January 26th, 2009

"Allen, the set needs to be higher, you're not getting the height for your double twisting double." Coach told me. Well, more like yelled at me. I nodded to show I got the correction. It was stuff I knew. I had the bad form when twisting, it was the way I learned so now I have to fix it. I walk to the adjacent corner and stand behind Adrian. He went and did his double twisting double tuck. A skill I could only dream of doing. He landed with a few steps back, but not much.

"Allen, you could learn a few things from Adrian. He's got it down." Coach told me. I nod again, breathe, and run, hurdle, round off, handspring, set, then start the flips, twist the first, pike the second. I landed with a hop backwards and then stand.

"How was that?" I asked. Coach shrugged.

"It was better, but not great." He said. Adrian was by the side of the floor, he looked confused.

"I thought it looked great, your height was phenomenal." Adrian said.

"Thanks." I said. Discouraged. I sighed, walked to get a drink and my granola bar for a snack. Adrian sat down by the locker area. I follow, but not without remarks from coach.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you. It'll just weigh you down." He said. I looked down. My cheeks were red. I put the wrapped bar down.

"Dude, don't listen to what he said." Adrian told me. I shake my head.

"No. It's ok. I'm ok, really." I say, and I slink away into the bathroom. The practice ended with some pommel horse and high bar. The practice ended, and I was packing up to get ready to go home. I was tired for sure.

"Hey Allen, I need you in my office for a second." Coach said. I felt didn't know what he was meaning, but I followed, my heart beating fast, not knowing what to think about.

"What do you need?" I asked. Coach pulled out a scale. I didn't even know he had one. My heart raced faster.

"You're tumbling seems slow and low. It's a chance that this is holding you back." Coach told me. I watched him motion for me to step on. Trembling, I do as such. He looks down.

"How tall are you?" Coach asked.

"5'4." I said. He shook his head in what seemed like disappointment.

"You're 115. There's your problem. You'll need to lose five pounds before you can perform at peak again." He said. I nodded.

"I'll do that." I say. He smiles.

"Good. I hope to see you performance improve." He said. I walk back out. I was almost in tears, I didn't know how to do this. No 12 year old should know how to do this. I knew it had to do with food. Eat less or something. It made sense to me, don't eat, lose weight. I guess I knew what I had to do. It was going to suck, I knew that, but it was worth the success. I walked out to find my mom standing there, I hug her, relieved to see her.

"Hey, everything ok?" She asked. I nod.

"Yeah, sorry." I said.

(March 12, 2009)

We had an early morning in the hotel. I was with Adrian and my family. We were at the meet that dictated whether we made it to regionals or not, so it was pretty big. I got out of bed at six, after mom had shaken me awake.

"Allen, we need to get ready and go if you want to make it at seven." She told me. I groan and walk into the bathroom, still half naked and only in my boxers. I brush my teeth, grab my meet uniform and warm-ups. I slipped them on, they felt looser, it meant one thing. My body was smaller. I had lost weight. I didn't know how much, but it was definitely noticeable. I smiled, the success made me happy. It was nice to succeed at something for once, ya know. I grab my bag, which had my grips, tape and water, then we go down to the breakfast area. I looked at it all. I was overwhelmed. I panicked.

"I don't want anything." I say. Mom looks over at me.
"Allen, you need the energy, I'm not arguing again." She says, sternly. I sigh. I grab an apple.
"Fine." I say.

"More than that." She says. I sigh, grab a bagel to and she finally lets up. We go to the car, hop in and drive to our meet. I sit besides Adrian. He had some protein bar and a banana next to him. I had the apple and bagel. He just picked up the banana and ate it, no care at all. I, well, mom had to yell at me to eat my food. The drive was fast, and we got there 40 minutes before we had competition. Other people from our team were here already, so we joined them. Coach walked over as well.

"Allen, hope you're ready for today." He said. I nodded.

"Ready as ever." I say. He smiles.

"Good." He says. We wait around a little, hoping that more would show up, but the time was coming closer and closer, so we just accepted that we had about four kids on our team today. We walked towards the floor to warm up. We did some basic warm ups, then some basic tumbling and prepared for the first event. We had parallel bars first. We got our grips on and then went over to the bars. Everyone had about 2 minutes to warm up. I was first to compete. I stand and wait for the judge to salute me.

