I wasn't expecting anyone to show up that day, I knew they were going to be in town for a few weeks - but had no clue they planned on visiting.
I was eating some goop for breakfast and Mike was tempting Keith (the over-eater) with his barely eaten dish when my father walked over. The scraping of the chair legs on the floor next to me startled me, and I looked up to see him sitting next to me.
"Hey Tay..."
I looked at him and yearned to know what he was feeling. Was he disappointed? Sad? Angry? He expressed none of these emotions all weekend - and he acted as if he didn't even want to acknowledge it. "Hey Dad." I responded, searching his face.
"Whatcha eating?"
I picked up a spoonful of goop and let it fall back on the plate, "I don't know - but I figured if I mixed it all together it wouldn't be as threatening."
He laughed a little, "Good policy."
"So... Why are you here?" I asked, eventually.
"We're coming to Family Therapy and I just wanted to drop by and say hello while everyone gets a tour of the place."
"Oh, okay. You're all here?"
"Yeah, and Alexis."
"Oh my god..." I began blushing when I saw them approaching, "There's more people in my family than there are in my entire ward."
"Taaaayyloooorrr!" My sisters and brothers came rushing to my side and pulled me up out of my chair.
"Hey guys... did you have your wheaties this morning?"
My little brother was hyper and giggling like crazy... I attempted to pick him up, but failed, "God, Mack... you've gotten so big!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Yeah-huh... I can't lift you up and carry you around anymore."
"I bet you couldn't catch me if I ran..."
"I bet I could."
He stuck out his tongue, and I laughed.
"Eat your breakfast, Hanson..." The Stripe said - cutting through the crowd, "You'll get solid food for lunch."
I sighed and whined, and sat down in front of my half eaten plate. I pouted, "Come on... my whole family's here, man..."
He smirked, "Introductions would be nice, you know. I'm only with you 12 hours a day."
I turned to my chattering crowd. "Everyone... everyone..." I tried to call them weakly, "You guys!"
Most everyone stopped and looked at me... including other people minding their own business - but then again, I thought, who could ignore us? "Everyone... this is The Stripe. He's my supervisor and is with me most of the day. Stripe - this is My Mom, Alexis, my Dad, Isaac, Jessica, Avery, Mackenzie, and Zoë."
There was a flurry of "Nice to meet yous" and everyone began talking again. I shoveled the semi-liquid goo on my plate into my mouth, and finished quickly. In the distraction Mike managed to shovel half of his plate onto Keith's, and finished somewhere around the same time I did. Everyone followed The Stripe, Mike (who I introduced to them) and I out of the cafeteria to the offices. The Stripe escorted Mike to a classroom where he had to take classes for school. Usually during the hour Mike had class (since we both had to be with The Stripe) I would smoke in the back and read books. I didn't have to attend class, because I was technically graduated from highschool. Today, he escorted my family and I to the family therapy room... which was where he left me with my faceless friend.
"Hello I am Doctor Hasslehoff, Taylor's psychiatrist... nice to meet you all... sit down."
We all sat... on couches... and extra fold out chairs.
"The purpose of this meeting... is not to change you - or make you say things you don't want to say and pry... but to sort of gives you a heads up - and help you cope and accept - as well as express your own feelings and confusions. I've been working with Taylor here for a few months now... and I'll tell you right now that I know how important it is to him that you're here right now. I've never had a patient talk so fondly of his family, honestly. With that in mind - I guess we can jump right in. I know you all know each other... but for my purposes could you just go around the circle and tell me your names?"
"Jess." "Isaac." "Alexis." "Diana." "Walker." "Zoë." "Avery." "Mackenzie."
His face faded into an expression of bewilderment, and he laughed slightly, "I'll never remember all of that... So... Bear with me.
"As you know, Taylor has been here for a couple of months now dealing with inner conflicts. I understand a member of your family died a few months back, and Taylor's girlfriend committed suicide recently... which basically sent whatever already overwhelmed feelings he had into chaos. You probably didn't know... but he stopped eating when his brother died. According to him, Isaac... you knew - and tried to force feed him." Isaac nodded his head, slowly. "He hadn't eaten for almost three weeks right before he arrived here - sixty pounds underweight... almost to the point of fatality.
"He suffers and is being medicated for his depression - and accompanied anorexia. We attribute most of his problems to Post Traumatic Stress. Currently he's doing dramatically better, and we've been working through his episodes and eating disorder in therapy.
"That's the head's up part."
I, however, kept my head down. I could hear my mom sobbing... that was reason enough not to look up. Not to see. I scanned my eyes over the scar on my arm. I reached up to grab my hair, and almost screamed when I realized I had none... but fortunately for myself, mostly, I didn't scream... I didn't make any noise at all.
