E-mail to Lorna

[x-crowdofone.livejournal.com]

To: {Superconducting Fridge Magnet}
From: {Xerox Boy}
Subject: Almost forgot.



The whole thing with the comments and the math and the gnome can-can line kinda distracted me. You realize we're all going to be used for caber-tossing targets if Doc MacTaggart checks her e-mail before she has her coffee tomorrow, right? :)

Seriously, though . . . I wanted to make sure you know that I care about you. A lot. And if you ever need anything, I'm here, as long as it doesn't involve me actually wearing a dress instead of just being teased about it. And I've been worried about you, a lot, only Alison says you're going to be working on getting better now, which is a huge load off my mind, and if I can help with that, I want to, because you're my friend and you mean a lot to me.

So. What can I do?

Comments

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

To: Madrox, Jamie
From: Dane, Lorna
Subject: Fridge Magnet?

Jamie,

Alison told you, did she?

Oh God, Moira. I think she's got her coffee maker on a timer. Hopefully, anyway. Perhaps I'll hide somewhere until I'm sure. You don't think she'd hurt the sick girl, do you?

Right, yeah, I can say it now. And it's got me scared because even though I know what I've done...I still can look in the mirror and think I'm fat. And the thought of waking up tomorrow and eating more than 600 calories makes me nauseous. So, yeah. I'm going to need a lot of help. Because this has been my life for a very very long time.

I don't know how you can help. I don't know enough about what is wrong with me yet. I never thought that I would have to worry about this. I never thought I could be this stupid. It's not as though I didn't know about this before I ever got started. And sane people just don't starve themselves.

I have no idea what to say, Jamie. I don't have any comforting thoughts or explanations. But knowing you want to help, does. So thanks.

--Lorna

[x-crowdofone.livejournal.com]

To: {Grand High Compass-Twiddler?}
From: {Xerox Boy}
Subject: Re: Fridge Magnet?

Superconducting Fridge Magnet. Capable of securing crayon drawings up to three tons in weight. :) Mostly just a pun with your powers and the cooking thing, but you probably got that bit.

See, the thing is, you don't have to be comforting. Comforted, maybe. Alison didn't tell me anything other than this was why you guys had that fight, and you'd decided you needed help--I'd kind of figured out a lot of the rest myself, from noticing you aren't as, uh, bouncy as usual, and from the way most of the kitchen utensils stay where I put them, and I asked her what to do, because I was worried and I didn't think another fight was gonna solve anything, so I wasn't sure if I should bring it up to you directly.

If you need anything--like, once you get to where you want something to eat, whatever it is, salad, or a sandwich, or some weird complicated Tibetan dessert thing I have to spend an hour on the Internet finding out where to order the ingredients, you let me know, okay? I'll make it even if I have to learn how first. Also, I kind of have this specialty in group hugs, ask Kitty. So there's that.

It's okay to be scared. We're all here for you.

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

To: Madrox, Jamie
From: Dane, Lorna
Subject: I think you have too much fun with those nicknames.

I didn't realize that I spent that much time cleaning up after you. Am I really that obsessive about the kitchen? (Actually, you don't have to answer that. I'm well aware of how obsessive I am when it comes to food and food related things. It comes with the territory.) Avoiding the kitchens has nothing to do with my anorexia. In some ways, cooking was my best defense. No one questions your eating habits when you're the one prepping the food. Cooking lessons were the worst turn ever done to me, in some ways. I can't get away from knowing exactly what I'm eating. I'm encyclopedic on calorie counts.

The frustrating thing is that I know that it's not healthy to think the way I do. But there's a disconnect. Putting food in front of me won't solve it. It's not a problem of economy. I starve because I'm incapable of allowing myself to do otherwise. Forcing myself to eat will make me ill. 200 calories at one meal and I feel like a pig. Heck, even looking at that number, thinking about allowing myself that much, is making me feel guilty.

Right now, I think what I need most from you guys is to hold me accountable. Don't let me tell you I'm not hungry. Of course, I'm hungry. I've spent years being hungry. Tell me I need to eat. But let me feed myself. I have to be the one in control of this.

And yeah, thanks.

--Lorna