“Sit here. Do not move speak only if you need to. The doctors will be with you soon challenged child; don’t try to do anything funny.” The giant security guard said then turned around and started fumbling around with a big bag of chips as if she needed them.
I took a seat in the corner away from all the others like I always did, didn’t want anyone to get too close they might catch my disease...or at least thats how people acted. I am pretty sure you cannot catch perfectionism sure you can try, but to fully contract this “illness” you must begin to hate everything about yourself. Then realize everything you have ever said, done, or thought is wrong from there on the “illness” slowly begins to take over everything in your dim lit life. The doctors feed you bullshit lies saying maybe just maybe if you try hard enough you will get better. Do they also believe if I sprinkle fairy dust on myself I’ll be able to fly to Neverland? Once you suffer from the disease you are stuck with it forever. I am told about the few people who go on and overcome this “illness”, and have very successful lives, yet the plethora of us will die trying to please it. They try soothing me saying how every case is different, as if that makes any difference at all. Me, Ame suffer from two mental “illnesses” anorexia nervosa and perfectionism I don’t understand why they label me it doesn’t change anything. The thoughts are still there, I still think the same god damn things. I need to lose the pounds, shed the weight, drop a size; happiness will not reign through my body until every bone juts out. I will let this “illness” consume me until you can see all 206 bones hidden under a translucent layer of skin. I cannot stop until the skin is flawless, until this pale child is the beautiful masterpiece the artist wanted.
My body is the puppet and she is the master. “Look how fat you let yourself get it is horrific.” She says these things as she slithers through my mind creating crazy chaotic marks as she moves through the open space in my brain. She is giving me a message letting me know she is in charge, she is the boss, she won and I have lost all control.
“Ame the doctor would like to see you now.” A small little nurse walked out and ushered me into the office.
“Hello sweetheart take a seat.” The ugly doctor said in a nonchalant tone, she must not know who I am for many others have failed at the job she is about to take on. I am difficult, stubborn, but most of all I always fail when it comes to getting over these “illnesses” because I do not want to get better.
I roll my eyes. I’m tempted to inform her that my name is Ame not sweetheart, but I am sure that information is stamped on at least 30 pieces of paper in my overflowing file. She nods at the table draped with a paper, as if to tell me to sit down. No i will not sit standing burns about fifty percent more calories than sitting does there is no need to keep extra calories on.
“Idiot pacing burns even more calories. Why aren’t you pacing? Those grapes you ate this morning weighing you down? Can’t you do anything right?” She is louder today, and I know it’s because i was weak today and ate something. I mean yes it was small , but no matter how small it was I could have had less as long as I keep eating I am failing.
I feel my feet begin to shuffle one foot in front of the other, but then the doctors eyes are on me I know she will record this, so i stop and reluctantly take a seat . Once i am seated I realize how cold it actually is in here so i can at least burn some calories by shaking.
“Don’t make it obvious though she will turn the heat up if she notices.” I know she is right and for once I am glad to hear her sinister voice.

I sit in the office facing an ugly, flat face doctor waiting for her to make her decision. She is going to decide the next course of action. I know if i play her good I can get out of here just having to follow a basic eating log my parents will try to enforce. Of course at first I will go along let them think I am consuming all three meals, but after they stop focusing on me so much I will stop eating the food. They won’t notice they never do, well not until I’m almost dead at least. No my parents are not bad parents who do not notice anything, but when you are starving yourself you can almost, almost function normally, so tricking people into believing you are fine is really not that hard. Also to answer the question you are probably asking yourself no I do not want to kill myself, but if I have to die to quiet her than I will die. Simple as that. You may think I am crazy, but I’m not what I am going through you will never understand unless you catch the “illness”.

“Ame do you know why you are here?”

“Let me guess it has something to do with the car crash?”

“Well yes, but we also need to talk about your weight. It is a problem.”

I must bite my tongue to stop myself from saying I obviously know it is a problem I am trying to fix it. I do not want to be sent back to a hospital where I am forced to eat all three meals a day, with the meals growing bigger everyday and my stomach getting fatter along with it. No I will not go back to a place where my exercising is restricted and I am watched carefully to make sure I am not pushing myself too hard. I know I have to be sweet, and pretend I really want to get better. “I know it is. I have lost all control, I don’t know what I am doing anymore. I really need help and the support of my family to get over this.” I lower my head as if in shame, and its not all a lie I am ashamed of myself ashamed that I was stupid enough to get caught, yet again.

“Is that so Ame? So you think staying home is the best thing for you now? Is that what you are trying to say?”

“Well yes that is what I am saying. I feel like if I get taken away from my family at a time like this, the “illnesses” will only get worse.”

“Good to know your opinion on the matter. Anyways I see you were just recently released from the emergency room. Exactly what happened Ame?”

I hate these questions I have to tell the truth otherwise I could get a whole lot of other people in trouble...people who didn’t do anything and do not deserve to be in trouble. “Well you see I hadn’t ate in a few days, and I knew I probably shouldn’t have been driving, but my dad was running late, and someone needed to pick up Charlie from the nursery. I decided I would be fine it was only a couple of roads over, so i hopped in and started driving, I remember feeling drowsy as a light turned green, and the sound of glass. When I woke up i had needles in me feeding me and some stitches in my forehead and arm.”

“See you saying that makes me believe maybe you need to go back to the hospital if you are willing to so easily put yourself in harms way then maybe hospitalisation will be good for you.”

“No it won’t I swear if you give me one more chance I will not disappoint you I promise I’ll be better please.” I knew I was trying to calm the voice in my head as she continued to taunt me, but for all the doctor knew I was trying to convince her.

“Ame I am going to let you in on a little secret when I was younger I suffered from two mental illnesses to, perfectionism and anorexia nervosa. I remember how desperately I wanted to lose the weight, and please everyone. I was just like you Ame.”

“No you were not just like me every case is different doctors tell me that all the time. I really do want to get better this time you of all people should believe me when i say that.”

“Good job. Try and get her to believe you and listen to you. You have her right where we need her. You’ll walk out of here with a little eating log, maybe some meetings with a counselor but that is it.” Her tone is becoming lighter and she is backing off, I can now hear my own thoughts over hers. I am glad that for once I am actually making her happy.

“Oh Ame you are right I should believe you, but I don’t you are going to a hospital tomorrow see you then. Goodbye sweetheart.”