Eating Alone
I have what they call a Rare Disease. I’ve struggled with it since the age of five. A very painful autoimmune condition when there are flare ups. I like to tell people that were it not for my attraction to food I’d have died of starvation because, most days, it simply hurts to eat or drink. And my condition is made all the more pronounced because I am also autistic with hypersenses, I have not had a single day of drug-free remission, unlike many others with the same condition but without autistic hypersensitivity. Everything is a stressor, and I live in a constant state of heightened anxiety. The activity of eating is a complex ritual that I have developed, coping with the excruciating pain juxtaposed against my passion for the sensations that food-ing bring. And I love eating alone, without company, because it is the only time I truly experience the highs and lows of eating without pretext at all. When I eat with others, I have to engage in a performance, I cannot openly acknowledge the interplay between the pain and the satisfaction. I only eat with others when the pain levels are not so severe and can be controlled by painkillers.