Perfectly Thin, page 23
Doctor Cooper smiles. “Leo’s one of my nurses. And when I find out there’s a patient who we think we can help, I send my nurses out to see if the patient is a good candidate for our program. Leo thinks we can help you.”
“He does?” How strange. I thought he hated me.
“He does. So, my question to you is this. Do you want the help?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes,” I reply.
“That answer is like music to my ears. It won’t be easy, and you’ll fall many times, but just know we’re here to help. If you’re serious about helping yourself, then we’re available to you, any time of the day or night.”
I try to smile, but my brain decides to go into overdrive. You’re so fat. You need to get your mouth stapled shut.
“What’s going through your mind?” She sits back in the chair, and crosses her legs at the ankles.
“Doctor Cooper, it’s like this voice in my head is already protesting.”
“First, please call me Izzy, or Isabel. And of course that voice is telling you things. Because it’s the loudest and strongest pathway in the brain. It’s had a lot of exercise and has built up quite forcefully over the course of your eating disorder. But I’ll give you tools to help you through when that annoyingly loud voice is lying to you. With hard work, that obnoxious voice will become weaker and weaker.” I nod, hoping to God, this works.
“I don’t want to be sick anymore.”
“You’re not exactly sick, Jane. You’re being controlled. And my team and I will be here to teach you to take control back for yourself.” She smiles. “I will challenge you. And I’ll also force you to look clearly at things, where that voice will try everything to convince you that you can only rely on it.”
“I’m terrified,” I say. I swallow back the saliva pooling in my mouth.
“Good. Because that means, you want help.”
“What if I fail?”
“We’ll teach you how to recognize a downward spiral, and when to ask for help.”
“What if I don’t ask for help?”
“This isn’t just about you, Jane. It’s about you, your entire family, and your support network.”
I lower my head. I’ve been so horrible to everyone. I can’t expect Emma and Presley to forgive me for pushing them away. Biting on my lower lip, I can only think maybe it’s better if I avoid them altogether. I’m such a bad person. My stomach squirms with this burden, and I can’t help but wonder what they think of me now and if they’ll forgive me.
“What’s going through your head?”
Clearing my throat, I try to say the words, but they get stuck. I fidget in the bed, trying to move so I can get comfortable. “Nothing,” I finally say, lying through my own God-damned teeth.
She won’t understand, because she’s not fat, like you.
“Ahhh,” I groan as I bring my hand up to my forehead, and slap my head.
Izzy doesn’t react, she doesn’t gasp, or tell me to stop. “What’s your inner voice telling you?” she asks after a few seconds.
“It’s dumb,” I immediately respond.
“It might be dumb, but you have to tell me if you want to help yourself.”
It takes me many moments to find the bravery and tell her. “It’s stupid,” I start staying. “My head is telling me you won’t understand because you’re not fat.”
“Do you know we have roughly twenty thousand thoughts a day?”
“We do?” I ask. “When?”
“Most of them are so deeply ingrained, we don’t even realize we’re thinking them.”
“Really?”
She nods. “Yeah. But the one thing that tells us what we’re thinking, even though we don’t think we’re thinking —” She giggles. “What a tongue twister, huh?” She smiles. “— is how we’re feeling. If you burst into tears for no obvious reason, it’s because a sad thought is ingrained very deep.”
“How are we supposed to control those thoughts if we’re not aware of them?”
“Your brain needs reprogramming to eliminate thoughts just like the one you were thinking, to tell you how I wouldn’t understand because I’ve never been fat.”
“But how?”
“The first thing we have to do, is track the thoughts.”
Huh? I tilt my head to the side. “What do you mean to track the thoughts?”
“When Leo comes in tonight, he’ll bring you a notepad and a pen, and you’ll track your thoughts. Write them down, so you and I can read them.” She looks at my cast. “Are you left- or right-handed?
“Left.”
Seems...simple. “Perfect. Okay,” I say. “It can’t be that easy, though, just to track my thoughts.”
Izzy stands and chuckles again. “I never said it would be easy. But it’ll certainly be worth doing.” The door opens as my parents and grandparents come into the room. “Good timing, I’ve had a chat with Jane, and I’m positive we can help.”
Dad extends his hand to shakes Izzy’s. “Thank you so much, Isabel,” he says.
Oh, they’ve already talked. Of course, they would have.
Although part of me wants to scream at them for going behind my back, another part understands. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jane.” Izzy leaves and I’m bombarded by my parents and grandparents.
“κούκλα, you look okay,” Papou says.
“She looks better today.” Yiayia barges past Papou to take the hand that’s not in a cast.
“How are you feeling?” Mom asks.
“I’m okay. I see you’ve already spoken with Izzy.”
“We’ve agreed to put you into the...um.” Mom waves her hand around, like she doesn’t know what to say.
“The Butterfly Wing?” I ask.
“Yes. I wasn’t sure what the doctor spoke to you about.” Mom’s face contorts, as if she’s uncomfortable.
“She told me it’s part of the hospital, and it helps with like, you know.”
