A Ballad of Love and Hate

They say admitting your problem is the first step to healing. I didn’t know if I necessarily believed that but my therapist believed it was.

While I agreed to take this step, I also told Ryan I wanted to do this while still staying in New York.

But in this Ryan insisted that we stay in touch to talk about it between the two of us as well.

“So Noah why do you think that you have an eating disorder, Noah?” Dr. Hastings, the therapist I was seeing asked me.

“It’s not that I think I’m fat,” I protested.

“Of course, but I want t know why YOU think. See, you keep saying over and over, you don’t see it as an eating disorder, but the fact of the matter is, you make yourself throw up, you skip meals, your below average weight, textbooks say this is an eating disorder,” the doctor leaned in as she spoke.

“It’s more of a control issue, I have a control issue,” I stated out loud, she took note at what I said.

“Explain to me this control issue,” she wanted me to expand.

“Well in life, you can’t control the weather, you can’t control if a boy wants to be with you or not. I can’t control what people think about my line or what people think about me. I couldn’t control what my parents did and I couldn’t control my brother. So in life, you feel out of control. Stuck in this place of chaos. But what can you control? I can control my weight. I can control that three digit number to be what I want,” I explained.

Dr. Hastings took more notes.

“And do you want a certain number?” She asked.

“Not really, if I’m a size zero, great. I can walk a runway if I wanted. But it’s not about how small I am, it’s not a pressure thing from society,” I looked out the high rise building and saw the skyline of New York.

“You said you can’t control what your parents did and you couldn’t control your brother, Noah what is it that you wanted to control of them?” She asked.

I crossed my legs on the couch. I hadn’t even told Ryan this after so many years, why would I suddenly tell her?

“I simply can’t control them,” I stated.

“Can you control Ryan?” She asked.

“No, I can’t control Ryan either,” I replied.

“But you say you’re doing this for him?”

“I’ve hurt him enough.”

“How, Noah? How have you hurt Ryan?” The doctor kept the back and forth dialogue going.

“I tried to be in control,” I said simply. I looked at my watch.

“I think we’re making progress, Noah, next session we will continue. And I want to talk to the nutritionist as well,” she said, standing up. I gathered my bag and left her office.

I made my way out to the city. I didn’t have to be at the next doctor until 3pm. I had three hours until I had to be anywhere.

I had so many thoughts running through my head.

After three years of not talking to Ryan, he was suddenly involved in my life in all ways possible. I didn’t know how I felt about that. Confused a little but at the same time happy to have him back in my life, in one way or another.

I allowed time to pass me slowly, I didn’t really have much going on until I went to my very first weigh in and meeting with a nutritionist.

Ryan said she was the best in her field. I didn’t really know what that meant.

I walked into the office and she took me back right away.

“Noah, I’m Anna, I’m so excited to work with you. I worked with Ryan before when he wanted to change his diet and we had a lot of fun together, I’m excited to work with you today,” she beamed.

“So you’re a sports nutritionist?” I questioned.

“Yes but I work with all types of people,” she smiled. I just nodded, not really wanting to be there.

Anna took my weight and wrote it down. I was 5’7” and weighed 112 pounds. I was shocked at the fact I had really dropped that much.

“Noah, your current BMI is 17.5, we want to get that back up to at least 18.5 but I’d like to see you at around 20. I know this is going to be a process but I’m going to write you up a dietary plan, I’d like you to follow but for the first week, I want you to write down everything you eat and drink, don’t worry about the calories, I actually don’t want you to look at calories at all. Anything you purge, be honest, put an asterisk next to it and how long you waited until you purged,” Anna explained. I just nodded some more.

I wish the doctors, Ryan, everyone understood that I didn’t care about calories, I didn’t do this to be thin.

I wanted one person to understand.

Anna gave me a food journal and sent me out for now. I walked out of the office, frustrated. I went straight to my apartment, not stopping for anything or anyone. My phone kept going off but I didn’t want to answer.

I was just angry at everyone.

A week later, I had my fourth therapy session, my therapist was sitting in her office waiting for me. I knew today would be a “joint session.” Meaning, someone who cared for me would be there to “help me cope.” I thought it would be my assistant or co-worker but of course I knew the reality of the situation.

It was Ryan. He flew in for one day to come to therapy for me.

“So, Noah, maybe having Ryan here will be a bad thing but maybe it will also help you open up some, share more about what we talked about last time, we’re going to feel it out,” Dr. Hastings explained.

I once more just nodded.

“So last week, we talked about control, you mentioned it’s not an eating disorder but a control disorder, you mentioned that you couldn’t control him but you hurt him by trying, do you want to talk to Ryan about that?” She asked patiently.

No. No I didn’t want to talk to Ryan about that. But I knew people would leave me alone if I would talk about it.

“I didn’t try to control Ryan physically,” I sighed. Ryan looked to me for more answers.

“So how did you try, Noah?” She asked.

“I controlled my relationship with Ryan by controlling my weight. Instead of talking about how I felt, I just felt out of control of everything and so I threw up, skipped meals,” I shrugged. The doctor nodded and wrote things down. Ryan looked at me.

“And that hurt, Ryan?” She asked him.

