As Fear Grows Please Hold Me In Your Arms

It took me quite some time to be able to even speak about this without crying myself to sleep. I don't know how to tell you but I have to. Darry made me promise. He said that if I didn't, he would. He oddly keeps these promises.

I've always pictured myself as some kind of Greek goddess to whom nothing could ever happen to. I mean the only time I've ever been in the hospital or heavely injured was the time those socs beat Johnny, Jell-O, and I, and I even turned out all right! I have drank my weight in alcohol and I haven't had liver problems, I have drag raced and gone over the speed limit at stupidly high velocities and never gotten into a car crash, I have done a lot of recklessly dangerous things and practically cheated dead a million times, and yet I still am in one piece.

That's why this was such a shock to me. No, not in the good sense.

It seemed like things where getting better. Darry and I thought he was successfully getting me into shape. But apparently luck doesn't like putting me into a pedestal the way I do. I was getting better athletically but my body wasn't. Every day it become more and more often that I would spend half my day puking whatever I had of my guts left. I kept it to myself, mostly because I thought it had to do with the lack of physical shape but also because with everything that had been going on, I didn't want anyone to worry about me. I didn't give it a lot of thought or importance. I thought it would eventualy pass. But Darry found out. It was hard to keep it from him. The other's just thought it was simple hangovers or something but he knew better. He caught me in the act. He was worried out of his mind and insisted on taking me to the hospital. I, of course, argued there was no need for it. I was sure it would pass. I talked him out of it and convinced him to lay off for a while. But each day it got worst and worst and he got really worried.

But then I moved out and he wasn't able to check up on me every moment of every day. So that's how the descovery begins. I knew that this wasn't normal nor was it healthy, but I really didn't want to be checked on so I ignored it. It seems like the man in my life can't lay off cause Two-Bit got worried too. Not that I blame him though, cause I'm the love of his life and all that but he said he was taking me to see Jelly's dad in the morning. I 'agreed' but I wasn't going to do it. I spend the whole night trying to figure out ways to get out of it. When I woke up, since I'm done with school for the semester, Two-Bit called me in sick at work so I would be able to take it easy and wait for him. He was off and I stayed home alone. That didn't last long. I went out for a walk, trying to come up with a valid excuse but nothing hit me. So I went home. Knowing that Two-Bit would be home soon I did the only thing I could think off. In a pathetic desperate attempt to set myself free of that appointment, I drank every single drop of alcohol in the house, and if you have ever come to our apartment, you know that the only thing that's missing to turn it into a bar is Buck. But that's about it. So stumbling around the house I locked myself in the bathroom with another three bottles of Tequila, or was it Rum? I don't remember. I thought I had it made, ya know. After seeing me like this, who would want to take me out? But before I could scream victory, I started to feel sick and not just normal hangover sick but the kind of sick feeling that worried Two-Bit and Darry. After a while, all I had a chance to hear was the desperate knocks on the bathroom door, and then I sank into a dreamless sleep.

When I woke up I had the worst kind of headache ever and I was chained to all of this cables that where measuring my heart rate and all. I was like what the fuck. Looking around I saw Darry sitting on a chair with his hands over his face. He looked hopeless. I cleared my throat and he turned to look at me. "Hey." He said softly. I half-smiled at him. "What happened? Where's Two-Bit?" I asked slighly confused. I tried to remember anything that had happened but my head was to delicate. Darry sighed and placed his palm over mine. "Well Kitty, you got intoxicated with alcohol. That happens when the amount of alcohol in your blood exceeds your tolerance for alcohol." "I know what it means Darry. I'm just surprised." I whispered. Darry sighed heavily again. "Kitty, we found you unconciouss on the bathroom floor. What where you trying to do?" He asked. I could've just lied to him. I could've deceive him or set him off. But the pleading in his eyes and the worry and fear his face showed made me tell him the truth. "I, uh, I was trying to avoid going to the doctor with Two-Bit." Darry just kept looking at me and when he didn't say anything, I continued. "For the same reasons you wanted me to see one." He nodded. "Yep, I figured." He said standing up towards and intercum. "Hey could we see Dr. Winston please?" He asked the female voice at the other end. I looked at him exasperated. "What?" I asked. But Darry didn't answer, he opened the door for Dr. Winston and he smiled at me as he walked in. My face showed clear annoyance and irritation. "I didn't agree to any of this." I said. "Well Kitty, honestly, it isn't up to you to decide. As long as you're still underage and Darry is your guardian, he gets to decide." I couldn't believe this. This couldn't be happening to me. I looked at Darry bitterly and pissed off. "I'm sorry Kitty, but we need to check up on you. What's been going on, it isn't normal." I refrained from saying something I knew I would regret later.

So Darry told Dr. Winston everything that had been going on with me. Listening to it from another perspective made me realize how bad it was. We then went through some unpleasent uncomfortable tests and after four hours, we got the results. We where waiting in a room for Dr. Winston to come back. When he did he had an expression that frightened me. You know, like the kind doctors portray when they have bad news. It didn't expect what he told us and couldn't quite believe it. I... It's difficult to say so bear with me. I... I have... Bulimia...Nervosa.

