Page 23 of Pieces of Us

I smile with myrrh. This feels like home.

The dining room is loaded with food, and while I eye off the chips and gravy, I know I can’t veer too far off the regimented eating plan that I’ve worked hard to create and maintain.

After Lincoln and Billie, I spiralled big time into a world of weight loss needles, not eating and an unhealthy fixation on exercise. I was officially diagnosed with Obesophobia, which centred on this obsession to be thin. I wanted to erase…me. I wanted to prove to Lincoln, Billie and everyone back at home who had ever bullied me, commented on my weight, and made all my fears and insecurities come to life, that I was good enough. In my mind, that equated to obsessing over perfection, and to me, perfection meant being scarily thin.

When I began the injections in my senior year, the doctor had diagnosed me ‘obese’, but as soon as I hit Los Angeles, it became apparent to me that it was much easier to be prescribed these drugs without proof. As long as I was paying them well, I didn’t need to provide paperwork, and my health was the last thing on their minds.

The sick thing was, the world—and especially people in Los Angeles—glamourised skinny.

I overserved myself with injections, exercise, and starving myself to the point of passing out. It wasn’t until Jagger witnessed me stabbing myself with a needle that he intervened and encouraged me to seek help. Dad and Mum were called straight away out of dire concern for me, and together, they helped me check into a rehab for my weight loss addiction and associated mental health issues. As a result of my lifelong body issues, my breakup with Lincoln and his relationship with Billie, my depression exacerbated. I not only lost someone I loved with all my heart; in my mind, I lost him to the antithesis of me.

Being in rehab was the toughest experience of my life. Having to deal with my emotions—hating myself, not feeling good enough for Lincoln, my inclination to workmyself to skin and bone rather than ever be that chubby girl everyone made fun of again—destroyed me in every way.

There were severe withdrawal symptoms, including appetite and food cravings returning, weight gain, my blood sugar increasing, my blood pressure rising, my cholesterol changing, and worst of all, my mood swings. I lashed out so hard at my family and staff that I have no idea how they didn’t perform an exorcism on me. Shame infiltrated every fibre of my being. For the first couple of weeks, I seemed to get worse. Since they wouldn’t let me take the weight loss medication and they practically force-fed me, I found myself doing hundreds and hundreds of sit-ups and lunges in my room. At one point, I even ran on the spot until I exhausted myself.

With gentleness, finesse and intense therapy and around-the-clock care, I had mini breakthroughs as the days went on.

After eight weeks of in-house treatment, daily individual and group counselling sessions and practical support, working with some of America’s finest doctors and health professionals, I was finally able to understand the difference between addiction and being fit and healthy.

Instead of using exercise as an escape or seeing food as the enemy, I began using exercise as a way to keep my mind focused. With a new nutritious eating plan in place, I also found myself having a better understanding of what fuels my body. I’m even at the point now where I indulge in a treat or two without guilt. I also keep a regular journal to keep my emotions in check, and I have regular sessions with my therapist via Skype while I travel. I find talking to someone helps.

With an incredible amount of courage, vulnerability, resilience and time, I can honestly say I’ve been living a sustainable, healthy lifestyle. Looking back at some of my earlier interviews, I’m sickened by the rib cage I can see jutting out,\ and the gauntness of my face. It’s any wonder how not more people around me noticed or commented on it.

Rome bumps shoulders as I reach to swipe a carrot stick through some tzatziki. ‘How are you, babes?’

‘Tired, but good.’ I grab a couple of crackers and stare around at those nearest and dearest to me. ‘Nice to be back here. I feel relaxed, so much more relaxed than I have been.’

‘Cause Ireland was so stressful,’ he jokes.

I giggle, taking a sip of my sparkling water. ‘You know what I mean. I’m not jet-setting every other day, filming content, filming my segments, doing interviews, managing all my sponsorships and business stuff. I love my friends and my life back in Los Angeles, but I’m always on the go. I always have to be on. Up with the latest trends. Always on my best behaviour.’

‘Sounds so tough.’ He rolls his eyes.

‘You’ve lived my schedule for a week. You know how exhausting it can be. It’s nice to take a time-out for a while and come back here to just veg out, eating fairy floss with my best friends while watching Married at First Sight.’

‘Amen, babes,’ Lily grins and high-fives me.

‘So, tell me what I’ve missed here? Lil, your love life hasn’t been the topic of conversation for a while. Spill it.’ Every time I’ve asked her about it the last couple of months, she’s been highly evasive—just like she’s being now.

‘Nothing to share,’ she says shortly, her eyes darting around the room as if she’s looking for a buzzing fly. Lucky for her, Rome jumps in about his latest conquest. Before I know it, I’ve eaten half a pack of Doritos and an entire mango.

I move away from the table to avoid further temptation and sit down next to Dad and Uncle Jacob, who are deep in discussion over the NRL finals coming up.

Feeling someone sit down beside me and gently touch my arm, I’m greeted by a smiling Jas, who clasps my hand in hers.

‘It’s like you never left.’ I can sense she’s ecstatic that I’m here in the flesh, and it means much more to her than she’s letting on.

‘It feels like I never did. We have so many memories together. My favourite was when we gave Linc a princess makeover.’

The light in Jas’ eyes dim a little and Uncle Jacob sucks in a breath next to me. It’s like the air has been sucked out of the room at the mention of his name. I curse myself for letting my tongue slip. I can count on one hand the number of times I have mentioned him out loud over the past six years. I’m always so careful, so it doesn’t surprise me that I’m a little rattled that the fond memory and his name slipped so seamlessly from my lips.

Clearing my throat, I ignore the tension and change the subject. ‘So, anything you need help with while I’m here? Homework? Assignments? Anything?’

Jas practically jumps into my lap at my questions. ‘Actually, yes. As you know, I want to follow in your footsteps and study journalism. I have this assignment where I need to interview another journalist and sort of turn the tables back on them. Do you think you’d be up for it?’

‘Oh, wow. Um. You want to interview me? I’m the best you can come up with?’ I’m a little overwhelmed because I’m afraid I’ll spill too much of the dark past I’ve kept hidden. I made Dad vow not to tell Uncle Jacob about my previous addictions. Only a handful of people know, and he, being Linc’s father (AKA the catalyst of my demise), is not one of them. It’s a guilt I now know I never want either of them to be burdened with.

‘You’re not serious? You’re the most famous person to ever come out of the Gold Coast. I mean, apart from Margot Robbie, who you’re practically BFFs with.’ She’s right. I am. But that still doesn’t mean I am used to being in the limelight. My cheeks tinge pink at the thought of revealing my life on camera or in print. I am still an introvert at heart, despite taking my kit off for the camera and boasting a bubbly persona while interviewing. If you really delve into what is out there about my personal life, there is hardly anything. I am a notoriously private person who manages to deflect the attention away from myself and onto others.

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