"Hey, you got this kid. Especially if you've lost the weight." Coach said. I nodded.

"I'll do my best." I say. I salute the judge and do my routine. I few handstands, some pirouette swings, a release, double back dismount. I stuck the landing, and finished, smiling as I walk off. Coach pulls me in for a hug.

"That was surprisingly good." Coach said. I smiled.
"Thanks." I say. I anxiously wait for the score, and it ended up being 9.625. Which I was pleased with. The meet continued. 9.3 on pommel, 9.4 on rings, 9.2 on vault, 9.5 on high bar, 9.7 on floor. I placed 4th on pommel, 5th on vault, 3rd on high bar, 1st on floor and p-bars. It was successful, and I did make it to regionals. I was pleased, others were pleased. The drive home was long, it was more tiring than the actual meet. I just sort of flopped onto my bed and didn't do much for the rest of the day. I was just drained.

(September 19th, 2011)

Adrian was complaining about his back in practice today, it did concern me, as back injuries usually meant that you'd be out for the rest of your life. He was one of our best kids, I didn't want to see him leave in such a bad condition. Everything has changed now, we have a new coach, a new season, new routines. It's been hectic. We have a new coach as we've moved to the Junior Elite now. Never thought I'd make it, but I did. I made it through the qualifier at age 13, which was, well last year.

We had just finished our usual friday practice. It was decently successful, I didn't do anything stupid, which was always good. We had another meet soon, in about a week, it was sort of important. It just dictated whether we'd be considered for the USA team for Worlds, so it was just slightly very important. I was a little stressed, just a little (a lot). My brain kept nagging to lose weight again, get back down to those 100 pounds I was a while ago. I didn't want to listen to it, I knew I needed as much strength for this meet. I did want to drop weight though, it may help with my height and flight.

"Adrian, do you think I need to drop some weight before next Saturday?" I asked Adrian. He just looked me up and down and sighed.

"You're what like 5'7 and 115? So no, no you don't." He said. I shrugged.
"But like, really, I don't know, I feel weirdly gross." I explained.
"We all have those days dude, just power through." Adrian said.
"Alright, alright." I say. Ben, our coach, cleared his throat as loudly as he could to signify that someone should go. I prep myself, breathe and start the vault. I was training a yurchenko two and a half, also known as an amanar. It was used just as a difficulty bonus, see in elite they don't just start at a 10, no, we have difficulty above that to, so the more difficult routine, the higher the score. This amanar has a maximum score of 16.5. I was pretty decent at it, so I'd score in the high 15s usually. It gave me a good chance to win the event final. I step forward in the landing, but only a single step. I look over at Ben to see what he thought.

"Your height was good, the twist was fine, your legs came apart a tiny bit, and the landing wasn't great. It'd score about a 15.5." He said. I nodded and walked back to the runway.

"You need to do 5 more amanars and then do a few front hand doubles." He said. I nodded, and moved to the other vault table, and continued. I did a few front hand doubles, which was a front handspring over the table and a laid out double twist off of it, then finished my amanars. I was gasping by the end, trying to catch my breath. I knew the restriction was catching up again. I could only do it every few weeks for like a week, usually before a meet or something close. This week was no exception, I was eating 1700 and burning about 800-900 through training. We never trained super hard the week before a meet, four hour days usually. It was to prevent any soreness or injury.

I finish the vaults and my conditioning, then it was about 1 pm, which meant that practice was over. I waited for a pickup after changing, my mom came in the door about ten minutes afterwards, handed me some food, and we left. I sighed. I didn't want to eat it, but you know, she sort of gave me no other choice to, so I reluctantly ate it. It wasn't even worth the calories.

