She Eats Alone

A Story by Ramona Hughes

A short piece about the horrors of Anorexia.

She eats alone...

Carol stood shivering and naked on the bathroom scale. Her eyes were fixed on the offensive numbers. They made her feel shameful. She had always considered herself to be fat. She could not remember a time when she felt comfortable in her own skin. She reached for the towel and wrapped it round her body, tucking it in tightly as she turned to look into the mirror.

The face she saw appeared bloated and red from the heat of the shower. She examined her pores, feeling that they were huge and obvious. She began her morning ritual of exfoliating, scrubbing and rinsing. She applied lotions and perfume, body spray and finally the makeup. She used a copious amount of foundation and outlined her eyes with a thick layer of black. Her face appeared masked and unnatural, but she liked the effect. Her thin blonde hair was already dry, and needed no attention.

Carol stepped from the bathroom and out into the little hallway that adjoined the bedrooms. Still clutching the towel to her chest, she hurried past her mother’s room and into her own. She opened her closet to select an outfit. ‘Nothing would look good’ she thought. With resignation, she chose a charcoal grey cowl necked sweater and some black tights. She liked to wear black. It was thinning. She slipped on her little black boots and took one last critical look in her full length mirror before turning to grab her purse.

She went back into the short hallway, and hesitated before the door to her mother’s room. There was something cold in that room, you could feel it. She put her hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly as she pushed it open. Immediately she was flooded with hateful memories. Nearly forgotten scenes rushed into her consciousness. She could still smell the cloying scent of bitter chocolates, lavender and mothballs. The drapes were drawn close and only a sliver of light shown through onto the perfectly made bed. Her mind snapped back to the present and she pulled the door shut with a resounding slam that startled her.

Her thoughts were chaos as she drove to her appointment. She recalled the strictures that her mother had imposed on her as a child. The meals were the worst. She could remember sitting before a bowl of oatmeal for a full eight hours one Saturday. Finally being excused to go to bed. Only to wake up the next morning to the same bowl of dried gruel.

She recalled the long hours of sitting alone at the table staring at the small cereal bowl. . . Knowing that the little picture of a cow jumping over the moon underneath the layer of dried porridge was mocking her. Why couldn't she just eat her breakfast like everyone else? She spent another full day in front of that damned bowl. Finally being excused with a cold look at precisely eight pm to go to her room. She knew that there would be a fresh bowl set out tomorrow.

When she did eat it was usually something sweet. She adored chocolate and would often gorge herself with it. She once found a heart shaped box of assorted bonbons that her mother had put away in a dresser drawer. She thought of just taking one. But soon found that she had eaten over half of the candies. With trepidation she took one more before closing the box and replacing it in the drawer. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and wiped her hands on her little dress. She went out to the kitchen to find her mother busy washing up. Without thinking she blurted out...I ate some candy! I took your candy and I ate it almost All Up! I was a naughty girl! I’m sorry. . she could remember well what happened next.

Her mother turned slowly, she looked sternly down at Carol with her hands dripping wet on her hips. She spoke in a soft voice, “Why would you do that? Why would you eat all that candy Carol? It isn’t good for you! It will make you fat and ugly! I have tried to teach you to eat healthy foods. Why wont you ever listen to Me?”

Her mother had grabbed Carol by the arm painfully dragging her out the back door and into the laundry room. She pushed the girl over the large soaking sink and proceeded to force her mouth open. Then she rammed her long finger down poor Carol’s throat. Immediately the child vomited. thick brown undigested chocolate came up with a violent surge, splattering over the plastic interior of the sink. Carol was crying and drooling as she again heaved into the laundry tub.

Without any sympathy Carol’s mother had pushed her daughter’s head under the running tap. The water was cold and forceful. The woman had forced the poor child’s mouth under the faucet allowing the water to gush in, almost drowning the girl.

Carol resolutely pushed the revolting thoughts from her mind as she drove along the tree lined streets toward the medical center. Eventually she arrived at the complex. It was a modern building with long narrow windows that were completely black. She noticed that there were two young men doing lawn maintenance around the walkways and parking lot.

She got out of her little hybrid and locked it by touching the key once. There was a responding honk from her horn to reassure her that the doors were all locked. She glanced at the young men wistfully. Men never noticed her. But why should they? She was a slob, hadn’t her mom told her that often enough?

