Okay, I’m incredibly scared and frustrated. I don’t know what to do. But I’m hoping my story can save someone.
I have always loved food. Maybe even too much sometimes. I’m by no means… overweight. I actually think of myself as quite average. I suppose every girl wants to be a bit thinner, right?
However, a couple of weeks ago I began to notice a change in my appetite. The problem is that I work as a chef, so tasting food and eating is part of my job description. That day at work I just didn’t feel like eating. Not necessarily an aversion to food yet, but just a meh feeling towards it. I decided to just trust my cooking abilities that night. Service went well, we cleaned, and I went home.
The next day I woke up to make the usual omelette I always make. Three eggs, a little tomato, a bit of chopped onion and some cilantro. Making omelets to me is like an art. When I finished I sat down to eat it, but something in me just wouldn’t let me start eating it. I had to force myself to eat every beautiful bite. I knew it was delicious but I somehow felt very reluctant.
I went to start my usual daily chores, but I must’ve overdid it at breakfast because I spent the rest of the day puking my guts out. I even had to call into work. They weren't happy about that. But, I didn’t want to tell them I was puking either. Not exactly what you want to hear from a chef.
I thought maybe I just had one of those 24 hour bugs. I told my work I was sorry about yesterday but was ready to go in now. I know it’s probably super wrong that I went to work because I might of been sick. But, at the time I didn’t really think much of it and I can’t afford too many missed days at work. My boss would probably fire me.
That day at work was horrible. Everything that I tried to taste was so bland. No matter how much seasoning I added it still tasted so bland to me. What’s strange is that multiple people complained of over-seasoning. When I tasted the returned plates, it still tasted bland to me. I was baffled. I tried to ignore my taste buds. I told my sous-chef he’d have to taste the dishes; that I smoked earlier and that it might’ve whacked out my taste buds.
I think he knows that was a lie (probably because I don’t even smoke), because he just stared back at me with eyes that said “are you okay”. I just gave him an awkward smile as if to respond “yes I am, I promise”.
I knew the next day was my day off, so I just thought to myself “get through this service and you can spend all of tomorrow relaxing”. So I pushed through service and we got it done with no further complaints about overseasoning nor blandness.
That night I got home and sat on the couch, angry at myself and the situation. I didn’t feel sick so I wasn’t sure what was going on with my taste buds. I felt perfectly fine despite the fact I hadn’t eaten much. I stopped to think about it and realized I hadn’t really had a meal since the omelette… if that even counted.
I opened my fridge for what felt like an hour, trying to think of anything I could eat. I mean everything seemed appetizing. I always kept a well stocked fridge of fresh vegetables, butter, eggs, and any other chef delights. But nothing really tickled my fancy. I closed the fridge and sat on the floor feeling angry about my appetite.
My palette was a necessary tool. Not being able to taste and being a chef is like having no limbs and being in construction. After all, it was my absolute sense of taste that got me to such a high position so quickly. I could tell freshness, where something was from , how it was prepared, all from just my mouth. I don’t mean to brag but its quite an extraordinary ability in my opinion and I’m glad it has brought me nothing but success and happiness.
Until now.
Growing angrier and angrier, I slammed open the fridge. I tasted the cream- nothing. I tasted a tomato- bland. A piece of cilantro- like old tasteless leafs in my mouth. As I grew angrier I became more and more upset. I began pulling out everything in my fridge and trying it.
Bland. Bland. Bland. Bland. Bland. Bland. Gross. Gross. Gross. Gross. Bleh. Bleh. Blah. Yuck. Ugh. DISGUSTING. PUTRID. GROSS. VILE. The apples tasted like sand. The fresh meat and vegetables began to smell rotten. The scent was making me so nauseous. Nothing was how it was supposed to be. It was all rotten and disgusting.
I began throwing it all on the ground in a flurry of anger. Tomatoes crushing under my feet. Butter melting. Eggs dropping. Raw meat in bloody chunks on the floor. I was almost done with my tantrum until I saw one last egg sitting in a corner. I don’t know what possessed me to do so, but I cracked the egg right in my mouth. I threw the shells on the floor. It actually tasted normal for a second! And then
I heard a peep.
I gagged. My mouth tasted as if it were filled with feathers and dirt. I began puking violently again. There wasn’t much in my stomach since I had spat most if it out during my fridge taste test. I crawled away from the fridge. And when I looked back, the whole pile in the dim light was grey. Lacking any color whatsoever. Freaked out, turned on the lights. And there in a huge disgusting pile of food and vomit was nothing but gray.
Confused I went to my pantry next. I pulled out a colorful box of cereal and dumped its contents on the table. Gray. Bread. Gray. Pasta. Gray. Granola. Gray Everything dumped onto the table was gray. A huge pile of nothingness. Even the rice was lacking it’s usually whiteness. It was then that I noticed it was less of a grey. It was a complete lack of color.
I must’ve passed out because I don’t remember what happened next. I woke up pretty hazy. I just remember getting a phone call from work saying someone important was coming in before the restaurant opened. They wanted me to head over ASAP and create a testing menu for some event. My head was pretty hazy so I don’t exactly remember all the details.
I just put on my chef's coat and headed there as soon as I could, closing the door on my disgusting incident from the night before.
When I got there I didn’t greet anyone and just headed straight to the kitchen. But, I quickly realized no one was probably there anyway since it was early. My head felt so dizzy. I didn’t really feel like I was there. Maybe I was just hazy from not eating. I don’t even remember what I made. I just remember cooking and putting dishes on the large table in our dinning area. I guess I didn’t really know what I was doing. I swear I didn’t.
The man arrived with woman and the manager greeted him at the door. He must’ve been in his office. Maybe I was cooking for a wedding? I can’t remember. I was finishing up the last dish and then I heard a woman scream.
I ran out, still not feeling right, to go see what happened. The woman had fainted. The man was kneeling beside her covering his mouth and holding his stomach. My manager was doing the same. My manager began screaming profanities at me. I can’t remember. He said it smelled disgusting. Something about going into the dumpster i think? Raw meat and bones and tentacles. Something like that. I can’t remember. It didn’t smell weird to me. He yelled that I was fired. I remember that part. And I just walked out feeling even more dizzy.
When I looked back at the table, it did look weird. I can’t exactly explain it.
I began walking toward my apartment, but the road began to feel so long and wide. Then from the corner of my eyes, darkness slowly began to take over my eyesight until everything was completely black.
I’m pretty sure I passed out on the ground in the middle of the sidewalk.
I woke up in the hospital with an IV drip, an oxygen mask, a beeping machine, the whole shabang. The nurse came in and smiled sweetly once she saw my eyes were a bit open.
“Good Morning. Are you feeling well enough to sit up?”
I nodded and sat up a bit, removing my oxygen mask. She handed me a cup of water. I took a small sip. In that moment my brain saw a series of images. I can’t even remember them. I don’t know why, but I threw the cup off the bed, letting it splash all over the floor. It was sort of a knee-jerk reaction so I felt kind of bad when the nurse had to clean it up. I just sunk down a bit and looked away. She cleaned up the mess. