ThinandBeautiful.com Read online

  It was tough keeping my parents off my case. They had obviously been talking to each other and had maybe even done some research on the Internet on the sites that warped your perspective, because they were trying all sorts of ways to get me to eat. They thought they were being subtle and clever, but they were pathetically obvious.

  My dad was the worst and the hardest to deal with. I mean, he was such a quiet guy most of the time, and I didn’t want to upset him when he tried to do things for me but his new trick was a problem. He started bringing me little treats and then standing there with this puppy-dog look on his face waiting for me to eat them. I didn’t want to upset him and then have him go to Mom and upset her so I ate them. He would look so happy when I did it that I felt OK about it for a minute or two.

  But only for a minute or two. Once he backed off and left me alone, I would start to feel the panic. I mean, that stupid brownie was inside me! All that fat and sugar just itching to get into my fat cells and bloat me up. I could actually see my stomach growing right before my eyes. I had to do something. I couldn’t leave it in there!

  The first couple of times, I tried exercising it away. I looked up the calorie count and tried to figure out exactly how much I had to do to burn it off. A couple of weeks after the party, I had finally managed to spend a little time with Devon running on the track and learning how to pace myself so I could run farther and burn more calories. Not that I told Devon that was the reason I needed to run. Someone that amazingly tall, naturally thin, and totally athletic wouldn’t have understood me any more than Annie. Actually, I only ran with her once or twice, and then I started running on the treadmill at home instead because it was just easier. Either way, running calories away took time and when I didn’t have enough of that, the fat and sugar would actually stay in there and start to grow and multiply.

  I had to do something else. I couldn’t stop my dad from bringing me the treats and there weren’t enough hours in the day to exercise everything away. I didn’t want to admit it right away but it seemed that the only solution was what everyone called purging. Puking. Barfing. Upchucking. Whatever you wanted to call it, it seemed kind of gross to me. But what else could I do? I didn’t want to upset my dad any more than I had to and I absolutely couldn’t allow my body to keep all of that garbage inside where it could fester and fatten.

  The first time I finally made myself do it was after my dad had brought me one of those ice cream “Drumsticks” that were way too big to be called a stick. He sat there and watched me eat it and I had to smile at him and say thanks. As soon as he left, I went to the bathroom and stood looking at the toilet. I didn’t know if I could do it. I had read some stuff about it on the Internet and had some ideas about how to do it in my head. I looked at my hand and tried to imagine putting my fingers down my throat. I looked at my stomach and tried to imagine the ice cream staying in my gut, turning into horrible fat and ruining all of my hard work. I couldn’t let that happen! The thought of it was a nightmare of major proportions that made tears come to my eyes and my throat ache. I had to do something. I had to do it fast before my body betrayed me and it was too late to get rid of it.

  I closed my eyes and leaned over. I shoved my fingers down until I started to gag, the way I had read about. I could feel my stomach heaving and I stopped for a moment. I leaned my head against the toilet and took a breath. I could feel the ice cream sitting in my stomach like a plague. I had to get rid of it! I tried again. This time the gagging and heaving happened faster and suddenly the ice cream was in the water. I sat back on the floor. I felt sick and my mouth tasted awful and my throat ache had turned into a harsh throbbing. Even my eyes hurt as if I had tried to pop them out of my face. I put my hands against my closed eyes, pressing them back into place and rocking back and forth on the bathroom floor. I felt horrible. Sick and sore and slightly guilty for some unknown reason.

  But the ice cream was gone. I could please my dad and still keep my body. I told myself it was worth it. Of course it was worth it. It was something I had to do. I really had no choice. Did I?

