Alisha’s Click

I recently met Alisha through a fellow blogger.  I am really grateful for the connection as she is a really talented and intriguing person.  We have some things in common including our love of and desire to write, as well as seeking to delve into the mysteries of life and perhaps find our own answers.  You can visit her lovely blog here and follow her on Twitter here.  In the meantime, please take the time to read her moving click.

Even after five long years, Kelly’s face still haunts me.  I remember very clearly the afternoon she was admitted to the 7th Floor.  Her room was right across from the nurse’s station.  I don’t know where I was coming from (yoga maybe?), but I peaked in on my way back to the group room.  Her thin legs were folded underneath her, the juxtaposition of her paper-thin torso and boney knees looked uncomfortable.  She had porcelain skin and short, wavy blonde hair that framed her icy blue eyes.  And in those eyes were big fat tears.

Kelly and I didn’t talk very much.  We had one of those relationships where a meeting of the eyes was also a meeting of the minds.  In some ways I looked up to her:  she was married and had two small children; she was a successful business woman; intelligent and extremely beautiful (even in that fragile state).  To me, she was exactly what I wanted to be at thirty-something.  Except…except for that one thing that brought her to the 7th Floor.

You see, until you’re there-until your mind, body, and soul are owned by your eating disorder-you never really understand it.  The bitterness, the sadness, the anger…  That Devil sits on your shoulder spitting lies into your ear until it bleeds.  And Kelly?  Her shoulder was crimson-stained.  Watching this beautiful, intelligent wife and mother slowly kill herself made me so sad.  In that room I shared her pain, but I did not want to share her future.

Another month passed and it was my turn to leave.  I got my coin, we said the Serenity Prayer, and I bid farewell to the 7th Floor.  The cool, crisp Autumn air blew through my hair and I felt free.

I think of Kelly often.  I hope that some how, some way, she knows how strongly she affected me.  Through her trials, I found my strength.