My Imaginary Foe

It's quiet in the sunny room.
Lunch is only halfway over.
I still have to eat this stupid, fucking sandwich.

I wanted to keep her hidden.

My head is in between my hands.
Eyes closed.
Jaw clenched.
Leg shaking.
I feel like there's a spotlight on me.
Get me out.
GET ME OUT.

"What is your eating disorder saying to you right now?"

I look up to address the cold, tense quiet of girls inside their heads fighting their own voices.
They are angry, they are tired, they are conflicted, they are disordered--just like me.

"Mine is saying, wipe the grease off your sandwich. They won't notice. No normal person would even eat that salami. There's too much butter on that. This is disgusting. So unhealthy. You're disgusting. You can't eat that. Wipe it off. You have to workout tonight. I don't care that you did yesterday..."

I get quiet. I feel ashamed. I do not know how to move on.

The dietitian's voice brings me back.
"What would you say to your eating disorder if it were here right now?"

My head is back down.
My jaw is still clenched.
My eyes squeezed closed.
I see her plain as day.
We're sitting at the table together.
We've got the same outfit on.
Nikes, leggings, hoodie, vest.

I picture her--me--saying those things out loud to me.

"You fat fuck. You're fatter than all these girls here. You disgust me. Ya look at your thighs. Everyone sees them. I know you've gained so much weight since starting. You're just adding to it. You fat fuck. You disgust me..."

Then I hear me say loud and clear.

"Leave me alone."

The tears come instantly.

My eyes open. The girl next to me isn't a girl in treatment it's me but a mean me. ED me.

I look at her.

I say it quieter, scared of the power the first statement had and what it would ignite.

"Leave me alone. You have been talking to me all my life. I want to be left alone. I don't want to listen anymore. Just go please just go. You've taken so much from me. Just leave me be. Just leave me be. Just leave me be...."

My words turn into silent sobs.

She leaves.