Carol passed the robust caretakers with indifference. She rarely spoke to strangers any way. Why should this be any different. She pushed the glass doors of the lobby open and went inside the cool building. She could still hear the drone of the mower and weed eater making everything pretty and symmetrical. She imagined her body being pretty, and symmetrical. . . then remembered the truth. She was anything BUT pretty!

She ducked her head and followed the long corridor till she found her doctor’s suite number and went inside the waiting room. There were several others sitting around in the vinyl covered chairs. One woman was in a wheelchair and had an oxygen machine to help her breathe. She was morbidly obese. Carol worried that soon she might be just as large herself.

After signing in Carol sat as far from the woman with the oxygen tank as she could manage. She tried to blend into the furniture. She was uncomfortable in public. She had the feeling that others could see into her mind. She felt judged by people, even strangers.

She secluded herself facing away from the television and the other patients. She took out a little coupon catalog and looked through it avidly. She loved fast food. She flipped through the little book, savoring each picture. She felt her mouth water as she feasted her eyes on the delectable images of juicy hamburgers, crunchy cheesy tacos, golden brown french fries and rich creamy milkshakes.

Carol’s mind drifted back to the day she had collapsed at work. She saw bright little lights for a moment and then everything had gone black. She could vividly recall the gawking looks from her coworkers, as the ambulance attendants revived her and took her off to the hospital . She had been severely malnourished and was somewhat dehydrated as well. Her body had just given out that day. Thoughtfully she continued to peruse the coupon book until the nurse stepped out and called her name.

Carol tucked the book away and stood up. She moved self consciously across the floor, feeling as if every eye was on her. She obsessively smoothed her hair and tucked it behind her ears. She followed the nurse down the little corridor to a set of scales. Carol inwardly balked, but she obediently removed her boots and stood in stocking feet on the platform. The nurse mechanically recorded her weight at 97.5 lbs. She smiled warmly at carol and told her she could use the chair next to the scale to put her boots back on.

The pretty young nurse led Carol past several little rooms, till they came to an open door. She held the door open wider and they both went in. Carol submitted to having her vitals taken, robotically answering the innocuous questions of the nurse, who jotted busily onto a chart. Once this ritual was over, the nurse stuffed her stethoscope into the pocket of her scrubs. She informed Carol that the doctor would be in shortly Carol waited apprehensively to meet this new doctor. She had only been in treatment for three weeks. Previously she had only seen the psychologist, and been to a couple of support groups.

This guy was a medical doctor. He would have something to say about her diet. He would make judgements about her body. He would look at her. It was hard for Carol not to think of all these things. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes. She felt her fingers fumbling through her purse to find the coupon book. She withdrew it and began folding it in half and then rolling it up tight like a little scroll, tighter and tighter till it was almost as long thin as a chop stick.

She jumped as a tap on the door startled her out of her small panic attack, she dropped her chop stick talisman back into the confines of her little pocketbook. The door of the room opened slowly and the doctor stepped into the already claustrophobic space. He was not really what she had expected. His face was pock marked and he was rather tall and heavy. His medical coat was rumpled, and he wore bifocals and scuffed sneakers. Carol was unimpressed, yet intimidated too. He held a folder in his hand as he smiled down at her. He had crooked front teeth that reminded her of a rat.

She looked up and tried to keep a calm look on her face. “Hello Dr. Klouse. It’s nice to meet you.” He grinned even wider as he extended a large paddle shaped hand to greet her. They shook briefly, barely touching fingers, but Carol let the sleeves of her big sweater cover both of her hands afterward.

The doctor took a seat on a little rolling stool nearby. He rolled up closer to her and opened the file. He pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose and peered at the paperwork inside. Bluntly, he read aloud, “ Severe Anorexia Nervosa. Recently hospitalized for malnourishment and dehydration?” He continued reading silently, his lips moving almost imperceptibly. Carol watched with a ridged expression as her panic began to rise again.

He eventually looked up from the folder and met Carol’s wide eyes. He smiled more sympathetically and tilted his head. “Carol, today I just want to talk to you about your disease. I want to let you know that it is going to be alright. You may not believe me today, but I assure you if you can learn some new coping techniques you will gain a lot of control over your emotions and be a much healthier young woman!”

