Her happy hopeful smile has gone. The tears are back. I feel as if anorexia is mocking and smirking. Did I think it was going to be ok? Did I really think a happy few hours writing menu cards would defeat something so powerful, so destructive. Most defeated of all is L. She lies weeping, not heaving sobs, but slow tears, she has no energy for sobbing or wailing. We eat a meal from her menu card. She picks at it, scrutinises each morsel. I don’t know what’s in it, she whispers, you might have put something in it. At times like this, she is a stranger, L is in there somewhere, but possessed by her ED demon. It speaks for her, it tells her she can only trust the disorder, that it is her friend, her only friend.
K is distressed and tries to help. She asks L if she is scared and why. She doesn’t understand but wants to so very much. Eventually L finishes her meal. I hug her and tell her well done, but it feels as if L is no longer there. For the first time, I think that one day, we might lose her.