I froze as the words sank in. I was trying so hard for it to just be a fantasy. But it was very real. I was suffering from an eating disorder that I couldn't get rid off. I closed my eyes and clenched my hands into fists. I could feel hot tears forming in my eyes but I fought them back. Dr. Winston told us a little bit about the desease. It is characterized by a cycle of binge eating followed by purging to try and rid the body of unwanted calories. Supposedley, people who get this desease aren't secure with their own self worth. They strive for the approval of others and do whatever they can to please them. They find ways to get rid of the calories and that's when the self-imposed purge starts. This made me clinched my fists harder. I was not like that. I loved myself and I sure as hell didn't look for the approval of others. I liked the way I looked. I didn't urge myself to be thinner. To me I was perfect. Then why the hell me?! Tell me, why did it fucking have to happen to me?! He also talked about the symptoms and consequences but I didn't want to listen to any of it. I'm not going to repeat what he listed because it makes me so freaking depressed and angry.

Jelly's dad asked me if I had ever done any of the above or if I had ever stopped eating for any reason. I shook my head no but then I remember a few months ago. When I ran away and into the unknown. I told Dr. Winston what had happened that month I was away. How I was so depressed and so sad that food didn't seem appealing. Unlike other people before this condition, I don't eat when I'm depressed. I told him that the only thing I fed myself with was water and occationally really small amounts of food. He nodded and added that when the body stops digesting food for a certain period of time and then it comes to its contact again, the stomach rejects it through a chemical reaction, resulting in vomiting. He assumed that's what had been happening to me in the last weeks. I placed my hands over my face and cursed almost inaudibly through my breath. Darry and Dr. Winston kept silent. I guess they where giving me some time to take it all in. After a few minutes, the doctor continued. He told us that Bulimia was curable but that it could be deadly if we didn't treat it. I bit my lip. I pressed it so hard I could feel blood passing through my taste buds. That made me sick, but I fought the urge to puke. I didn't want to contribute to any of this. Dr. Winston also talked about treatment. He said that I needed to slowly change my eating habits. Eat healthier. Try to get rid of negative thoughts and continue with the egocentric attitude I have. Talk to people. Don't let feeling bottled up. He told Darry how he needed to deal with this. Him and the rest of my friends and family. I cringed at the words. This was gonna affect everyone and that didn't seem fair. I hated it. He recommended we come see him, a dietician, and a couselor. That sounded expensive. God can someone shoot me? I didn't want to be there any more.

When it all ended, and where alone on the hospital room, Darry's phone rang and he got up to answer it. I sank into the pillow trying to fight back tears. I watched Darry intently as he whispered into the phone and turned to look at me when he thought I wasn't looking. -.- Then he hung up and sat down next to me. He removed my hair from my face and smiled slightly. "Two-Bit's on his way." I sank deeper and bit my lip. "You gotta tell him." I looked at him surprised. "You didn't?" "No. I thought it would be better if you told him yourself." He said. I groaned and hide under the covers. "I can't." I said. Darry took off the sheets from my face and forced me to look at him. "Why not?" "Cause, it's embarrassing." "He's your friend. Hell, he's your fiance." I sighed and closed my eyes. "Exactly. How do you know how he's gonna react? He'll freak! I don't want him to suffer because of me. This changes everything!" "This changes nothing." He said interrumpting me. "Look Kit, if he really loves you, which he obviously does, he'll stand besides you no matter what. Yes, this is shitty but we can get through this." A tear fell down my cheek. "What about the rest?" "You have to tell them too." "Why me?!" I groaned. "Cause they're your friends. They love you and they deserve to know." But before I could answer, Two-Bit arrived at the room and smiled when he saw me. Darry stepped to the side as he leaned forward and kissed my cheek. "What's wrong?" He asked. I turned to look at Darry who simply nodded. Sure, it seems like the easiest thing for him to do. He doesn't actually have to do it. -.- Sigh. "Two-Bit," I said taking a deep breath. "There is something I have to tell you."

The ride home was silent. I felt like jumping out the window or something. Two-Bit carried me all the way to our room. I clenched tightly to his shirt, feeling his warm heart beating. There was no one home and if there was I didn't really notice. All I wanted to do was crawl up to me bed and sleep. Two-Bit layed me down on the bed and locked the door behind him. I layed there tiredly. The tears that I had held back so hard where starting to fall down my cheeks. I was feeling completely vulnerable. After a few seconds, Two-Bit crawled up next to me and gently caressed my shoulder. "There there KittyKat, everything's fine." He said. He lifted me up. As light as a straw and brittle as a bird. I weight less than a shadow on the wall. Just one more whisper of a voice unheard. Could he shake this anger? I needed his gentle hands to keep me calm. My cries where painful. "Where going to get over this." He whispered sweetly. "You'll see." I cringed my knuckles. "No." I said. "No. There is nothing wrong with me. There just can't be anything wrong with me." Yes, I was in denial. 'Cause KitKat Sarah Curtis couldn't have an eating disorder. It wasn't humanly possible. Two-Bit sighed and held me close. I sank my face into his shirt as he wrapped his arms around me protecting me. I'd never dreamed I'd feel a fire beneath my skin. I'd never thought I'd lose. I only thought I's would win. I hated this.

Anger had taken over my body. I wanted to hit something. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell life to fuck off. I closed my eyes. I wanted all of this to go away.