“It did. Because Noah was distant, she would just say I didn’t care and that was that. And then I found out she was hurting herself,” he spoke calmly.

“What was out of control in the relationship, Noah?” She pressed on.

“Everything. We were both so busy, not living in the same area a year into our relationship and he was basically unreachable often,” I shared out loud.

I never told Ryan this stuff.

“Ryan, did you feel like it was out of control?” Dr. Hastings asked.

“I mean, no. I thought that was just how it had to be. I mean, Noah left Gainesville to go to Fashion School and we knew that would be hard then my swimming career began taking off even more than it was and I was traveling and going to school so that got crazy. I thought we both had understanding, she never told me differently,” Ryan tried to look me in the eyes but I just looked at my crossed legs.

“How did controlling your weight help you with your relationship, Noah?” I was asked.

“Because it was something I could tangibly control. I couldn’t have a visible hand on Ryan or our situation. It was what it was. I couldn’t magically move school to Florida. And I could magically move his swimming career to one place,” I thought my logic was obvious and grew annoyed by the questions.

“But your family was there Noah, you can’t control them though,” Dr. Hastings pointed out, Ryan looked to me once more.

“You can’t control people, Dr. Hastings,” I sighed.

“But if you could, Noah, what would you control of your family?” She asked.

I froze. Ryan looked at me. The doctor looked at me. My face got hot.

If I didn’t share now when would I share? If I wanted them to back off, I had to do this.

“I would control my father from hurting my mother and I would control my mother to be a bolder woman. And I would control my brother from hurting me,” I kept it basic. Ryan looked at me confused again.

“Explain the hurt, Noah.”

“I think it’s rather obvious. My father, he emotionally wounded my mother everyday. Yelling at her when things weren’t right. He’s a surgeon. He was always stressed and under pressure so he took it out on my mom,” I explained.

“And what about your brother?” Ryan asked. I looked down.

“I would stop him from touching me,” I whispered, holding back the tears that were threatening to come out.

“Did he abuse you sexually, Noah?” My doctor asked. I could feel the thickness in the air. My sweater was clinging to my skin and my hair on my neck was sticky.

My eyes were burning. I knew I was about to lose control of my emotions, my desire to throw up was aching.

“Can I be excused?” I asked, choking on tears.

“No, Noah, this is what you need to overcome, you’re doing great. We’ve only had four meetings and so much is already coming out,” she said to me.

“He didn’t rape me, he never raped me,” I made clear, a tear fell down my cheek. I saw Ryan clutch onto the couch.

“But he did sexually abuse you,” the doctor wanted clarification.

I couldn’t speak. I nodded once and bursted into tears. Everything felt out of control. I sat up and went to the door when I felt those familiar strong arms wrap around me, holding me tightly.

“Noah, baby, it’s okay, I’m here, you’re fine. I have you, in this moment, I have you,” Ryan spoke to me.

“I know you feel out of control right now, Noah, particularly emotionally, we just broke down a ton of stuff you’ve never even spoken of. But I want you to work with me on this, what you’re feeling right now, see it as release. It’s out and it’s known, you don’t have to control it or hold onto it anymore, Noah, you’re free of it,” the doctor said over my sobbing.

I fell into Ryan’s embrace, crying out, getting tears and snot all over his black t shirt.

“Noah, something you can control is how you breathe right now, alright, let’s control our breathing,” the doctor said, trying to help me get it together.

Ryan kept his arms tightly around me, whispering he was here.

I finally calmed down.

“I think we need to end but Noah, you just overcame a lot. I want us to try something, every time you feel like you need to control something, I want you to snap this rubberband on your wrist ten times, okay?” The doctor handed me the rubber band and I put it around my wrist.

I took tissues and cleaned myself up before walking out of the office. Ryan held my hand and led me out.

I didn’t know what any of this even meant.

We didn’t speak the whole way to my apartment. When we got in, Ryan prepared us both a fresh salad and cut up fruit. We ate in silence. Ryan took my hand in his for the whole dinner. When we were done he cleaned up and sat on the couch with me.

“Noah, this whole time I have been trying to think of something to say. I’m sorry doesn’t feel like the right thing to say. I wish I would have known when we were dating that this happened to you, I would have been different, I wouldn’t have pushed you to sleep with me as much as I did, even now, I would be so much different. Noah, I would’ve been better for you and now, I have lost you,” he said in a defeated tone.

I positioned myself closer to him.

“You never pushed me, Ryan, you waited until I was ready. You didn’t know because I didn’t say, and maybe, maybe you only lost me for a time,” I said hesitantly.

“Come on Noah, be real,” he said.

“Ryan, I am. Right now, I think I can see that I’m only in a place to be your friend but maybe at the end but I’m not asking you to wait,” I said, softly touching my face. He brought me into his arms.

“You know I’ve been waiting for you, I still will,” he whispered.

Ryan was being so sweet and sensitive to me. He wasn’t being his arrogant, cocky, or prideful self. He had set the goofiness (which I without doubt adored) aside for a still moment. He didn’t make any sexual advances that would piss me off.

He was being the Ryan I needed in this moment.

And it became more clear.

I was still in love with Ryan Lochte.