between Ryder and Clara, the two people who wanted me to admit to myself I had an eating disorder. And was it just me or did the group leader seem a little too psyched to be here right now? I drew in my arms so they weren't brushing against Ryder and Clara. Not that their arms were big enough anyways.

"We'll get to everyone, but who wants to start?" The leader looked around the room with a smile eyes landing on Ryder as he raised his hand. "Ryder perfect."

"I'm Anorexic."

"And you do it because?"

"I hate myself. I was the chubby kid everyone made fun of. Even my family poked fun at me. So first I began to starve myself, but my body wasn't used to it so when I did end up eating I would binge. I would eat everything in sight. I felt so fat and useless, that the toilet became my only friend. I'd eat then throw up.

It helped but what really helped is when I started only eating three hundred calories a day, and throwing up three times a week, and using laxatives after every meal. That's when I began to really drop the weight. First everyone was proud of me. And then people began to worry about me. I dropped from two hundred pounds to seventy-three pounds in less than four months. Then I was put into this place."

"Why did you do it?" Group leader asked, as if learning a piece of gossip. "I mean, everyone was worried about you right?"

"If I may?" Clara looked over at Ryder, who nodded and tossed out a hand.

"We do it to feel empty. To feel perfect. If we can't control the things in our lives we can control bodies."

"Even if it will kill you?" Group leader asked.

"That's the down fall of self harm. Such a bad thing can make you feel so wonderful." She looked down at her hands.

"Charlie, your a cutter correct?"

"Um, yep."

"What made you start?" Group leader asked.

" I feel like this is going to come out sooner or later, so there's no point in hiding it. You already know don't you? I bet you have a big file on me sitting on your desk right now as we speak." I paused not getting a response  from her. "I had this friend, His name was Owen. He reminds me of Ryder oddly enough. Anyways He had a really bad home life and well life in general. It just sucked for him. His parents were always fighting, His sister killed herself, because the dad was raping her, and beating her and she had a really bad case of depression. She had Alone carved on her arm, and when she killed herself, Owen carved it into his arm, and when He killed himself, I carved the word into my arm. It was the first time I had ever cut, and for the first time in my life I found a way to get the pain from the inside to the outside.

Relief was instant but only lasted for a little while. I promised that I'd never cut myself, I had to help Owen get better, But when he was gone what was the point?"

"What made you give up on yourself?"

Everyone looked at Ryder except for me.

"I don't know."

"I understand you have an eating disorder also?" Group leader asked.

"I don't." I sighed for the millionth time.

"Your mother beat Anorexia and she noticed the starting signs in you. That's what made her call us. She went here when she was young. She was sixty-eight pounds by the time we got her."

"She never told me."

"She looked at it as a weakness. Self harm to her was a weakness. She had to hurt herself to make herself feel better about herself."

Everyone was quiet.

"Does anyone else want to say anything?"

A buzzer went off.

"See you Wednesday."

"When do you start seeing your Therapist?" Clara asked, skipping to my side, as if I hadn't just told my entire life story.

"Next week on Tuesdays. Can you help me with something?"

"Sure?"

"Help me get rid of all my junk food. I need to know If I'll drop weight."

"No. Your supposed to be getting better."

"How can I get better if I don't know I'm sick?"

"Charlie-"

"I'll do it myself."

"Charlie!"

"Where's she going?" Ryder asked before I turned the corner.