(February 23rd, 2012)

After worlds last year, Adrian was never the same. He got gold on the rings and high bar, I was second all-around. It was kind of crazy, honestly. He quit a few weeks ago, as his back was just not doing what it could do. He was in too much pain to really do much. It was weird without him, the team felt empty, but I powered on, I wanted to make the next olympic cycle, I had it in me, I knew I did. For some reason it's odd, but I've been wanting to think I'm finally free of the illness. I gained most of the weight back, then shot from 5'7 to 5'11, and from 115 to 135. I'm known as that tall gymnast, the one who surprises far too many people. It's a topic in interviews that really gets discussed far too much. It was weird at first to accept that it had happened, but slowly my brain got used to the feeling, and now it's just a fact of life. Mom is real happy I got over this whole thing, and honestly, I am to. It really sort of sucked, a lot. Adrian had come over today. He was still in physical therapy for his spine, and it was disheartening, real disheartening.

"Are you sure you're never able to come back?" I asked. He nodded, laying on my bed, his back in a brace.
"Yeah, they were sorta real clear that I'll probably never be able to do this stuff again." He said, you could just feel the sadness that resonated from his voice.

"Damn, that sucks. What will you do now?" I asked. He shrugged.
"Music maybe, I don't know." He explains.
"Ah, that sounds pretty cool though." I say. He shrugs.
"I just wish we could've done the journey to the olympic games together, we were so close, so damn close." He says. I sit on my bed next to him.

"Yeah, but think about, once you're retired, we can create some sort of music project together, maybe?" He said, phrased as a question or a suggestion. I couldn't figure it out.

"True." I say. He smiles.

"I hope so." He says. I hear footsteps come towards the door and Mallory, my younger sister, walks in.
"What's up?" I asked her.

"Oh, mom just called you two for lunch." She explained.

"Ah, we'll be down in a second." I say, and she heads back down the stairs. Adrian gets up from my bed and we head down the stairs. Mom had an array of stuff that she made. Something of everything it seemed. I sat next to Adrian, grabbed some bread, some of the pasta, and some of the peas she had. Adrian did the same, just slightly more than I did. We start eating. I realized how weird it was that only a year ago I was still starving the hell out of myself, yet now, well I'm able to just eat. It was weird, it sort of came in waves now. I'd spend a good month in disordered hell, then eat like a normal kid the next. I still hated myself, but not as much anymore. It's kind of nice to be honest.

"I have to pee, I'll be back." Adrian said, then left.
"Thanks for the lovely information." Mallory yells his way before he goes into the hallway. We continued eating. I heard the sink run pretty loudly from where I sat. Nothing odd, just loud. I put my plate in the sink and Adrian walks back to the table a few minutes later, he smelt real nice, like some sort of lavender.

"Did you use mom's weird lavender air freshener or something?" I asked. Adrian nodded.
"Yeah, I'd rather that than smell like shit, you know?" He said. I had to agree, so I left it at that. We went back to my room, played some lame games, and at around 6ish, Adrian had to go, sadly.

(August 11th, 2013)

I decided to retire my gymnastics career. It was getting to be too much to handle. I guess it was more of an indefinite pause, maybe I'll re-visit it later again, after my body takes a break. I was thankful for being able to compete at worlds at such a young age, but it just got too much for me, so I knew it was time to retire. Funny thing, my height shot from 5'11 to 6'2 a few weeks after quitting, which was great, yet not so great. I knew that meant I had gained weight to, even though I knew it was only from height, and not even anything to do with food. It still distressed me quite a bit. I wasn't as worried about myself as I was Adrian, he seemed far more distant than he normally was. It was as if he was hiding something about himself, I didn't know what, but with that kid, it could be anything.

Adrian was taking me to a punk show tonight, I had never really been to a show, but I always wanted to. I found this weird love for angry music quite a while ago, and it just really began to manifest itself. Excited was an understatement to say the least. I was beyond excited. You see, after you retire from something that takes up your entire day, go back to public school and get complete freedom over yourself, it's kind of crazy how boring life becomes. There's this mundane part I call the waiting game, what I'm waiting for? I don't know, maybe for everything to make sense to me again. I realized I was doing it now, just like I always did. I was waiting for four to come around so I could go to the show. In between now and four, I didn't know what I was doing, honestly. I guess just bullshit.

Eventually the clock showed four, Adrian knocked on the house door. I grabbed my keys. Another thing I finally had time to do was to learn how to drive, I never thought I'd ever learn, but the moment I retired mom just took me straight to go make my permit, then began the process.

