ThinandBeautiful.com Page 18
anyone who says they don’t want to be thin is lying. they say we’re stupid and gross for purging but they just don’t have the guts. lol
divinethinspiration says:
hahaha, that’s what i always thought but i thought maybe i was nuts.
lookingforlight says:
ur not nuts. don’t put yourself down like that. ur a good person who wouldn’t want to hurt anyone on purpose. u can’t control everything around you. it’s not ur fault.
bodaciousbod says:
nah, it’s your family who r nuts. mine too
lookingforlight says:
thats not really fair either. maybe no one is nuts. just misunderstood.
bodaciousbod says:
and that’s why we call her looking for light … always looking for the good in crazy people who are out there trying to make us all fat with their conspiracies and evil ways!
I often had my earphones on when I was on the computer, listening to my downloads, so I couldn’t hear if anyone called me or even came into my room. It was never really an issue, given that everyone pretty much stayed out of my way. I didn’t hear my mom’s voice until it was right beside me.
“Madison!” Mom’s voice blended with the music and confused me for a second until she reached over and pulled the headphones off my head.
“What are you doing?” I asked, grabbing at the headphones while trying to shut down the computer at the same time.
“Don’t turn it off. I want to see what you’re doing.” Mom actually took my arm by the wrist and moved it away from the keyboard. I shook her off and looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Dad was standing a couple of feet behind her, looking uncomfortable and upset.
“What are you doing?” I repeated, more loudly this time.
“I told you. I want to see this. I paid for the computer and I pay for the Internet service so I guess I can look at what you’re using it for until all hours of the morning,” Mom said, leaning over to read the screen. I hadn’t had the brains to shut off the screen even, so everything was there right in front of her. She stood there reading for a minute, shaking her head. I didn’t say anything because the reality of what was happening hadn’t really sunk in. It had never occurred to me that anyone knew what I was doing. I figured everyone was asleep when I was with my friends.
“What are you thinking?” she demanded, turning to look at me. Her eyes were shiny as if she had been crying again, and her face was red. She looked as angry as I’d ever seen her.
“What is the problem?” I said. “It didn’t cost anything. Everyone uses the Internet. Not just me.”
“It’s not about money. Look at what you’re doing.”
“What is the problem?” I asked again. I didn’t see why she was so mad. “It’s a free site. It’s a free world. I’m just talking to my friends.”
“Madison, these sites are for girls who are sick. These things they are saying are horrible. The pictures are even worse!” Her voice seemed to be shaking.
“When did you see the pictures?” I asked, which I guess wasn’t the point, but I wanted to know.
“I suspected what you were doing all night, and this morning you left your computer on so I checked your favorites. I don’t know which one you’re spending all your time on, so I looked at everything. The chats, the pictures, the so-called expert information. Don’t you know what this is? These are all girls with serious problems, Madison! They’re starving themselves and this Internet garbage makes them think it’s OK. It makes you think it’s OK!” Mom stopped and sat down on my bed. She closed her eyes for minute. There were tears leaking out from under her lids.
“You went on my computer. You think my leaving it on was some kind of open invitation to invade my privacy? These girls don’t have problems. They’re not sick. They’re just making a choice for themselves. You’re the one who’s sick. So paranoid that you would actually sneak into my room like that!” I couldn’t believe my ears. I couldn’t believe I had been so totally out of it this morning that I had actually walked out of my room leaving myself logged in. Then again, it never, ever occurred to me that my mother would take that as permission to look. It was like reading someone’s diary! I mean, I never saw her as the world’s greatest respecter of privacy but this was going too far, even for her. My mother had no defense here. Unreal.
“Don’t make this about me. I did what any mother would do. It’s my job to protect you and I’m not going to apologize for doing it. This is about you and these girls you think are so wonderful. You think these girls are talking about choice? They’re making a choice? What kind of a choice is it to decide to stop eating and hurt yourself and anyone who loves you? Who would choose that?” Mom was getting pretty close to yelling so I decided I could yell right back at her.
“I can’t believe you see it that way! You’re talking like they’re – we’re – all a bunch of monsters or something. That we don’t care about anyone but ourselves!”How could she be so blind?
“I don’t think any of you are monsters. You’re all little girls who are trying to figure out big problems. You need to talk to real, live human beings who can help you.”
“Newsflash, Mom. These are real live human beings, just like me. You don’t have to see someone for them to be real. And they do help me. They’re the only ones who understand me and don’t think I’m stupid or something. You’re just proving that even more right now. You don’t get any of it at all.” I felt like crying myself but I wouldn’t let the tears come.
“They don’t love you. I love you. I want you to be well and happy. All of these girls need someone, an adult to help them. I want to find someone to help you.” Mom’s voice softened. I wasn’t buying the whole calm voice persuasion tactic.
“No, you just want me to be fat. You never supported my diet ever. I had to do this all by myself. I needed to find some answers. I don’t regret it at all. I found some real friends for the first time in my life.”
