While I was in residential treatment, my Scrabble games with my mom slowed down. We both lingered over our turns, taking longer than usual to make the next move. Normally I rush to play my turn, keeping the tab open on my screen and the notification email in my inbox to rile up my OCD and force me into action. But when I was undergoing treatment, I didn’t want to engage with my mother; I wanted her to know how furious I was with her.
For Catapult, Sonia Weiser writes about her relationship with her mother and her eating disorder, filtered through countless games of Scrabble.