"You ready?" Adrian asked. I shrugged.
"I don't know, maybe?" I said. He smiled, and we go to the garage, which was in a weird half-hallway by the kitchen.

"Is this your first show?" Adrian asked. I nodded, and we got into the car. I turn on the engine and put some Converge on.

"Yeah, which is why it's kind of nerve-wracking." I explain.

"Well, it'll be pretty cool, you're in for a real treat." Adrian explains. We drive off to the one venue, which was downtown, it was pretty nice, it wasn't amazing, but it wasn't dingy at all. We walk to the door, pay the five dollar entrance fee and observe the atmosphere. It was odd. Everyone was at least 18-20, only a few seemed younger. Most of them had either buzzed hair, really long hair, or a mix of which sides they shaved. Adrian knew what he was doing, at least it seemed that way. He kept me closer to the back of the crowd as the show began, I sort of figured out why. People love to create these things they called "mosh pits", in which they seem to just bump into each other. I was tall, but not bulky enough for one of those, so I stayed back. One of the kids in the pit walked to one of the sofas in the back of the venue, he sat down, then observed the two of us.
"You two ok?" He asks. Adrian shrugs.
"It's our first show, I don't really know what to do." He explains. The kid smiles.
"Ah, that's normal. I'm Oliver by the way," He reaches a hand out to us, Adrian shakes it. "The biggest tip is to stay to the side of the crowd if you're not wanting to get into the pits." He explained.

"Ah, thanks." Adrian said. Oliver took a random drumstick from his pocket. Yeah, he just literally fit a drumstick into his pants pocket. I was sort of fascinated by it.

"You drum?" I asked, surprised.

"Oh yeah, I'm looking for a band right now actually, do you guys play?" He asked.

"I play guitar, yeah." Adrian said.

"I can sing and scream, it's rough though." I explain. Oliver shrugs.
"That's ok, it's a learned art." He explains. I nod.

"Are you suggesting something?" I asked. He nods.
"You guys wanting to start a band?" He asks.
"Um, heck yeah." I say. Oliver gives us his address, a time, and we just talk about music for the entire rest of the evening.

(October 15, 2013)

I got a call earlier today that Adrian was in the hospital. I didn't know what for, I just knew he was there. After I finished showering, I was already planning on going over there to visit. He was worrying me more and more as time went on, showing signs of things that I used to do. I wanted to just figure out the riddle that is his brain, but that was hard. Adrian was very secretive about his life, only telling others what he believes they want to hear about him. I had thoughts racing through my head as I drove over. It could be minor, an illness, an injury. It could be severe. I didn't know what to think.

I walked into the room a while later. The sight wasn't one that I wanted to see. His face looked so washed out and pale. It shocked me, I hadn't seen him for two weeks before this, it was a sudden difference. I sat beside the bed, in a chair. My hands were shaking. Adrian looked over at me.
"I'm sorry Allen." He said. I looked to him.
"For what?" I asked.

"Abandoning you that one night. I never should've." He said, which caused me to think of so many scenarios in my head.

"What happened?" I asked. He shrugged.

"They said I had passed out by the side of the road." He explained.
"From what?" I asked. He shrugged.
"Something about extremely low potassium, I don't know." He said. I knew two things that could cause that, one was impossible, and the other, Adrian's been purging.
"Are you sure you don't know?" I asked. He shrugged.
"They mentioned something about Bulimia, I don't know Allen, it's been so long, I don't know what's normal anymore." He explained.

"Adrian, you know who you're talking to, right? I'm in the exact ballpark, just like you." I said. He smiled, it was a sad smile, but it was a smile.
"I'm sorry. I should've gone to ask for help or something, but you get so used to doing the same thing everyday that you forget that it's dangerous." He explained. I put my hand on his to help him feel more comfortable.

"Do you know why it happened?" I asked. He shrugged.
"I guess it just was sort of a means to control myself after quitting. My spine was just so overwhelming. I wasn't ready to stop when I did. I didn't want to have to face the facts that were in front of me." He explained.
"Man, I remember that feeling. I'm so sorry. I wish I could help more, but I'm not sure of how to." I say. Adrian shrugs.
"I guess I just need to learn how to open up." Adrian said.
"It's hard isn't it?" I asked. He nodded.
"I mean, if I had taken care of myself, we could've been on our way to Worlds again, then start with Olympic trials and maybe we could've made it to the top. We could've made it. I was just stupid, I did that stupid thing on vault and ruined all of my chances." He said.