  I lay down on the cool tiles and stared up at the ceiling, trying to persuade myself that I shouldn’t feel like I had done something wrong. I wondered how long it was until it was time to talk to the girls and get some opinions that might help me figure out my own.

  divinethinspiration says:

  hi guys.

  bodaciousbod says:

  hey kid

  nevertoothin says:

  hi dt

  lookingforlight says:

  hey

  divinethinspiration says:

  i have a question again

  lookingforlight says:

  we might have an answer again. lol

  divinethinspiration says:

  do you all do the purging thing?

  bodaciousbod says:

  some do. not all. y?

  divinethinspiration says:

  tried to today for first time. grossed me out a little but felt ok to get rid of ice cream.

  nevertoothin says:

  ice cream is easy. good to start with it.

  divinethinspiration says:

  it was hard to do.

  bodaciousbod says:

  gets easier for some. some can’t stand it so try other things.

  divinethinspiration says:

  like?

  lookingforlight says:

  ppl have their own thing. exercise, water diet, laxatives.

  bodaciousbod says:

  hate laxatives. some do diet pills. i don’t. makes me feel weird.

  lookingforlight says:

  u r weird bb

  bodaciousbod says:

  hahahahahahahahah sooooo funny!!!!!!!!!

  nevertoothin says:

  yeah, well i forgot to laugh.

  divinethinspiration says:

  u guys are crazy

  lookingforlight says:

  but beautiful, right?

  nevertoothin says:

  totally going there. no shadows.

  lookingforlight says:

  just light … i’m almost where i want to be.

  divinethinspiration says:

  where is that?

  lookingforlight says:

  not a place. just a size.

  nevertoothin says:

  a size that feels like a place. like ur going somewhere nice where ppl think u look good

  bodaciousbod says:

  everyone accepts u

  divinethinspiration says:

  sounds like a nice place

  lookingforlight says:

  totally

  divinethinspiration says:

  so i’m not a bad person for puking up my dad’s presents?

  bodaciousbod says:

  no. you aren’t hurting anyone.

  nevertoothin says:

  none of us r hurting anyone. we just want to be ourselves. our true selves.

  bodaciousbod says:

  our true blue beautiful shadow-free awesome wonderful selves

  lookingforlight says:

  miss positive today!

  bodaciousbod says:

  it’s a good day. lost 3 more pounds. almost at my goal. break the 90.

  nevertoothin says:

  congrats

  lookingforlight says:

  double from me

  divinethinspiration says:

  triple from me. thx guys

  lookingforlight says:

  that’s thx girls yl!

  divinethinspiration says:

  sorry, girls.

  We kept on talking for hours and it was almost three when I got to bed. I knew I was going to pay for it in the morning but I didn’t care. That kind of tired was worth it. I needed my friends and they were there for me. I had to be there for them, too.

  Like they told me, I got better and better at it over time. It was still a little gross, but I practiced every time Dad gave me something. I even bought things sometimes just to give myself some extra practice. I got
to the point where I could actually use my stomach muscles to get the heaving going without the fingers some of the time, which was a better way to go because it didn’t mess up my throat as much and was quieter. I worked hard on being quiet because I obviously didn’t want anyone to know. Our house has three bathrooms and I made sure to use the one furthest away from everyone any time I needed it. I ran the sink water or the shower so that no one would hear. I was really good at it and no one even suspected my secret. Or so I thought for a while.

  “Madison, come out here! What are you doing?” My dad was pounding on the bathroom door one Friday evening. He had come home from work with homemade cookies from the bakery and I had eaten one after supper. I had managed to get rid of the cookie and half my supper, which was excellent because it meant less treadmill, and I got kind of distracted and didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs in time to stop.

  “Alex, what’s going on?” My mom’s voice joined in. I couldn’t believe they were both out there. Was there no privacy in this house?

  “She’s doing it again! I can hear her!” Again? Had he heard me before?

  “What is she doing?” Mom’s voice sounded a little panicked. I sat there silently. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid to even flush.

  “Throwing up! Puking her minimal guts out! Whatever you want to call it! She ate one lousy cookie I bought her and now she’s in there throwing up. She thought I had gone downstairs, I guess. Madison! Come out here!” He banged on the door again. I could feel the tears forming. I couldn’t come out! I wasn’t finished. I had to finish. If I waited too long, it would be too hard to get it out. I leaned over, trying to be quiet.

