Anorexia takes my hand...

7am on a Sunday and my Mom is calling.
Your heart pauses, you forget to breathe.

When everything you know 

Is falling apart in one phone call.

Uncle Gary, Cousin Evan have been killed.

They're gone.

Your Dad is a mess. 

I don't cry until later.

I don't wake up Darren as he sleeps soundly beside me.

I wander to the kitchen and I stare at the counter.

Dear God, why all this pain?

Poor Linda...the children...the trauma they endured. 

How are they meant to find the strength,

The courage, to carry on?

Later I call my Dad, his voice cracks, he sobs into the phone. 

And my heart breaks.

Hearing my Father weep...

I need to be home.

I cry and I cry.

I cry for the shattered pieces of this family.

I pinch the fat on my arm as the airplane descends. 

I am pathetic.  

I am selfish.

The viewing.  

It feels like we are observers of a tragedy that can't possibly be ours.

I think I see Gary laughing and entering the room for a moment,

And then I remember the coffins.

I remember the empty eyes, makeup faces, like wax figures of once vibrant beings. 

My Dad runs to the bathroom and I hear his wails.

I want to go in and comfort him.

Take the pain away.

Linda stands stoically with her children.

My grandma openly mourns another loss.

My brother places his head against the pew,

My mom cries quietly. 

So much pain.

So much heartache.

No one knows quite what to do with the emptiness.

We do shots after the viewing in their honour.

Stories are shared. 

Even in death, my uncle brings laughter. 

So much life in these two people

Who are now....gone.

The funeral service.

The brave children say goodbye.

I can't stop my tears.
So selfish.
Look at me, crying and sniffling.
I'm not the one who should have to be comforted. 
Secretly I pray that my mother will come to me, wrap her arms around me.
Like I'm still her little girl.
But my mother copes by fussing, organizing,
Making sure things are in order.
This is her way to numb.
I run to the toilet and throw up,
Stare at my gray reflection in the mirror,
Inspect my stomach and pinch my thighs. 

I book my flight. 
I manage to mess it up. 

I sob and I sob

And I drag my suitcase down the street

Until a taxi takes me to my grandmother's place.
I haven't been here since I was a little girl for sleepovers.
Her eyes are sad, but she welcomes me in.

We drink wine and it warms me up slowly.

I'm happy in this moment that I have this time with her tonight. 

We comfort each other with few words and several tears.

The grief is so real.

It's raw like people often describe it.

I sob and I sob at the smallest things. 

Darren is late to pick me up at the airport.

I sob and I sob.

Life has been changed.

I sob and I sob.

Anorexia joins in.

Anorexia helps me stop the tears 

When they overwhelm my heart.

I can't stop crying.

I starve some more.

I find myself at the peak of loneliness.

I purge some more. 

I am selfish.

I did not lose my dad.  

I did not lose my brother.

Why am I so inconsolable.

Anorexia takes my hand.

I will cope.

I will numb.

I will stop this melodramatic hysteria.

Get it together.

Go to work.

Lose some weight.

Buy some fat burners.

Food is making me feel nauseous now.