“I don’t know.”
“That’s somewhere to start then. Let’s talk about food, shall we? I think that’s right up there next to sex for you. Eating makes you a monster. Was that because your mother never had enough money for food? You said she starved you for days or put things in your food—soap, Tabasco sauce, cayenne pepper—when she did let you eat, then would deny you anything to drink. When you did eat, it would take away food and money from her, which made you a monster. We’ve talked at length about it. Do you believe all food will be tainted now? Do you still believe that eating makes you a bad person?”
“No. If I can see it being made, I know there’s nothing in it. If I can make it myself, that’s better. What my mom did was wrong. I understand that. I need to eat to survive.” There would likely always be foods he would never touch. The memories were too strong. “It’s just hard to remind myself of that. Some days, just the thought of eating anything makes me sick.”
“Do you ever enjoy food?”
“Sometimes.” Dane had really liked the cookies he and Bas had made. He wished he had more or hadn’t eaten the ones he’d been given so quickly. He would have liked to savor them. “I really liked the cookies, even if they were called unicorn poop.”
“So back to your thoughts on sex, then. Wouldn’t it stand to reason that sex would be better, different, perhaps pleasurable with someone you cared for? Like the crepes you made for Tommy or the cookies that you and Sebastian created for your friends. Those things have value, sentiment, joy from more than just their taste and caloric intake, correct?”
“Yes. They are special because I did those things for my friends.”
“And I think that is key for you, Dane. Your recovery needs to focus on joy, which for you comes from giving joy to others. No more focusing on fear. This friend that you were attracted to is with someone else. Does that hurt you?”
“It did at first. But I’m happy for him. I know he’s with someone who’s great. And you know, when Bas held me that time through a panic attack, I thought maybe I could find that too. It felt good to have his arms around me.”
“His touch didn’t hurt.”
“No.” And only then did Dane realize it. Bas had touched him, more than once, and it hadn’t hurt. Not a rough hug or a brutal slap on the back, or anything much worse. “He never hurt me physically. But said some not nice things.”
“In response to the not nice things you said first?”
Dane sighed. “Yes.”
His therapist nodded. “Do you like this Sebastian the way you did your friend from the band?”
Dane shrugged. “I don’t know him very well. He seems nice. Kept coming back even when I said bad stuff. Except this last time. I really fucked it up.”
“You’ve been eating better all week because you don’t want Tommy to be angry. Tell me why you really think he’s angry at you.”
“I said mean things to Bas, and he left.”
“I don’t think that’s it exactly. Is there anything else you can think of?”
Dane thought about it and stared out the far window, wondering what his friend was doing and, oddly, wondering what Bas was doing. Was Bas still mourning his grandmother? Dane had never known anyone who died. People just left ’cause they didn’t care to stay around. Was that sort of grief at all the same? Maybe he could make Bas cookies. Remind Bas that hewastrying to get better.
I hope you realize, Dane, that by pushing people away from Tommy you’re hurting him, not protecting him, Bas had told him before he walked out the door.
“I hurt Tommy,” Dane told Dr. Zander.
“How did you hurt Tommy?”
“I pushed Bas away. Bas was here not just for me, but to help Tommy deal with his feelings about what’s happening to me, about how messed up I am. I won’t let Tommy tell Ru, so he’s been dealing with it all by himself.”
Dane realized then that Tommy needed Bas, or at least a friend. And he’d left all his friends behind in Minnesota. Isolated himself for Dane’s sake. While Dane had countless doctors, nurses, and assistants, Tommy had no one.
“Is there a program in Minnesota that I can transfer to? Someplace where I can be close to my friends?” And they could be close to each other.
“It will be a very different environment than what you’re used to, since you were born and raised in California. And you’ll have to tell them why you’re in treatment if you want them to be there to support you. Are you ready for that step? To tell all your friends your problems and face this head-on?”
Dane nodded. He only had a few friends left, and he’d do just about anything to keep them.
“I’m ready.”
“It may mean opening up more of your past to them.”
“Telling them that I was sexually and physically abused by my parents?” He thought it should be harder to say those words, but he’d stepped into the first day of therapy knowing what had happened to him as a child was wrong. That didn’t mean the crap wasn’t ingrained in his head; it just meant he knew why it was there.
