Birthday Cake

Birthday Cake – Short Story Caille Rose

Trigger Warning – Portrayal of Eating Disorder/Disordered Eating.

“Oh, my goodness! Sarah?! You look great! Have you lost weight?” A smile twitched at the edge of my lips as I looked up to see my old friend Rachel was in the line with me.

“Maybe a little, thank you! How are you?” She turned around to give me a hug, and I instinctively recoiled a little. She did not notice, like usual. My stomach clenched tight against my spine as I returned her embrace.

“I’m doing well. I am here just getting some groceries.” I started loading my things onto the belt behind hers. I kept my breathing slow and steady, my shoulders back and my stomach clenched. I turned my eyes down to my groceries on the belt.

“Yeah, me too.” Our groceries stared back at us; I clenched my teeth against the resulting pain in my stomach. I fought to keep my hands steady as I placed my groceries. Oranges, potatoes, salad, fish. No sweets. No red meats. No grains.

The cashier starting scanning Rachel’s groceries. Pie, Cake, Steak. I took a deep breath as a deep pain rang in my stomach. I closed my eyes for just a moment, steading myself against the belt. I quickly opened my eyes again, looking beside me to see if anyone noticed.

“Wait, isn’t your birthday coming up?” I looked up at Rachel, plastering another smile on my face.

“Yes, actually, it’s this Friday!” I watched the cashier scan the last of Rachel’s groceries as gears turned in her head. She paid and left. As she did, the cashier began scanning my groceries.

“You still in the same place?” Rachel was at the end of the checkout, halfway through another step, frozen with her cart.

“Uh, yeah. Same place.” She nodded her head in response to me.

“Cool, it was nice seeing you! Happy early birthday!” With that, she walked away, and I turned my smile to the cashier.

They finished scanning my groceries, and I placed them in my cart. I headed home, food on my mind. I thought of things I could cook once I got home. However, once I was home, I packed my groceries into my fridge and cupboards. As I was finishing up, I once again I steadied myself, this time against my wall. I took a deep, slow breath. The pain passed.

I grabbed a cup of water and headed to my office to work. **********************************************************************

I must have dozed off. I woke up to the sound of my doorbell ringing. It was 6 pm. I pushed myself back from my desk and took a deep breath.

I headed to the door and, upon opening it, was surprised to find a package and a cake on my doorstep. A chocolate cake. Taped to the cake container was a small tag. I reached forward to read the tag.

“Dear Sarah,

I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I bought this cake earlier, but I decided you know what? It’s almost your birthday, you should have it!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it,

Rachel.”

I let go of the tag and squatted down to pick up the package and the cake. My legs trembled as I stood with the package. I took another deep, steadying breath, closing my eyes against the air in my head. Once the ground felt steady under my feet again, I walked inside.

I put the package and cake on the kitchen table and took a seat in front of it. I stared at the cake and the present, then after what seemed like an eternity, I jumped up from the table. Pushing myself away, I rubbed my eyes. My jaw was tight, my throat felt closed. I turned back towards the table. I put my hands on the edge of the table, resting my weight on my palms.

I felt the pain again. Come on, Sarah, it’s just cake. I opened the container. The smell of chocolate flooding my nostrils. My spine bent against the resulting lurch from my stomach. I can have a slice of cake, just one slice.

I turned away from the table again. God, this is ridiculous, isn’t it, to be in such a state over a piece of cake? I know this, but logic goes out the window in these cases. I walked over to the sink, opening the cabinet above it. I reach in slowly and grabbed a small plate. Just one piece. I can do this. It is just a cake.

You have fruit in the fridge. Why are you eating cake? Do you know how bad that is for you? How much sugar is in that?

I grit my teeth against the voice running through my head. I mean, yes, cake is terrible for you. It is full of sugar. I sat the plate on the counter and turned around again, walking away. As I passed the table, the smell of chocolate hit my nose again.

I froze.

My stomach jumped.

I became extremely aware of the fact the fork was still in my hand. I turned it over, running my fingers along the handle. My mind was empty at this moment.

It was at this moment that I felt the control lapse. There is only so long you can hold it off. It will always be a fight you will lose. Mind over matter only goes so far. I stepped forward and, with a resigned sigh, plunged my fork into the cake. I pulled the forkful to my mouth, pausing for just a moment. Then I caved.

At first, I chewed slowly. Despite the soft texture of the cake, my mouth felt overwhelmed. Then my starved body came alive again. I pulled the chair out from the table with one hand, the other grabbing another forkful from the cake. I sat down; my mind was empty. I reached forward and pulled another forkful. Then another. And another. Until half the cake was gone.

I sat back. My body feeling uncomfortably full, not just from food. I stared blankly at the cake in front of me for a moment. A familiar stinging in my eyes. I closed them against it.

I took a deep breath and stood from the table. Replacing the lid on the cake and walking to the sink. I saw the plate I had left with the intention of leaving the cake as well, and my eyes burned once again. I put it back in its place and blinked against the burning in my eyes before turning away once again.

I took a deep breath, wiped my face, and returned to my office to work.

Happy Birthday to me.

Epilogue: Why is this story important?

This story serves to tackle a complicated issue. High functioning and hidden eating disorders. Eating disorders have long been in the public eye, dramatized to sell tickets and views. Everyone knows the story of the anorexic girl, Hollywood brand, of course; they have written it a thousand times over.

They always write this story so it shows some damsel in distress, someone who needs to be saved. They are young, beautiful, and impossibly thin. A perfect disaster. This version of the story exists. It is real. However, it is not nearly the only way these things are present. It also hardly ever tackles the genuine issue. Control.

Many with eating disorders are only looking for a way to control something in their life. Many have experienced significant trauma or abuse in their life. Some at the hands of family, others at the hands of society. It is important that we hear their stories. Two of these disorders include Atypical Anorexia and Orthorexia.

With Atypical Anorexia, individuals can be of healthy weight, maybe even overweight, but suffering from the same restrictive relationship with food. With these individuals, the praise of others around them often validates their disorder.

A sufferer of orthorexia often gets validated as a healthy lifestyle. Why? This disorder involves an intense obsession with healthy eating, exercise, the fitness lifestyle.

The worst bit? They can exist together, in the same tortured mind.

What happens when the two meet a society that does not understand, a society where weight and weight loss are acceptable ice breakers when seeing an old friend?