No noise at all - except for that scream.
It was more like a choked yelp or whimper, actually. Everyone was startled in their seats, and I sat up straight, as if I, myself were startled by another's yell. Everyone stared. I felt vulnerable and embarrassed, and I wanted to die. So feeble. I crossed my arms across my chest and tears slid out - creating streams on my cheeks. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to cry."
My mother was sobbing and blubbering, and she couldn't stop. She was trying to say words, but she kept crying. My dad took hold of her, protectively.
"Mom, please talk to me... Please... I don't want you to cry."
"Talk..." My doctor directed, "Express your thoughts, if you have any... Please."
"Taylor..." She finally spoke up, "You know I love you. Why didn't I ever know? Why couldn't I stop this before it happened? That's all I want to know... If I were better... I'd still have my Zac... you wouldn't be suffering... Why is everyone suffering?"
"Mom... no." I shook my head, and noticed Jessica quickly coming to tears. "No... you can't think like that. You are too important to think that any of this is your fault... none of this is anyone's fault. The reason you all are even here today is my own fault."
"Tay, it's not your fault." Ike said.
"Yes it is! I'm the one who starved myself for six months... I could have stopped."
"I didn't look after you, Tay... I didn't tell anyone, because you didn't want me to... I had bad judgment."
"It's not your job... you brought me here before I killed myself. That wasn't your job either."
"I did it because I love you! It shouldn't have to be my job!" His eyes were getting glassy. I wondered if it was always like this in Family Therapy sessions, "I was just scared, Taylor! I didn't know what to do... I didn't have the best judgment... I was... am... so... so caught up in everything, I'm overwhelmed I didn't know what to do! You could have died... and I would have never gone on to be anything... And to see you standing in front of me with a smaller waistline than... than... Avery... I mean... You... mean so much to all of us. I haven't told you that enough."
I suddenly felt more vulnerable than I had before. For some reason knowing they cared for me - well... hearing Isaac say he cared for me... and that I meant something. It... it made me feel bad... and horrible. I was in control of my life - and they cared for me. I was letting something they cared for die right before their eyes.
"It's my fault. It's my fault. I'm so sorry." I never felt so overwhelmed with guilt. "I'm so guilty. I'm killing myself at your expense. How can you not call that selfish?"
"It is selfish." Isaac admitted.
"Then... then stop pitying me... because you know everything is my fault. I starved myself, it was my fault - I did it to myself."
Jessica piped up, "Aren't we supposed to be here to help cope? I mean... isn't that the point - rather than point fingers?"
I shrugged, and sank in my chair. "I'm scared."
In the silence, the eyes of my family members told me that they were scared, too.
I swallowed hard, and vowed not to be scared anymore. This was who I am - and I was getting better. They should have a right to know the truth. I pulled a photograph out of my pocket and said, "There's something I'd like to show you."
I stood in front of my parents with it against my chest. "This may not be the right time, and Dad will never look at me again." I said. I gave my Mom the picture with shaking hands. I didn't want her to see... but in my mind's eye - this was the transitional phase. This was when everything was supposed to come together. She clutched the photograph and wore a horrified stare.
"This is you? This is my baby?"
Tears slipped from the corner of my father's eyes. His strong, silent stoicism never seemed to cease as he held my shivering mother.
"That's me." I said. I was ashamed. "That's what I looked like."
My mom gasped and sobbed, crumpling a picture of a naked, bleeding, skeleton of me. I could see that my Dad wanted to kill me. He wanted to crush all of the brittle bones in my body... He wanted to punish me himself - but there was nothing he could do. He didn't even look at me.
"Dad?" I said, and I reached to touch his arm, "Dad...?"
"You disgust me." He finally said, swiping my arm away. "After all that your mother's been through! After all that I've been through - you go and pull this shit!"
"Dad... stop." I clenched my fists at my sides to keep my emotions in, "Stop... I knew you would do this..."
"How'd you know? Could it be... the fact that my son is destroying himself - and then... showing off the evidence? You're the most selfish little boy - you think... you think we wouldn't care if we lost you?"
Tears slid in fast rivers down my cheeks, "I was trying to be true to you. I was trying to help YOU. I'm still trying to come to the terms with this. This is a part of who I am - not something I'm particularly proud of... but... the least... you could do... is recognize that." I was shaking and tense as I stood in front of him with tears dripping like rain off of my chin. "It means a lot to me that you approve of me, you know. Sometimes I can't control what I get myself into. This is something I've been dealing with... alone... and... and... ASHAMED. I never told you what was happening because I didn't want to hurt you! But now is the time and place - I just wanted you to see..."
"You know Taylor... I find it awful hard to be proud of you right now." He paused and watched me cry. I stepped away from him and sat down in my chair. "You're hurting everyone else more than you're hurting yourself."
