You're going to die
TW- mentions of trauma, details of trauma, eating disorders, ocd, death, chronic illness, child abuse
I see her now, when im laying in bed crying myself to sleep. So weak, in pain, and scared of everything. She was so small.
"YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!"
She stopped eating 2 weeks ago. Couldn't even hold her eyes open to look at her mother while she screamed at her. Rolling over onto her side to throw up off the edge of the mattress.
"THIS IS YOUR OWN FAULT FOR NOT EATING!"
How could she eat? The lining of her stomach mixed with bile in a bowl next to her. Couldn't even hold her head up anymore.
"THEY WILL TAKE YOU AWAY!"
She hated being sick more than anything. The crying on the bathroom floor at 3am. The humiliation rituals in front of a camera.
"I'LL BUY YOU A WHOLE CHOCOLATE CAKE IF YOU EAT IT ALL!"
The smell in that room. The black spots when she would stand up, just to fall. The carpet burn from crawling around.
"THEY WILL HOOK YOU UP TO TUBES AND MACHINES!"
Her clothes being 4 sizes too small and still sliding down. The bones sticking out through her skin. Her fingernails so brittle.
"WE ARE GOOD PARENTS YOU SHOULD BE GREATFUL!"
Salty tears drench her pillows. Skype calls on the family PC. The insults that came through the screen from millions of miles away.
"TURN AROUND SO THEY CAN SEE YOUR SPINE!"
The situps done in the dark. Running from the dinning table to throw up after each bite. Hiding the food they put in your lunch box.
"GET BACK IN THE CUPBOARD UNTIL YOU FINISH YOUR DINNER!"
Pale skin that you could see through. Her arm hair growing thicker to keep her warm. And the pain in her stomach becoming permanent.
"JENNIFER YOU ARE GOING TO DIE! DO YOU KNOW HOW BAD THAT WILL MAKE US LOOK?"
Die?
No.
That would have been too easy.
You see, she is still here. When I go the hospital for blood tests. Or when I feel nauseous. Even when its too dark. Or the room is too small. When the doctors leave a wire on me. Or someone offers me some cake. When I get a little too hungry. She is there.
Scared. Not dead.
See, I thought my mother did her best. And maybe she did. But if her best is creating fear around something as vital for survival as food... then her best is shit.
Whats with the hospital fear too? Hospital is where i should have been taken. A good parent would have taken me to hospital instead of telling me about the machines. I should have been on a tube instead of terrified of it.
And now im actually sick. For real sick. And I have to go to hospital. All the time. Each blood test i cry. When they leave a tube or wire on me I throw up. And when they ask me my weight I wish I had died.
Thing is you dont get to pick if you are sick. But my mother got to pick how scared id be. And when im in those rooms, im 8 years old. Terrified.
-Jen xx
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