Skinny Love

Chapter 38

Three days. Three whole fucking days. That's how long I've been stuck in this stuffy hospital room with food being forced into me through a tube and doctors coming in every five seconds asking me questions that I don't have the answers to.

Questions like;

"How long have you been like this Hattie?"

"What started all of these unhealthy thoughts and habits?"

"When was the last time you ate a proper meal?"

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

I'm sick of it. I don't need some stranger coming in and questioning me about my whole life and all of my decisions when I don't even know why I do the stuff I do or how it all started. So I answer the questions in the exact same way every single time;

"I don't know."

"As long as I can remember."

"I can't remember"

Cole has been here most days, only leaving my side when my dad forced him to go home and get some sleep and clean clothes. He refuses to go to school, despite all of my efforts of trying to get him to leave. I don't want him seeing me like this; all weak and fragile. It's not fair to him to be waiting at my bedside while he could be at school being with his friends.

Hannah comes after school every day but I think if she had her way she would never leave. My dad is forcing her to go to school instead of waiting around here everyday with me. That's probably the only thing I agree with him about. She shouldn't need to see me like this either. However, we have gotten closer over the past few days. I mean, we've probably spoken more in these three days than we have in three years.

My dad hasn't left once. He sleeps on the couch in the corner of my room and eats in the hospital cafe. No matter how many times I've insisted he go home and get some proper rest and do his work, he refuses to leave, saying he can work from the hospital anyway. It's a weird feeling having him here. He never seemed to care about me before whenever my mother or Hannah said anything harsh to me and yet here he is.

Then there's my mother. She hasn't stopped by once. My dad said it's because she can't handle hospitals anymore since my grandma died but I know he's lying. If it was Hannah lying here, she would've dropped everything to run to her side and support her. But now she has officially proved how little she cares about me. However, if I'm being honest, I think it's better without her here. At least I don't have to worry about all of the snide comments about me being here.

The doctor thinks I have anorexia nervosa, which apparently means I have an obsessive desire to lose weight. Sometimes when I think about it, it makes sense but other times, it seems like the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.

"How do you develop anorexia then?" my dad asked when the doctor told him.

"Well, it's complicated as there's not one main cause per say but it can be a combination of physical, environmental, social, biological and genetic factors."

"Genetic?" he questioned again, too curious for my liking.

"Yes, like the majority of mental disorders, if somebody in the family has had an eating disorder, it makes it more likely that somebody else will as well."

There was a moment of awkward silence while my dad thought this fact over.

"M-my mother had an eating disorder. Sh-she never told us what it was and I never really thought much about it. I didn't realise it could affect someone else in the family."

And that was how I found out there could be a logical, scientific explanation for why I'm like this. All this time of suffering, thinking there was something wrong with me and there was no rhyme or reason for it, for it to be rationalised in a second. It's a weird sensation having all the dots connect as to why I'm like this but it doesn't make me feel any less broken.