“Eating disorders,” Dad says.
“Yeah.” I look down at the thin blanket covering me, and feel the shame creeping into my cheeks. I hate myself so much for putting everyone through this. Masking my face with my hands, I try to avoid everyone. But reality is, I can’t keep withdrawing into myself, it only brings harm to everyone I love.
They’re all talking quietly with one another. “I’m sorry,” I say. My parents, and grandparents all stop talking.
“What was that?” Dad asks.
“I’m sorry I’ve done this to you all. I didn’t want this to happen, I never wanted to worry any of you.”
“You had a heart attack, Jane. At eighteen, you had a freaking heart attack. Your heart couldn’t take what you were doing to yourself.” Mom puts her hand on Dad’s arm to stop him saying anymore.
“What we’re trying to say is, there’s only one of you in the world, Jane. One. There’s no one else who’s like you. We love and adore everything about you. And we want you, to love and adore everything about yourself too.”
I look down at the cast on my wrist, and burst into tears. I’m such a damn mess. How can anyone love me, when I don’t think I love myself?
This is my third day in the hospital, and I’m struggling. Breakfast has been served, and I’m staring at it like it’s the devil himself. Lucifer has risen from the hot confines of hell, and is standing in front of me, yelling and screaming.
“Good morning,” Leo says as he walks into my room.
“I didn’t see you last night, so I wasn’t sure if you’d be coming back.” He’s a welcome distraction from the food sitting in front of me.
“I had the night off, because I start on day shifts as of today.” He looks at the still-full breakfast tray, then goes about making his observations. “You’re being moved today, too.”
“Down to the Butterfly Wing, right?”
“Yep.” He walks around the room, and I watch as he does what he has to do. “How’s the wrist?”
“It’s okay, I suppose.”
He glances at the tray and smiles. “Not hungry?” Lowering my gaze, I shake my head. “Are you not hungry, or is that little voice telling you that you’re fat?”
“The little voice,” I whisper. “But in all fairness, it’s not little, it’s loud and controlling and a total asshole.”
I hear Leo laughing. Looking up, I see he has a huge smile on his face. “It is an asshole, you’re right. But don’t worry. We’ll kick it to the curb soon, and you’ll be able to ignore it.”
“Hopefully. I don’t want to keep hurting my family.”
“Or yourself,” Leo adds. I guess he’s right. “When we move you down to the wing, Izzy will be coming to see you. I’ll warn you, the first few sessions will be super intense.”
“Great,” I say. My stomach is already tensing, and my pulse has quickened.
Leo laughs again. “If you want easy, this isn’t the place for you.”
“I never said I wanted easy. I suppose, I’m just...I don’t know.” I shrug, non-committal.
“Sure, that makes sense. And it helps to have something to go on,” his sarcastic tone speaks volumes.
It’s my turn to smile. Leo’s kinda sassy for a guy, and I really like that about him. “I mean, I know life’s not meant to be easy.”
“Says who?” Leo snaps. “Life can be easy, and wonderful. It can be difficult and wonderful. It can be anything you want it to be, you just have to put your mind to it, and go for it.”
I follow him as he walks around the room, drags the chair over, and sits. “You’re sitting,” I say.
“You’re a perceptive one, aren’t you?” he says and adds a cheeky wink.
“I mean, don’t you have other patients?”
“I sure do, I’m run off my feet. And if you want me to go, I will. But I like talking to you.”
“Why?”
“Because you remind me of Chris. And I wish I was able to do for Chris what I’ll be able to do for you now.”
I remind Leo of his brother. I like that. “Do you really think life can be wonderful?”
“Darlin’, I think life can be amazing. We just have to train our brains out of what we think we know, and retrain it with what we want instead.”
I look outside, and notice the window is streaked with water, and there are gray storm clouds hanging low in the sky. “What do you see when you look outside?”
He turns to look over his shoulder, and turns back. “What do you see?”
“I see a gloomy, miserable day.”
He looks over his shoulder again, and turns to face me with a huge smile. “I see an opportunity to jump in puddles.”
“How can you be so optimistic?” I ask.
“Because the alternative isn’t an option for me. I’d rather see the glass as half-full, not half-empty. When you look at every situation with optimism, you soon figure out there’s nothing to stop you from getting what you want. Only you can stop you.”
Crinkling my brows together, this brings up more questions. “Do you think I can get better?”
“I think you can do anything you want.”
I start laughing. “Even run for President?”
Leo doesn’t even crack a smile. “If that’s what you want to do, then why not?” His eyes are intently staring at me, forcing me to stop laughing, and think about what I’ve asked. It’s not like I’d want to run for President, but I suppose, I could. If I wanted. “I’ve got work to do, and you’ll be moved soon. It would be good if you had a bite of your food. Anyway, I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Um, yeah okay. Thank you,” I say just as he walks through the door.
He stops, and turns to face me. “You’re welcome, Jane.”
There’s really something about Leo. He’s infectious, and I want to be around him. He makes things seem easy, like anything can be achieved. He’s pretty amazing. And nothing like I imagined he’d be like after that first time he came to see me.