She just sat there, staring at him with the startled eyes of a doe in a spotlight. She held her purse between her covered hands, as if it was an anchor. Her voice sounded unfamiliar to her as she spoke, “I, uh...I hope so Dr. Klouse. I realize things could be better. I am just not sure that this Anorexia thing is right. I am not skinny! I’m normal weight for my bone structure. I have some quirks about food, yeah...But I don’t think its an eating disorder. Could it be my thyroid? Maybe that’s it. I went to a few of those meetings, and I just don’t relate. It isnt about food with me really.”

She realized she was running off at the mouth and should just be quiet, but the need to defend herself here was overwhelming. She continued to whine, “ Anyway, I have been paying close attention to my weight, and diet lately. Since the hospital I realize I can’t go to work without breakfast again!” She ventured a small chuckle trying to make light of the situation that had shed light on her ‘problem’.

The doctor merely nodded and smiled as she finally finished with her diatribe. He spoke gently and with assertion, “ Understood Carol. I know this is hard for you to see right now. Lets talk about your diet and exercise for a moment, yes? Tell me more about how you have been ‘paying close attention’ since the hospital. Are you following the plan your dietitian gave you then? Tell me what you had for breakfast this morning.”

Carol was stumped. She had eaten nothing this morning. Her mind struggled with a lie. “ I had half a cup of cereal with milk, WHOLE milk, toast with peanut butter and a banana.” Her eyes darted from side to side as Dr Klouse simply stared at her. He was nodding. Did he believe her?

“What kind of cereal?” he asked out of nowhere.

She faltered, “ What? Oh! It was...Oh .. It was Oatmeal! I put milk on it to cool it off!”

Carol felt her face heat up with the force of her guilty answer. She licked her lips and tried to keep her eyes on the doctor’s face. It was no use, he knew. She looked down at the floor. Her feet were tucked under the chair at an uncomfortable angle. She raised her head and looked at Dr. Klouse, “ I forgot to eat breakfast, doctor. I lied.”

He nodded...They continued to discuss diet, exercise and healthy body weight. Carol let most of the conversation wash over her like so much water. She was starting to think about food again. She was starting to worry about lunch. She could not listen to this much longer. As the doctor finally finished speaking, she nodded obediently and shifted in the uncomfortable chair. He looked at her earnestly, searching her eyes as he said good bye. She stood and clutched her purse against her chest as she left the little room.

Outside again, Carol noticed the two young caretakers relaxing on the freshly mown grass near the building in a shaded spot. They seemed to be having a little break.They were eating candy and having a cold drink. She hurried to her car, unlocking it with her key fob from across the parking lot. Once inside she blasted the air conditioner and backed out of her space abruptly.

The drive home was horrible. She cried and pounded the steering wheel. She grit her teeth hard against one another and caused herself a terrible headache. By the time she arrived back at her house, she was nearly exhausted. Her stomach was in knots, as she unlocked her door with shaking fingers and ducked inside.

Carol collapsed against the wall in the foyer. Squatting there for a moment, she held her head in her hands as she tried to compose herself. She willed her mind to be calm, as she got to her feet and made her way to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator, to reveal some bottled water, a bowl of sliced cantaloup that had mold on it and some fat free cheese slices. Otherwise it was perfectly clean and empty. She took out a bottle of water and a slice of cheese.

Carefully she placed the cheese on a pretty little plate. She cut it with a sharp knife into first four, then eight little squares...perfectly divided. She turned to the table and sat down with her meal. She took her time. One piece of cheese from each corner, chewing each tiny square at least thirty times, before washing it down with the cold water. After about forty minutes the square of cheese had become the shape of a plus sign. She then put a piece of cellophane over the plate and saved it in the fridge. She wanted dessert.

She carefully washed her hands and dried them on a paper towel. She took the bottle of water and went towards the bedroom hallway. She found her mother’s door and stood outside it for a moment. Her eyes were stinging with tears again, but she turned the door knob and slipped into the dim room. She went to the tall dresser and opened the top drawer. Inside there was a red heart shaped box. Carol removed it with an unconscious air of reverence. The box was decorated with a satin ribbon that seemed to hold it closed, but she easily lifted the ornate lid to see the rich chocolates that it held. She backed up slowly to sit on the edge of her mother’s brocade covered bed, where she sat down and began to eat.

She chewed each candy slowly. . savoring the sweet taste and texture of it. She rolled her eyes with pleasure as she enjoyed the luxury of tasting such decadence. Once she had chewed sufficiently, she leaned her head over the pretty box and carefully spat the remains of the candy back into it’s little brown paper cup.

Then she delicately removed another, and another, and another. . .till the box was finished.