"You tried something new, you did something absolutely phenomenal. Your back was just strained, if you take a few years off, I'm sure you can do stuff again." I say. He shrugs.
"In a few years I'll be too old for the sport." He says. I sigh. I rub his hand, trying to calm him down. His wrists were beat up, mainly some burns and bruises, which I predicted were his own doing. He looked down, knowing I'd seen them. He knew I had issues with self-harm in the past, around the same as when my eating issues were at an all-time high.

"It's ok Adrian, it's ok to ask for help." I tell him. He sighs.
"I know, it's just, opening up is hard, really hard." He says.

"I gotta go soon, hope you feel better." I say. I leave the room, my heart had sunk into the bottom of my chest. When I got home, it didn't get better. I could barely get food past my lips, Adrian was just too heavy on my mind.

The next three days at school sucked. Adrian was still in the hospital, and now Oliver went missing to, he wouldn't answer calls, no texts. He wasn't anywhere, as if he were missing. I just felt hopeless against all the things that happened in the past week.

(June 21ist, 2014)

I turn 17 today. It wasn't anything special, just another year, but a year closer to being an adult. Mom had forced me to be social, so she planned some sort of celebration. A couple people from my extended family were visiting, Adrian and Oliver as well. We were just sort of jamming by the side of the pool. I didn't know what was happening anymore. I felt pretty ok. I had a piece of the cake next to me, as I decided that it was ok to eat it, it's not like I turn 17 everyday. The thoughts were dull in the back of my mind. I noticed, from the corner of my eye, my uncle eyeing me. I didn't know what to expect at all, but I knew it wasn't going to be pretty. He was known to be cruel.

"Allen, come here." He says. It was confirmed, my 17th birthday would be ruined by him, again.

"What do you need?" I asked. He looked me up and down with his eyes.
"You're grown a lot since I last saw you. We used to be able to count every rib of yours." He said. Yeah, I remember, but I was also living on like nothing, which ruined more than just my brain. I began to feel where my clothes and my skin made contact. How it felt. It didn't feel right, nothing did. The feeling of disgust came over me, I never should've eaten today. Especially not cake, what the hell was I thinking.

"Yeah, I've gotten taller, is what weird." I asked. He shrugged.
"How much do you weigh now?" He asked. That question took me by surprise. It was high, I knew that. I was tall.

"145." I said. I knew I was fine. I ate cleanly, I trained my skills in my yard, I ran. I wasn't unhealthy by any means. I knew he'd just destroy me, I knew it.

"Look at your stomach. It's not what it once was. You've got a bit of chub," He points out. "You probably shouldn't had eaten that cake, you know. It just makes you fat." He said. My face grew red. They tell you about the shift that happens when relapses begin. This urge to hate the everlasting shit out of myself came back. I looked back down at myself. It all seemed different. My legs awkwardly stuck out from the rest of myself. I had an odd shape, nothing felt that it fit right. I begin to walk away when I heard one last remark from him.

"You're not skinny anymore Allen, better watch what you eat." He said. That broke me. I quickly excused myself to pee. I ran to the upstairs bathroom and sighed. I'd only done this once before, in a dire emergency of being forced to eat something during a visit to my cousin's house, four hours away when I was 14. I put the toilet seat up, lean over the bowl, jam my fingers down my throat and let the rest happen. It burned, but I knew that was going to happen. I didn't really know when everything was up, so I just hopped on the scale and made sure it was 145 before I finished up. I washed my mouth put, then made sure no evidence was left behind and walked back out to where everyone was. My body felt slightly heavy, but I knew that was going to happen. It always did. The minute I walked near the pool, Adrian shoved me in. It took me second to realize what had happened. I got back out, then the two of us just spend the rest of the day backflipping into the pool.

Thus the relapse began.

How does it feel to stare at
Each falling grain of sand? How does it
Feel to cound them down? All by
Yourself, we tried to reset the clocks.