What are friends for?

Now I remember why I'm trying to quit drinking.

I live in a suburban area with a poor night life. There's nothing for people under 21 to do here, because the only thing open at night is bars. So my little ratpack of friends tend to get cheap alcohol from one of our various 21+ friends and spread out a blanket in the woods to drink. It's dark and creepy and requires a lot of walking, but it's a routine. Last night I went drinking with the guys. My boyfriend Tom, my best friend, and two others - Chase and Charlie.

Some background information: My best friend's nickname is Bones, because he's skinny and the bones in his ribcage show very well. Not a lot of people know the reason for this, but I do. Bones has been struggling with anorexia for as long as I have. Lately he's been telling me insistently that he wants to get better, he's going to get over this.

I believed him.

So back to last night. We drank for a couple of hours in a patch of dark forest, but Bones was the only one who got drunk. He downed an entire bottle of wine by himself while everyone else sipped Smirnoff Ices. Then it started to rain. We packed up the rest of the booze and practically carried Bones to a playground nearby for shelter. Just as we did the sky opened up. We hid from the downpour in tunnels and under plastic roofs. I settled into a spot alone with Tom and decided to lie down and pull my shirt up to cool off. It was warm outside, despite the rain. Tom  reached over and ran his hand over my belly and up to my ribs, where he stopped suddenly.

"Holy shit, you have no fat on you. You're bony as fuck!" He whispered in a startled hiss. I shook my head vigorously and declared that I did indeed have fat all over me. Just then, Bones stumbled up the playground stairs into our shelter. He saw my ribs and mumbled something slurred and angry. Tom (always the joker of the group) declared, "dude, we can't call you Bones anymore, I'm pretty sure she stole that title from you."

Bones lost it.

I love Tom, but I don't think he realized what he was saying. Telling an anorexic (particularly a very drunk and very sensitive anorexic) that someone else (let alone their BEST FRIEND) stole their title as the skinny one...is probably one of the worst things you can say to them.

Before I knew it, Bones was going on about his plan to drink until he puked so he could get rid of the dinner he ate. He talked about how he hates his life and how I'm a stupid bitch for refusing to eat that day. He said it all with a cold, broken smile that made him look absolutely insane. I fought back. I told him that he was weak for having to drink until he puked. I could throw up whenever I wanted, because I was a "better" bulimic than him. I said he didn't know jack shit about the psychology of anorexia. He continued to slur and call me a bitch. He told me to "eat bitch, you can't be skinnier than me. Eat your fucking food." I had bought a 25 calorie side salad from a fast food place earlier that day. I had tucked it away in my bag for when I got terrifically hungry. Bones took  the salad out and set it in front of me. "Eat the salad bitch."

I took two bites of lettuce and chucked the rest of the salad into the woods. Bones looked like he was ready to kill me. I found Chase across the playground and told him to take me home. Charlie could tell I was upset, but he didn't know why. He hadn't heard the fight. He gave me a hug and said, "we'll get you home baby girl." Tom heard bits and pieces of the fight. He was annoyed at both me and Bones. He knows we have eating disorders but he doesn't like to talk about it.

I got home around 3AM and fell into bed. Despite the exhaustion from lack of food and the fight with Bones, I couldn't sleep for a while. I just looked up at my ceiling, thinking about nothing at all.

Weighed in this morning at 151.

9 pounds and one best friend down.