  “She’s doing it again! Listen! Madison, stop it! Now!” My quiet dad was screaming like a maniac. I started crying but I couldn’t stop purging. It was his fault anyway! Why had he brought me that stupid cookie? What was he trying to do to me?

  “Alex, this won’t help her.” My mom was trying to sound calm. “You know what the doctor said. We have to be calm. We can’t turn everything into a big fight.” I knew it! They had been talking to the doctor! No one respected my privacy at all!

  “I know what he said! But listen to her in there. One lousy cookie!” Was my dad crying? No, dads don’t cry.

  “I know. I’m scared, too,” Mom lowered her voice. I had stopped by now and had to turn off the water to hear them.

  “Maybe we’ll have to take her to the hospital or one of those private clinics. I don’t know what else we can do.”

  “Shh. She’ll hear you. Come on, honey. Just come downstairs. I’ll try to talk to her tomorrow.”

  I sat on the bathroom floor. My eyes were leaking tears that I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t know if I was sad or angry or just tired. My stomach hurt but that was OK because that cookie was gone. My chest hurt though, and that wasn’t OK. My heart was pounding, making the tears squirt out in rhythm, and my nose started to run. I grabbed some toilet paper and tried to stem the tide but I couldn’t stop. How could my dad say something like that? How could he even think about sending me away? All I wanted was to be thin. That wasn’t a crime! I had a right to control my body. I had a right to decide what stayed in it and what didn’t. It was a choice, a life choice.

  No one understood me in this house. I got up slowly and walked to my room. I stopped at the top of the stairs, straining to hear if the discussion was continuing, but everything seemed quiet. I went back to my room and closed my door quietly.

  I sat down at the computer and took a deep breath. I could feel my insides calming down as I looked at the screen and knew that my friends would be there soon.

  May 3

  Maybe all boys are just stupid. That’s what Annie used to say when some guy randomly made one of us feel bad because he didn’t fall madly in love with us when we decided to fall madly in love with him. She always told me that it was the guy’s loss if he wasn’t smart enough to recognize a good thing when he saw it. I think she actually believed it. I sometimes almost believed her, but I also couldn’t help but feel that there might just be something wrong with me if no guys were interested in being around me. Over time, I started to figure out that the thing wrong with me was that they were totally turned off by the way I looked. I never said that to Annie though. She would have told me that I was full of crap, or something even ruder, and laughed at me.

  When we were kids I used to be able to say any random thing that popped into my head to Annie. We used to have these crazy conversations where we’d start off talking about homework and end up inventing a new type of car that ran on hair gel and had a blow-dryer on the dashboard. Life is less complicated when you’re a kid. You don’t have to worry about what you’re going to be and what you are right now and how you’re doing in school and whether the guys like you or whether the girls like you or whether you’re good enough or pretty enough or small enough or tall enough or enough of anything to be worth something. When you’re a kid you mostly worry about what time supper is and how to get out of having a bath before bed. When you’re a kid, friends don’t betray you. At least that’s the way I remember it.

  But I’m not a kid anymore and life just keeps on getting more and more complicated. Even in this place. I mean, here I am in freakville worrying about some guy! As if I need guy troubles on top of trying to avoid Red and the gang and their protein shakes. I should really be concentrating on getting out of this dump. On the other hand, Wolf is much cuter than anyone else in this garbage heap and it would be nice to have someone interesting to look forward to seeing sometimes. Maybe Wolf didn’t ditch me because he doesn’t like me. Maybe all guys really are just stupid and can’t help it and need to be taught how to recognize quality when they see it. I would imagine if I asked Marina, which I am not going to do, that would be her opinion. She would likely tell me to teach him a lesson. Maybe I just won’t talk to him anymore – assuming he tries to talk to me. Maybe I’ll just play hard to get and make him realize what a good thing he’s missing. Ha. Like anyone stuck in this place is a good thing. Then again, he’s here, so maybe beggars can’t be choosing, or whatever that saying is. Of course, if that’s true then I’m back to being pathetic because if I can’t compete with the babes in this place, I don’t stand much of a chance back out in the big bad real world. I mean, they’re all thin and everything, but they aren’t exactly confident and classy like the popular girls in school. Not that I am either of those things either, but I hope that I might possibly be slightly more interesting than someone who doesn’t seem to know how to live her own life.

