Coming Clean - Living with OCD. Hayley Leitch
the next few hours we wandered around but all the time I was constantly alert, watching and waiting for someone to attack us. I couldn’t relax and enjoy myself because inside I felt so anxious. I prayed the day would end.
‘You’re quiet, Hayley.’ Mum remarked as we walked along.
It was true; I’d hardly said a word because I was too busy worrying.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ she said suddenly, ‘Let’s go to McDonalds.’
Lauren whooped with delight and so did Zara because having lunch at McDonalds was a huge treat. I longed to feel as excited only I couldn’t because I knew McDonald’s was where teenagers hung out and I was terrified there’d be gangs waiting for us.
This is it, this is where the attack will happen, the voice warned.
As soon as we pushed the door open my stomach clenched. It was Saturday and the place was heaving with hordes of teenagers. My throat constricted and seemed to close – I felt intimidated just being there. Although I followed the others inside my immediate thought was I’m not eating in here.
‘What are you all having then?’ Mum asked.
My heart was banging as if it was too big inside my chest and the palms of my hands felt clammy. The last thing I wanted to do was eat. I couldn’t eat because of the teenagers, but also because I’d have to eat in front of strangers. I’d just walked into my worst nightmare. Lauren and Zara were hungry and ordered a burger and fries quickly, and then it was my turn. Mum turned to face me, she was waiting. My eyes nervously darted around looking at them all sitting on plastic chairs, perched against bright plastic tables. It was really busy, crammed with people talking and eating. My stomach turned.
It was too busy.
‘Err, I’m not hungry,’ I said casting my eyes downwards so that Mum wouldn’t see me lying.
‘Come on, Hayley, you haven’t eaten for hours; you must want something?’
Lauren turned to look and I felt my face flush. I was hot and embarrassed, trapped inside McDonald’s, with too many people and too many pairs of eyes watching me. Mum didn’t understand and refused to take no for an answer. I started to panic because the long queue had dispersed quickly and now we were next in line.
‘Can I help?’ A smiley girl behind the till called, beckoning us forward.
My heart was thumping so loud that I wondered if anyone else could hear it.
Why did I feel so scared?
Mum placed the order and turned to me, along with Lauren and Zara. Even the girl behind the till looked at me. They were all standing there, waiting for me to decide. I felt under pressure. The palms of my hands were wet as though they were slowly melting.
‘Hayley?’ Mum asked.
I had to pick something, anything to stop them from looking at me. Images of food on the illuminated sign above the till whirred and blurred before my eyes – there was too much to choose from. Someone tutted loudly behind – I had to make a decision and I had to make one quickly.
‘I’ll have the chicken,’ I blurted out.
It was the first thing to come into my head. I heard a collective sigh of relief from my family and even the girl behind the till as she bleeped in the final part of the order. Mum told us to go and find somewhere to sit. My eyes scanned the room; I need a table – one where I could eat without facing strangers, but Lauren had other ideas. She ran over and plonked herself down in an empty seat right next to the window and Zara followed.
‘Here?’ I asked, slightly appalled.
Lauren and Zara looked up at me.
‘Yeah, here,’ Lauren huffed.
‘Err, there must be somewhere else,’ I said, looking around.
Only there wasn’t because nowhere else was free. I was stuck – in full view of the window and everyone inside the restaurant. I flopped down into the seat opposite and felt utterly miserable as I glanced out of the window. A passing gang of teenage boys caught my gaze and stared back at me. My stomach cramped because it felt like a living hell.
‘I think we should move,’ I said, suddenly getting up.
Lauren refused to budge.
‘I’m not moving,’ she said, folding her arms.
I was just about to argue when Mum slid the red plastic tray onto the table in front of us.
‘There you go,’ she said breezily. ‘I bet you’re all starving.’
But I wasn’t hungry, I felt sick to my stomach. As the others tucked into their food I stared hopelessly out of the window. I was surrounded by my family but I’d never felt so alone. I just wanted to be normal; to be able to rip open the bag and eat my food like everyone else, only I couldn’t because something was stopping me. I couldn’t see it or touch it but it was as real as the people sitting next to me. It was a fear of being judged and talked about, a fear of eating the food in front of me. I grabbed the top of the brown paper bag and scrunched it down with my fingers.
‘Aren’t you hungry?’ Mum asked.
‘Not really. Would it be okay if I took it home and warmed it up for later?’
Mum sighed and put her burger down on the greaseproof wrapper. It took all the strength I had to smile but I needed to reassure her. I didn’t want her worrying because I did enough of that for everyone. I couldn’t tell her the real reason that I was too scared to eat in front of people. At home I knew everything would be okay because back home, everything was familiar and safe.
‘Okay,’ Mum finally agreed. ‘I’ll warm it up in the microwave.’
I carried the little brown bag around in my hand for the rest of the afternoon. Hunger pangs gripped me as the hours passed but still I refused to eat or even take a nibble. The chicken and chips were stone cold and looked a little congealed by the time we’d reached home but I didn’t care. I placed my food on a plate inside the microwave and watched as the light blinked on and the meal turned around and around.
‘Careful,’ Mum said taking it out and putting it down on the table in front of me. ‘It’s really hot. Don’t burn yourself!’
The chicken didn’t taste as good as I knew it would’ve back in the restaurant but at least I could eat it without worrying.
On our next visit to McDonalds I brought my food home again to warm up inside the microwave. But this time, I only took a bite before I had to run straight to toilet where I was sick. I felt wretched because I thought I’d finally found a way to beat the fear, only I hadn’t. Instead, like the food inside the bag, it’d just packed itself up and followed me home.
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