Diary of a Fat Girl: A Novel in the Making (Continued)

Entry Two

It’s about 7:30 a.m. If I was at home, I would still be sleeping. They get us up so early here. I’m waiting for my roommate to wake up so we can go to breakfast. She’s a weird one, my roommate. She doesn’t talk much. I know she came here before me. Her name is Anna, I think. She’s really pretty. She has blonde hair, bright blue eyes, but I have noticed something about her eyes. There isn’t any life in them, like someone took it away from her.

            Every time I look at the clock, I think so much time has past, but it hasn’t. Anna is still sleeping. It’s not like I am in a hurry though, I mean I wish I didn’t have to eat. Anna always has these night terrors. She talks in her sleep too. She always talks about someone named Luke; tells him to stop, and then she starts to cry.

            This whole journal thing is kind of growing on me. I mean I can talk to someone without speaking. I don’t know. The rock of a roommate is awake! Breakfast….woo hoo.

Entry Three

            Everyone thinks hospital food is terrible, they have never eaten here. At 3 East I swear the cook is a culinary genius! I know what you’re thinking, “Wait she doesn’t like to eat…” you’re right. I don’t like to eat, but I love the way food tastes, and the different flavors. Before I came here, my favorite thing on holidays was my grandma’s ‘Snicker Salad’! I haven’t had it for two years. That’s when I stopped eating.

            I have my personal therapy today. My therapist is trying to figure out what made me, well you know. I haven’t told him… I don’t know if I will. There is a reason I did; it just wasn’t because I wanted to. The kind of person I am now, no one wants to be. I don’t want to be me.

Entry Four

My therapist is a guy. He’s kind of older, maybe 50. I told him. I told him why I did it, why I made myself who I am now. Max Walter. That’s the reason. You see, Max is a guy from school. He is tall, plays baseball, football, and runs track. He isn’t bad looking and he has a great personality. Now I didn’t used to be very skinny, I was actually quite plump. One of Max’s friends told me that Max thought I was fat and felt sorry for me…and that was the only reason he talked to me. I really liked him and wanted him to like me. So my solution was to stop eating. I thought, maybe if I was skinny he would think that I was pretty and like me for me instead of feeling sorry for me. I lost a ton of weight over the summer before eighth grade. He started talking to me when I came back to school and so did a lot of other guys. I thought ‘Hey this is working.’ Everyone thought the weight loss was from training, but it wasn’t.

I didn’t want to keep rejecting meals, and working out extra, but I had to. It was the only way people noticed me. Everyone likes to be noticed, no matter what they say. It gives you the feeling of accomplishment. So everyday casually in 4^th hour, I would sneak away to the bathroom holding in my pocket 2 mints, a piece of gum, and an empty bottle. I would ask the teacher if I could go fill up the bottle with some water.

Diary of A Fat Girl: A Novel in the Making

Entry One

            Stupid journal. I don’t know how this is supposed to help? I might as well just do it because if I don’t…I’ll never get out of here. I’ll start with the basics. They call us the “3 East Kids’. I have been here for almost a month at Mercy West. They say the only way you get here is by hitting rock bottom. Well, I can tell you one thing, some of these kids are past “rock bottom”. My name is Sara Lawrence, well that is what the hospital bracelet says, but lately I don’t really know who I am. I don’t know how much longer I will be here, but right now 3 East is almost better than home.

            3 East, at Mercy West, is the best Adolescent Psychiatric unit in the state of Connecticut. Basically it is the best place for teenage psychos. Here at Mercy West only 20 teens are allowed on the 3 East floor. I was number 15. It seems like everyday one kid goes and another one is admitted. Mostly though, we all live the same routine.

            We are required to go to all three meals, group discussion, our personal therapy sessions, and the activity of the day. My past month has been filled with a lot of thinking and a lot of reading. I get to have a home visit every two weeks, but when I’m at home I might as well be back at 3 East. Sometimes home isn’t so sweet.

            At home everyone is different. I don’t get treated the same, and everyone is just weird. It’s like I am literally the elephant in the room. I can’t imagine the amount of talk there is about Dad. Oh well, he deserves it.

            You see, Dad is a teacher at school, and he is also the football coach. I have an older brother, and two older sisters. All graduated and all very athletic. That leaves me, the baby to follow in their deep footsteps. I have been running to and from sports, and playing them for as long as I can remember. It makes my dad happy and he noticed me, but then, I got good. Doing what I loved wasn’t a hobby anymore…it became work. My hobby became something I dreaded.

            Before all of the sports started, I used to sing. I have a good voice too! Could’ve gone somewhere with it, but when you have a “job” the things you love to do get pushed aside. Everything…gone. People expect more out of you. They treat you differently. No one likes it, but the truth hurts.

            So, I guess you’re wondering why I’m in here. Cooped up like a chicken, in the loony bin. Well, I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but I am supposed to vent to this stupid journal so I will. I starved myself, and on top of that I made myself throw up what little I had in me. My rock bottom? Threatening to down a bottle of weight loss pills if I couldn’t go to a movie with my friends. Scary part? I was going to do it. I didn’t care…I would have been skinny.

            Sometimes I wish I would have gone through with it. I wish for a lot of things though. My wishes never seem to come true.