  “Hey.”

  I couldn’t believe it. There I was, thinking my usual screwed-up thoughts, and Wolf showed up right in the middle of the mess! I hadn’t even had a chance to figure out what I was going to do yet! I kept my head turned away from him for a moment and plastered a neutral, yet pleasant, expression on my face, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t see through it and figure out that I’d been questioning his brain power. As if I had the right to question anyone’s brain power when mine was so obviously lacking.

  “Hi!” I said, much too loudly and much too enthusiastically. Not so good at the whole playing-hard-to-get angle.

  “So, what’d you think of yesterday?” he asked. “Yesterday?” I asked back, straining my brain to remember yesterday. The days tend to run into each other in this place and words like yesterday and tomorrow stop meaning much.

  “The group session?” he reminded me.

  “Oh, the group session. Yeah, well, that was OK, I guess. I mean, some of the things they said were kind of interesting. So, what happened to you?” I tried to keep the question casual, like I didn’t actually care that he had left me high and dry with a bunch of strangers.

  “Oh, sorry about that. I just had to be somewhere.”

  “Oh, that’s cool. I was just making sure there wasn’t anything wrong or something like that. No worries.” Very smooth, if I do say so myself.

  “No, nothing wrong. Just needed to see someone.�
� Someone? A female someone, I bet. He probably had a girlfriend who baked him fat-free cookies and brought them to him in a pretty basket every Tuesday or something.

  I couldn’t think of anything more to say. There was one of those pauses when the air seems so heavy with silence that it’s pressing down on your head and you can’t come up with anything intelligent to say. I scrambled around for a brilliant conversation starter, but nothing. I looked around the room for inspiration, but it was pretty bare.

  “So.” I used the conversation starter that means nothing and everything all at the same time.

  “So, I guess I’ll take off. Maybe see you at group tomorrow. I think it’s at ten. I’ll even stick around this time.” He looked at me for a second and then walked away.

  “Sounds like a hot date.” Marina came up behind me as I stood watching Wolf walk down the hall. Even though I had decided not to ask her advice, I was glad to see her because talking to him had only added to the confusion filling my over-worked brain.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “So are you going to group tomorrow to hang out with the Wolfman?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t really like them much.”

  “Ah, but do you like him much?”

  “I don’t really know. My head seems to have stopped working and I have no idea what to do.”

  “Hey, I’m always here to help. Just call me the ward matchmaker.”

  “Yeah, right. You didn’t even show up in time to rescue me. You’re a big fat help.”

  “Watch your adjectives, chickie babe. Especially in this joint!”

  “Sorry! I can’t believe I actually used those words! I must be slipping.”

  “S’OK. I know you didn’t mean it. You don’t seem like a mean person.”

  “I’m not. At least I don’t think I am. I guess some people might not agree.”

  “Oh well, everyone can’t be smart and have good taste or the world would be boring. Speaking of boring, are you really going to group?”

  “I don’t know. Do you ever go?”

  “I’m not much of a joiner, but yeah, I go. I’m on one of the group schedules. I listen, but I don’t always talk. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

  “Well, there really isn’t much to do around here that’s interesting. Even if it isn’t a hot date, it’s still something to do for an hour and it might be nice to make the other circle babes a little jealous when I show up with the only guy.” Not that I actually thought that could happen, but there’s a first time for everything!