Charlotte’s Chatter
Witness to an Eating Disorder
Trigger Warnings: Eating Disorders and Anxiety are both in this article.
I’m going to spare you all my life story but in summary, I have a job that permits travel when we aren’t in quarantine. I met my girlfriend while drifting through her mountainous home country of Colombia. When my visa expired I went to Peru. My girlfriend, Camila, joined me in Lima. A few months, a different city, and several thousand pics later she returned to Colombia and we carried on our relationship from a distance. Now, a little more than a year later and we are renting a home together in Croatia. I can, in all honesty, say, I wouldn’t want to share this time with anyone else. We have been through several tests in our two years together. So far every challenge we get through has made my love for her grow. Her biggest obstacle in life is now Our biggest obstacle. Enters Charlotte.
No, there’s no love triangle or hated bestie, it’s not a teen drama. We’re in our late 20s and one of us might be in their early 30s. Charlotte is a doll my girlfriend carries with her. A doll that I’ve never liked. Sometimes I wish Charlotte was porcelain so I could bump the shelf she perches on. I would make it look like an accident. I’d express my most sincere apologies, of course. Then I’d grab a broom and sweep up her shattered remains off the tile floor while smirking on my way to the trashcan. I’d then return to my grieving girlfriend with a sympathetic hug and a hot tea. Unfortunately, plastic seems to last forever. The better angels of my nature know even if I could break Charlotte it would be taking away a piece of my girlfriend.
I didn’t know about Charlotte until a few months into our relationship. At that point, she had not meant too much to me as my girlfriend kept her on a shelf at home. I learned more about her after Cami unpacked her when they came to Peru. She was immediately placed on the highest shelf in the apartment. I would soon feel her omnipresence looming over our then fragile relationship.
In the first weeks of their arrival, I saw and felt Camila’s anxiety. In my naivety, I thought it was her adjusting to this new country but I would soon learn I was very wrong. That was only one layer of it. I needed to learn more about this person I claimed to love to find out it was a packaged deal. I had to understand how to love them both or walk away from the one I do. Charlotte doesn’t want my love, she prefers keeping my girlfriend to herself. Charlotte doesn’t know I can hear her talking to Camila, but I don’t always know what is being said until later.
A day with Charlotte
Charlotte’s looks deceive in a plaid dress, with silky, black hair and an almond brown skin tone. She’s been with Camila since they were young, but she didn’t become social until their teens. Of course, while Cami ages the years have done very little to Charlotte. She has accompanied Camila to the ER and a psychiatric hospital. She now accompanies us in Europe.
Charlotte sleeps in after an exhausting night of antagonism. This means Camila can enjoy herself a little at the start of the day. In her grogginess, she observes in silence while Camila does her morning Yoga. She even lets her cook breakfast undisturbed. Midway through eating the mood shifts. Despite my insistence Charlotte remains in a locked suitcase, she finds her way to a shelf in the kitchen. In her wicked tone, she whispers to my 40-kilogram girlfriend that the two slices of toast with jam were too much. After all, she already had a whole bowl of fruit. As the day wears on Camila works at the computer with tabs so scrunched together only website emblems are visible. The topics of the tabs vary.
Charlotte reminds her that writing a book is unachievable. She laughs in Camila’s face at the thought of anything she does for public viewing. “Writing isn’t for you. I’ve heard you talk about a podcast to help others.” she snarls. “How would YOU help them?” and to finish her off she reiterates that attending university at almost 30 is pathetic. “Why couldn’t you do it before?” She taunts some more and giggles. They both remember her months in the hospital and years of recovery. She then points out the cookie crumbs scattered on the keyboard. Camila’s eyes dart to her hell and place of solace, her purgatory. Charlotte in a calm, reassuring voice says, “It’s for the best.”
Camila’s eyes are filling with tears when she tells me about the things Charlotte muttered to her. The painful thoughts that shuffled through her head which led to her trip to the bathroom. She purged again. It was the first time in several months, but she feels like a failure. She also feels fat and unproductive. She lays down flat on her stomach with her face pressed into the bed and mournfully says, “No worries about me. Just my same discourse. I’m never going to change. I will be stuck in the same patterns forever.”
I listen and do the only thing I know how I try to make her laugh. I point out that I’ve seen a lot of change in our two years and it sounds to me like she is quite different than she was 5 and 10 years ago. It’s likely my responses are inadequate. I am very rarely able to find the right words to completely silence Charlotte. This undergraduate I have in…reading books hardly qualifies me to offer sound advice. While I am a bit older and have dealt with mental health issues of my own, I feel the best thing I can do is listen. When I listen and distract her with my absurdities and puppets I see Charlotte. She isn’t perched as high when Camila smiles and belts out the laugh I love so much and joins me by making more jokes.
Better days
During our time in Europe, things have improved. Charlotte sits on a lower shelf most days, but she clambers up a bit higher on others. We are finding ways to help her cope and keep the nasty thoughts out of her head. When she goes to the bathroom I often find myself timing her and wondering if she’s harming herself. If she refuses to eat a certain food I don’t push it on her, but I do ask why. The answer is usually concern about it making her “chubby”. I have mixed feelings about her workout routine as of late because she is doing aerobic exercise more than once a day. On the one hand, exercise has both mental and physical benefits. On the other hand, I know at one point aerobic exercise was an obsession of hers. We talked recently and she said she would focus more on strength building routines. In the battle against her eating disorder, there is still a lifetime of recovery and I’ll be here as long as she wants me around.
Disclaimer: This was written by me and approved by my SO for publishing.