over and over [Jacob black x OC] [[complete]] ..twilight..

14

the rest of February and the beginning of march were a really hard time for me. Bella became increasingly distant and weird again while Jacob ignored us both completely. I still had to make the decision every day to wake up, get out of bed, and go to school. sometimes I let myself sleep in bed all day. sometimes I would fall asleep in classes and teachers felt too bad to wake me up. Charlie got a few phone calls but all he could come up with was "maybe you should go to bed earlier". I couldn't blame him for not knowing how to handle us; shit, he was better at it than our mom was. I don't even want to get into that.

binges were becoming more frequent while my weight began to stagnate around 108lbs. for 5'7, thats not too bad, but it wasn't low enough, either. I still had too much fat in my face, thighs and belly. running was becoming too difficult, so to make up for it, I tried fasting longer. this often led to horrendous binges. binges often led to horrendous purges. it was a disgusting cycle that left me weighing the same every day.

ever since I had seen the boys cliff diving in February, I couldn't stop daydreaming about it. as I would fall asleep, I would imagine myself standing at the edge of the cliff. I would see myself throw my body over the side and dive into the coldest water, chilling me instantly, preventing my limbs from flailing. I would just sink into the dark grey water until I reached the bottom. I'd see all the secrets hidden in the ocean. lost jewelry, skeletons, a shipwreck and a sea creature no one had ever seen before. sometimes, my vision had a hero. someone would pull me from the water and pump my chest and breathe into my mouth until I miraculously came back to life. I'd vomit up salt water and gasp for air. the person (sometimes Alice's handsome boyfriend Jasper, sometimes Jacob or Embry) would be so relieved that they were able to save me. they would ask me, "why did you do it?" and I would say, "I was already dead".

it was poetic and beautiful.

real life wasn't poetic and beautiful.

real life was corrosive stomach acid and bile. it was dizziness and chest discomfort and near-constant headaches and irritability. it was weeks of constipation and missed periods with random spotting. it was paranoid delusions at 3am. it was increasingly bad grades and missed school days. it was fucking hard.

some time in march, I found out that Bella was hanging out with Jacob again, even though he never texted me back or returned my calls. I imagined he was sick of my depressing nature. clearly, he didn't want anything to do with me anymore for one reason or another. I felt so lonely.

one night after a missed school day, Charlie and I sat quietly through a dinner that I didn't take any part in. lately, I've continued to sit with him through dinner, but I stopped eating with him altogether. it was difficult.

"I want to talk to you about something, but I need you to promise me you won't get too... upset," Charlie said cautiously as he set his crumpled napkin on top of his ketchup-y plate.

I sighed, bracing myself for the worst, praying he wouldn't send me back to phoenix. "okay," I said quietly.

"I talked to someone at the department, a social worker, about you... I didn't know what else to do," he said with a shrug, reacting quickly to my sour expression. "I can't just sit here and watch you die."

again with the dramatics.

"she suggested that you consider going to a treatment center to get evaluated. they could help us decide what your next steps should be," he said, definitely using exact phrases that his social worker colleague used. "they could give us a bunch of options like inpatient or outpatient or whatever."

"I'd rather not," I sighed.

"well I didn't think you'd be jumping for joy to go, but... I just need you to try. you have to imagine how hard this is for me," he said in a strangely open way.

I frowned at my thighs, trying not to cry. my throat clenched sorely.

"if I make an appointment for this week, will you promise to go and be honest in the evaluation? you don't have to commit to anything on the spot," he pleaded.

he fucking lied about that.

the physician that evaluated me at a local mental health center declared that my body was in imminent danger if I didn't go directly to an eating disorder clinic an hour from Seattle. I was given two options: leave in an ambulance willingly, or leave in an ambulance unwillingly. I chose to go "willingly".

it was a terrible experience. there were so many oppressive rules about drinking glasses of fucking milk and fortified drinks for old people. rules about not going to the bathroom during or after meals at all for a certain amount of time, then other times we were monitored. no remotely sharp objects. naked weigh-ins.

sober living was hard. sober living and being forced to gain weight was harder.

I was "treatment resistant", defiant, disorderly, rude, mean, and irritable, among other things. so was everybody the fuck else.

they tried to get me to think about my future. I was expected to have plans and ideas and goals. one day, I sarcastically announced that I was going to be the leading scientist in the fight against obesity in America. the body positive binge-eaters and therapist were not keen on my vision.

I made friends with the cruelest bitch I've ever met. she spat on another girl in the cafeteria just for talking about ice cream. she chain-smoked cigarettes in the courtyard while we gossiped about the other girls and nurses. she told me she was going to have sex with nurse Allen before she got out of there. her name was Janie and she was fucking cool.

she was a skinny girl but she wasn't scary and bony like most of us. she had real tits but maintained a thigh gap. her hair was long, soft, shiny, and blindingly blonde. at sixteen years old, she had bulimia all figured out until it landed her in this place. cedar acres. where bitches with eating disorder are fattened like ducks until they get the green light to go home and start all over again.

Janie taught me a few tricks to get out of this place. I had to do everything I was asked to do, even if I was a bitch about it. I had to put on the weight, but this, she assured me, was temporary weight. I had to get better before I could get worse again.
when we ate in the cafeteria together, she'd tell me where her mind would take her. to graduation, to her wedding day, to college graduation, to having children, to sexy vacations on beautiful beaches. she had things to look forward to.
i didnt. i couldnt even pretend. i didnt know where to go. sometimes i wandered through thoughts of the perfectly orchestrated suicide. sometimes i dreamt that i found my path. this path changed constantly, every time i started down this road. i could be a nurse, but i hated to be around bodily fluids and waste, especially someone elses. i could be a teacher, but i wasnt smart or motivated enough. i could be a housewife with children, if i wasnt so irresponsible and toxic. i could be anything if i wasnt me.
sometimes i pretended i wasnt me. i ate meals and told janie where i was going while i pretended to get better. i was going to be a therapist one day. i was going to wrote self-help books for teenage addicts. i was going to have children with my boyfriend, embry, and they would be beautiful and happy.
i wondered if janies vision was just a show, too.