“Why on earth would I want you to be fat? That doesn’t even make sense. I just want you to be healthy. And you have always had friends, Maddie. You aren’t seeing things clearly these days. You’re scaring me. You’re my baby. I just want to make sure you’re well.” Mom reached out to stroke my hair, but I pulled away from her.
“I’m not sick. I’m fine. Stop saying I’m sick. I’m fine!” I sounded like a demented parrot but I couldn’t find another way to tell her. She didn’t want to listen and I was tired of talking.
“Madison, I can’t let you keep on talking to these girls. I can’t let you be a part of it. And I don’t want you going off and finding another site. We’re taking the computer out of your room today. You can use the one in the living room.”
“Are you kidding me? You can’t do that! I’m not some little kid! You can’t make me use the computer in the living room so you can spy on me! It’s bad enough that you spied on me in my own room!”
“It’s the only thing I can think of right now. I want to help you and you won’t let me. This is the only thing I can do.” Her voice sounded tired, but I didn’t care.
“You aren’t helping me. You’re just messing everything up! This is the only thing I look forward to! These are the only people who understand me! They’re the only ones who stop me from feeling like crap! You can’t do this!” I felt panicky. I couldn’t believe what she was saying. I didn’t want to be all alone. She couldn’t do it.
“I’m sorry, Madison, it’s all I can do. Your dad is going to take your computer out now.” Dad had been standing there quietly, like a roadie waiting for his cue from the star of the show. He stepped forward at my mother’s words. He looked uncomfortable and upset, but I didn’t care about him either.
“No!” I screamed it. “You have no right! This is my life! I can live it the way I want! You have no right!”
“I’m sorry, Madison. We have to start somewhere. We will get you some help. We’ve been talking to some people who are able to help you.” My mom was still doin
g the talking. My dad seemed to be standing in suspended animation, like he didn’t know what to do. No matter what he chose, he would totally upset one of us. Looking back, it was probably tough for him, but at the time I could only see that it was tough for me. Not just tough. Unbearable.
“I don’t need help!” I yelled and jumped to my feet. I knocked the computer screen off the table where it fell to the floor and smashed. I stood a minute and looked at it. I looked at my parents. Steve came running in the door, looking frightened. He seemed wide awake and had probably been listening at the door. Another spy. He looked like he was going to say something, but my mother shook her head at him and he just stopped and stood there staring at me.
“There. Now you don’t have to worry about it. It’s broken. Here, let me finish it.” I gave the screen a kick and then took the computer tower and smashed it on the floor before my parents had time to react.
“Madison, stop that!” My dad finally moved again, stepping forward to stop me from smashing the rest of the computer pieces, but I was done. I stood and looked at my family, my tears finally letting loose.
“Please get out. Just leave me alone. Please,” I pleaded with them. I was so terribly tired. I needed to be alone. My parents looked at me for a moment. My mother turned away first and reached back for my father’s hand. He looked at me again and then left with her. Steve stood there for another minute. He had the same look in his eyes that he did the day he tore all the ligaments in his knee playing soccer. He looked like he wanted to say something to me but I guess he couldn’t think of anything because he just shrugged his shoulders and left.
They all left me alone with my broken computer, random pieces of my life scattered all over the floor.
I looked at the shards of my friends and felt the floodgates open. I cried until my eyes were as dry as sandpaper and there were no more tears anywhere in my body.
When my parents came to me a couple of days later and told me that I was going to a special place in the city where nice people would help me, I didn’t even argue. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered any more.
May 20
So many days of writing out my past and I’m becoming less and less sure of who I really am. It’s like looking in a mirror and being unable to recognize the face staring back at me, wondering what this stranger is really thinking about.
I thought I had this all figured out. Looking back, I was sure I knew what I was doing. I have a right to do what I want with my own body, and so I did it. I wasn’t hurting anyone, including myself. I knew this absolutely. I had it confirmed by my GWS and everything. My parents and Annie were wrong and I was right. Simple.
I was in this godforsaken prison for dieters due to a lack of understanding on my family’s part. Period. Paragraph. End of the story.
But as I read some of the stuff that has happened over the past couple of years I am starting to wonder a little if I absolutely knew what I was doing after all. Not that I think I’ve been totally wrong here or anything. But I’m starting to wonder a little. It’s hard to put it into words, which is something pretty new for me because putting things into words is one of my best tricks.
But when I look at my own words, and read back the part about losing my best friend, I don’t know what to say anymore. When I read it to myself it’s like I’m stepping back and looking at my own words through someone else’s eyes. Not that I want to give her any credit, but I’m starting to think that maybe Red was on to something with the whole writing assignment.
So, the next time I sat there and started reading it, I made myself actually remember it. I thought about Annie and who she is, and who she always was to me. Then I read it again, only this time, I switched the roles. I put myself into Annie’s place and put her into mine. I tried to see what Annie had seen. I tried to imagine how I would feel if I thought Annie was sick and couldn’t help herself. Wouldn’t I do anything I could to make it right for her? Wouldn’t I tell anyone I had to that I thought there was something wrong? It’s like that kid with the scars on her arms. I didn’t tell and I should have. I can see that now. If it were Annie, I would tell. I would shout it from the top of the tallest building in town, which isn’t very tall, but I would still do it. I would tell my mom and her mom and the teacher and the doctor and the dog down the lane if I thought it would help her. I would do what I thought I had to do to help my very best friend. Even if I was wrong in her eyes, I would still do it if I believed it was right for her. At least, I hope I would.