He stared at me long and hard, "What? You trying to make me feel bad for you? Why'd you show me this? How was this going to make me feel better? Good for you, Taylor, you fucking throw up your meals! Good for you! You fucked up your life! Good for you! You weigh 85 and one half pounds! Golly Gee! What the fuck do you want me to say?!"
My mom grabbed his arm, "Walker, please... Walker... your language."
"I showed it to you..." I choked and struggled, "I showed you - because I wanted... I wanted to be truthful, I guess. Sometimes the truth isn't always the best thing, is it?" I was really struggling to think of a more logical reason to have showed him the photograph... and my mind ceased to come up with any thing better. I crossed my arms and cried softly, "I don't know why." I looked at my father, "At least I now know how you feel. Maybe... that's all I needed to know."
In the silence between us - my doctor interjected, and tried to soothe my Dad. My sisters were in tears and Isaac was holding Mackenzie. When we parted that evening I didn't say anything. I understood, then, how everyone felt. I turned the other way without words and continued walking. My mother grabbed me from behind and whispered in my ear.
"We love you very much, Taylor. Okay? You know we love you, right? Call me any time, okay? I'll be back this week." Tears fell out of my eyes.
That evening when I went to take my lonely shower. The Stripe escorted me to the showers and I stepped in with a towel round my waist to the familiar sounds of water dripping and running along the tile. I took a deep breath and walked in further and noticed the shower supervisor lying on the floor. I looked up and saw Steve, the new kid I saw jerking off weeks ago, with Angel.
He had him cornered, and I could hear Angel whimpering. I walked over and pulled him off of Angel. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I looked between the two, Angel was shaking.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked again. "You fucking prick!"
"I was just trying to get some ass." He laughed.
"You want some fucking ass? What the fuck is wrong with you? Get the fuck out of here! Leave Angel alone."
He pushed me, and I slipped. He got on top of me and held my arm behind my back, "Listen you anorexic fucktard... I'm not leaving until I get some ass. So it's either you, or him. Alright?"
I lay on the dirty floor for quite some time, held down with my arms behind my back. "Alright." I said eventually, "Fine... Fuck me then."
He started to talk, and let up on his grip. Once he let up enough I turned and stood up quickly. "Shut up! Fuck me!" I demanded and pressed my palms against the shower wall. "Fuck me! What do you think - I've never been fucked by a guy before? Fuck me!"
Angel stared at me and I tried to give him a reassuring glance. Steve approached me. "Fuck me, cock sucker! You want some ass? Well I'm giving you some - stop standing there like you don't know what to do! I've fucked more STD-infested girls than you've probably known in your lifetime! FUCK ME!"
The truth was I had never been fucked by a guy. The only experience I had with men were a few blowjobs at a party in which I was intoxicated out of my mind. I didn't even remember that party. I was feeling chivalric, I wanted to protect Angel from his demons. I would take his pain, at least for today. I thought about the hands gripping my balls, and the pain in my stomach. I wanted to throw up, but I didn't.
Angel stood in the shower beside me as for the first time, I felt like someone was literally tearing apart my insides. I stared at his eyes the whole time - and the pain seemed to fade. I kept all of the burning inside, and I didn't cry until I was alone again. I didn't want to look as weak as I felt - I wanted Angel to think I was strong. My mind flashed back to the first time I had sex with Annissa - and how she cried. A revelation.
"You didn't have to do that, Taylor." Angel told me once Steve was gone.
"It's fine. I'm fine - I just wanted to help you. No one fucks with my friends."
He blushed, "Thank you."
I was shaking as I ran soap over me, and as soon as Angel left the bathroom I broke down in tears. I walked funny for three days, and eased myself into chairs. I tried hard to pretend I wasn't in pain, and avoided Angel and Steve at all costs. I didn't tell anyone what had happened. I was afraid they already knew. No one asked questions, and if they did, I didn't answer them.
The Stripe came in an hour after he had left me that day find me crying in the shower with the supervisor unconscious at the entrance.
"Taylor, what happened?"
"I don't know... He was there when I came in."
"You didn't say anything?"
"No."
"Why are you crying?"
I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist, and waddled out of the room. There were no further questions.
Three weeks later they informed me I could go home... for good. I would continue therapy twice a week, and would have to return to the outpatient center once a week for check-ups. I packed up my things, and said goodbye to Mike, Angel and the Stripe. Angel had just gotten weekends off, and Mike was getting worse. There was nothing I could do. I wished them the best... and walked out of their lives.
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Humanity i love you
-e.e. cummings
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarassing for both
parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard
Humanity i love you because
when you're hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you're flush pride keeps
you from the pawn shop and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your own house
Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it's there and sitting down
on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity
i hate you