“Jane, how do you like your new room?” Izzy asks as she walks through the door.
“It’s nice.” I look around, as I check out my new surroundings. Outside the window, there’s an enclosed garden which has some nice big trees. It’s serene, and quiet. “I suppose I’ll be here for a while.”
“You won’t be forced to stay. If you think you can do this by yourself, then of course, you’re free to go,” she says as she walks over and sits in the chair.
The room setup feels cozy, it’s not as sterile as a normal hospital room. It’s also quieter than where I was before. Three of the walls are white; one is purple. And the bed has bright, tie-dyed sheets with two purple blankets. I noticed when I was being moved, there’s a lot of purple going on in the ward. Even the corridors here are differing shades of purple.
“There’s a lot of purple,” I say.
“Do you know why?”
I shake my head. “No idea.”
“You know how the pink ribbon represents breast cancer?”
“Of course. Everyone knows that.”
“Purple represents eating disorders, among other things. Including, fat-shaming, skinny-shaming.”
“So it represents things to do with the body and food?”
“Nope, it also represents dementia, Lewy body dementia, domestic violence, pancreatic cancer, chronic pain, fibromyalgia, and animal abuse.”
“I don’t even know what a few of those are,” I say.
“Purple represents a lot of people. One of the reasons I took this job was because I really liked what the hospital was doing here. And I thought I could make a difference.” I nod, impressed by Izzy. “Leo told me you didn’t touch your breakfast.”
And now the internal shame-fest starts. I shake my head and lower my gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“I know this is your first day here, and today’s going to be really hard for you.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because today, we’re going to face your appearance.”
“I know what I look like,” I snap. “You say I’m too skinny; I say I’m way too fat.”
“Yep, I know. But this is a bit different.” She pats the space next to her on the small love seat, and I look at the spot. There’s no way my huge ass is going to fit in that teeny, tiny area. “Come on,” she says, encouragingly.
I take a hesitant step toward her. “There’s no way I’ll fit there.”
“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” I nod. “Slow your thoughts down, Jane. Let’s look for evidence that your thoughts are right. Why do you think you won’t fit here?”
“Because my ass, it’s literally huge. Like, massive.”
“Okay. Now look at the evidence. Put your thoughts on trial. Your thoughts have to prove to you that your butt is indeed huge. And the only way your thoughts can be proven right, is if you sit next to me, and see if there’s any room leftwhen you do sit.”
“But I’ll sit on you, and squash you.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Now, you’re the lawyer, and you need to prove your thoughts are either right, or wrong. Sit, and if your thoughts are right, then I’ll be squashed under you. If your thoughts are wrong, there will be ample room between us.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, desperately arguing with myself. A huge part of me is preparing for embarrassment, knowing when I sit, I’m literally going to sit on Izzy. Then there’s a slight, little voice, telling me to trust Izzy.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry for squashing you.” I’ve not moved a step and I’m already apologizing.
“No apologies are required here with me. There’s nothing to apologize for. As long as you do the hard work, there’s no need for apologies.” She pats the space next to her one more time.
Hesitantly, I step toward her.
You’re not going to fit.
My hands tremble so much, it feels like the cast on my right hand is going to slide off. I approach the love seat, take a deep breath, turn and lower myself to the cushions. Closing my eyes, I cringe as I fully expect to be wedged in so tight, Izzy will need a crane to lift me. The soft pillows beneath me are the only things I feel. I open my eyes, and look to the side. “There’s room.” I place my left hand down, and see a good three inches between my hand and side of the love seat. I whip my head around, and notice there’s another ten inches or so between Izzy and me. “I fit,” I say, surprised. What the...
“Now, as the lawyer who put that thought on trial, what can you tell that thought? What did its actions tell you?”
“It lied,” I say, still unbelieving.
“Until you can distinguish the lies from the truths, you have to slow your thoughts, and question them. Thoughts that hold no credit, you have to recognize them, and retire them.”
“This sounds easy.”
“It eventually will be, because for every one negative thought, the brain requires five positive thoughts to negate it.”
“Really?”
“Yep. And when all the brain is doing is giving you negative thoughts, the pathways of negativity strengthen, while the pathways of positivity weaken.”
Huh. “Just so I have this right. You’re telling me, the more I think I’m fat, and the more I think I look terrible, or I’m too fat, the stronger those thoughts get?”
Izzy smiles. “Yep,” she says with a nod. “But do you want to know the good news?”
“There’s good news? All of this seems fairly depressing.” I want to crumple to the floor, and forget all about this ridiculous idea of trying to fix my stupid eating habits. Tears threaten to fall, and I feel like I’m paralyzed with failure. Rubbing at my temples, I try and ease the ache thumping in my head.
Izzy taps her fingers on the laptop resting on her thighs. “We can retrain the brain. It’s hard, but we can do it.”
I clear my throat. “I want to believe you.”
“You ready for hard work?”
My body shivers, not because I’m cold, but because I’m nervous. “I think so.”
“Good.”