My very best friend. I could feel the tears welling up and decided not to fight them. I needed to cry. I had messed up. All this time, I’d been so angry and so sure that I was right and she was wrong. Now she was gone and I was here and I didn’t know how to fix it. I screwed everything up! I pushed her out of my whole stupid life and all she was trying to do was help me because she thought I was in trouble.
I want to talk to someone about this. I’m all twisted up in knots and I don’t know how to untie them. I’m still not sure that I want to spill my guts to a bunch of strangers in one of those circle sessions, although I have to admit that I’m not sure anymore that I don’t want to talk to them, either. Wolf wouldn’t want to listen to me whine about my stupid past, and besides, I don’t really want him to know that I was a complete loser. Marina would probably listen, but I’m not so sure I want her to know what a lousy friend I’ve been, either. Big Red would probably be more than happy to listen, but I’m definitely not ready for that. Although there is part of me that is starting to think it might be better than nothing.
But I do have something. I have my GWS. They would listen, or read, I guess, and wouldn’t judge. They were there for me when it happened. They would still help me with it. I know they would. I need to find them.
It’s time to take Marina up on her offer. She seemed pretty sure that it would be OK and I guess I have to trust her on this one. I don’t want her to get in trouble. I don’t want me to get in trouble, either. But my need to stay out of trouble isn’t as strong as my need to find my friends.
May 21
Marina was right about Wolf. He didn’t seem to be all that worried about helping us and came with us to breakfast so we could plan our big adventure. Actually, to be honest, Wolf and I sat and listened to Marina plan our big adventure. She drew a floor plan for us on a paper napkin. None of our rooms were all that close to where the night shift worker sat and read her book. What exactly was she sitting there for anyway? Did they think there might be an uprising of skinny girls wielding carrot sticks in the middle of the night?
I couldn’t figure out how we could be absent from our rooms for any length of time. It’s not like they did a sweep every hour or anything, but you never knew when the worker might get bored and decide to do a little room inspection. Marina was confident that we could do the old pillow in the bed trick just on the very off chance someone peeked into our room, which would give us time to sneak down the hall and the stairs to the office floor below. She mapped it all out in intimate detail and made it seem so easy that Wolf and I shared a little bit of her confidence by the time we finished and headed off to attend all of our scheduled events like good little boy and girls.
My confident feelings had pretty much all floated away by nighttime as I sat in my room, sweating like a pig and trying not to shake, watching the clock tick away the minutes until our big caper. Time and its tricks. We were meeting at 10:45, and at 10:35, after about an eternity or two of waiting and sweating, I got up and shoved my pillow under the blankets, jumbling them all around to look like I was still there. I had always thought that trick looked so bogus in movies, but glancing back I had to admit that if you weren’t looking too hard, you wouldn’t really know that I was gone.
I slipped out into the hall like a thief in the night, plastering myself against the wall. I looked up and down, fully expecting a bright light to be shone into my eyes as I was caught in the first thirty seconds. Nothing. Not a sound. I couldn’t even see the night
shift worker from where I was, so I was pretty sure she couldn’t see me. I slunk down with stealthy grace, my slippers making no sound as I made my way. I eased the door to the stairwell open, praying that it wouldn’t creak. It answered my prayers, and I slipped through.
I ran down the stairs as fast as I could without falling, which would have ruined everything because if I broke my leg we would most likely get caught. I found the second floor, which wasn’t too difficult because I had only come from the third floor. I opened the door and looked up and down that hall. You would have thought that all of those doors would be locked in a prison, but I guess this place was minimum security.
“Hi.” I screamed right out loud at the sound of the voice in my ear and then clamped my hand to my mouth. Marina laughed.
“Don’t worry. This is the office floor. It’s been closed since five. Wolf’s already down in the office waiting. Let’s go.”
I followed her down the hall with my hands still clamped to my mouth. I didn’t trust myself and I wasn’t so sure the walls were all that soundproof. Wolf was standing in the doorway of the office. He smiled at me. I took my hands away to smile back. Marina looked at us both and shook her head.
“OK, you guys, save the smile-fest for after we get this done. Wolf, you stay in the doorway but far enough back that they won’t see you if they come down.”
“What? Who might come down? I thought this place was dead!” I started to panic again.
“It is. You just never know what the security guard will decide to do and I just want to take the precaution. I’m sure it’s fine. Relax.” Marina patted me on the head. I looked at Wolf. He just kind of shrugged his shoulders, which wasn’t very reassuring, but I went in with Marina anyway. It was too late to turn back now and besides, this was for me after all.
We were standing in a small reception office that I vaguely remembered from the first day I came. I have a recollection of my parents signing my freedom away while a lady sat there in that very room and logged my life into their database. It seemed fitting somehow that I was reclaiming some of my freedom in the same place where it had been ripped away.