Page 26 of In For a Penny
He shakes his head with eyes closed. “You look like you’re embarrassed about it or something. And you shouldn’t be.” He smiles sympathetically. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s unfortunately very common. And it happens. It’s not nice, but it happens. It’s a disease, just like any other. You can’t help it, but it looks like you’ve committed to getting better, and that’s a big deal.”
“It has been,” I say, a bit in a trance.
“Listen, it’s clear you don’t like to be babied, and I know you’re strong and all of that. But if you ever need to talk, you know I’m here, right? I can’t pretend to understand one hundred percent what you’re going through, but I’m a pretty good listener.” He nudges me in the side with his elbow. “Anything you need.”
I chuckle, a weird feeling building in my stomach. The wordbulimiais never said out loud, but, as per usual, Josh needs little explanation in order to gain understanding of the situation.
“Can I ask you for a favor?” I smile.
“Anything,” he says seriously, turning to face me head-on.
“Can you make me some ginger tea?” I ask in a small voice. It will help with the nerves-induced nausea that I suddenly seem to be experiencing.
Josh gets up quickly from the couch. “Of course. I’ll bring it right out,” he says and heads into the kitchen, leaving me alone in the living room.
I sit and stare absentmindedly out the window. It’s dark and quiet outside, the street empty of cars and passersby. I put my head in my hands and take a deep breath. The last thing I want is a relapse. But I can feel the monster breathing down my neck, wanting to take over, wanting to take control.
To give me control.
I remind myself that I’m living a different life now, though, and I don’t need the monster on my back. I never did, of course, but least of all now. I’m away from the judgmental eyes of my past life. I am free and clear of any passive-aggressive remarks of my weight or what I look like. I can be and do whatever I want for the first time in my life.
I can find control in other ways now. Healthier ways. I think. I’m not the most easygoing person in the world, I know, but I’m better than who I was before.
I hear Josh open and close the cupboards in the kitchen, pulling out a mug, I assume.
Josh.
Such a sweet guy—the only other American in the program besides that weird guy in the Air Force that we all think is secretly a spy.
I’m so glad I met Josh. He’s so easy and friendly and nice. I’ve known him for such a short amount of time, but it doesn’t seem so little when you spend most of your days with someone. He’s so easy to talk to.
But although that’s always great to have in a friend, the“easy to talk to”thing doesn’t always suit me. The more he knows about me, the more power I feel he—or anyone, for that matter—has over me, and I’m no fan of that. It’s all part of the control thing.
I like regulating who knows what about me. I’m often known as an oversharer, but no one has ever thought that I overshare certain things to cover for the fact that I hide more than I reveal. Only one person has ever called me out on it, and that’s my brother. I asked him once, as a joke, if he’d like me if we weren’t siblings, and he said he couldn’t answer that question because he wasn’t sure which Penny I would show him.
That answer felt like a punch to the face.
But things are different now. I’m trying to make a conscious effort to explore who I am and not hide it from people here. There is an obvious relief in not having to constantly be on guard.
“Here.” Josh walks back into the living room, holding two mugs with steaming hot ginger. “I added some lemon I found in your fridge, by the way. I hope that’s okay.”
Still, hiding and controlling what people can and cannot know about me has always been comforting, so revealing this piece of information to Josh feels big.
I smile at him. “Don’t tell anyone.” Josh knows I’m not talking about the lemon.
“Never.” He blows on his tea.
Coming here is beginning to feel like the dividing line of my life:Before LondonandAfter London.Pretend PennyandReal Penny.
