.

I am in an upstairs lobby

Green and orange stripes assault my inner teenage eye

I am

Waiting for you

.

Shortly, two cheery faces call my name

And I am escorted, beyond public view

First stop, the value measurer

The digitally moderated assessor of accomplishment

Here, is the scale

.

“You look cozy”

Their bright mouths utter

And I know they mean that it’s time to disrobe

As I peel off my warm layers

Suddenly I am travelling through portals

Suddenly, as they tell me to turn my back to the number

I am not fifty

I am sixteen

.

I am back in that doctor’s office

His look of concern, boring a hole through

My steel plated armor

Shock reverberates my core

The result of having such a strong care aimed my way

It almost feels

Like a missile

.

He sits me down

And he tells my mother

Who at this point shows a strange

Nervousness I cannot place

He says

Something needs to be done

That I need to “eat more”

And he tells me to get a burger

And maybe some fries

And he laughs

And she laughs

And we leave the office, laughing

.

But I cannot forget

The feeling, his worry

It fills all the little pretend-I’m-fine cracks

Those that are beginning to falter

It is like warm honey

And I’ve never felt anything like this before

I want

More

I make the connection

That my fragility

Might just make him stay

Might just make him enter into

Those cracks and see how

I’m dying inside

.

I do not eat the burger

I do not eat the fries

I sit, across from my fasting mother

I push things around

And silently apologize

To the waiter who will have to find my stash

She reads the paper

She does not see me

And I pretend

And we leave the restaurant

Laughing

.

“Okay, it’s time to get your vitals”

The cheery voice breaks my time travels

And I’m putting on my coat

(one that may have had weights in it in the past)

And I’m walking down the hall

And we’re all

Laughing

.

Now I’m on my back

With a child-sized cuff squeezing

I hear the beep beep measuring

Yet another standard I’ll be judged by

I wonder how bad it’s gotten

And I wonder who I am

A sixteen year old in a fifty year old body?

Still moored in the times I cannot escape?

They’re talking about the weather

And then I’m standing

An arm at my elbow

“Any dizziness?”

I say no

I ask how the numbers look

(At least I can know this if I can’t know those magickal digits on the scale)

“Great! A little low, but good.”

And then one jovial mouth says

“Trying to get my blood pressure down!

Trying to lose some weight!

You know what I mean?”

And in that moment

I am fifty years old again

And glad I have much experience with the ways/weighs

Of the world

Glad I have some compassion

Glad I can control my big mouth

And not say what I’m thinking

Instead, my fifty year old

Having been through treatment many times

Having been a staff member helping those with eating disorders

That part of me says

“Yes, bodies are strange things.”

And I rise

And we walk down the hall

Laughing

.

Now I’m sitting in my car

My sixteen year old self

My fifty year old self

And we’re swirling

I cannot decide whether I am glad

That the nurses were not concerned

Or if I am disappointed

This weird desire

To get worse

To see that look in their eyes

It stirs, brews inside

My fifty year old

Comforts the young one, confused

I tell her that there’s no way to control this

And that the fates will decide

Whether the numbers will prove us

Worthy to have someone

Look through the cracks

Into what’s dying

Instead of all of this laughing

And waiting

And weighting

And pretending

Everything is just

Fine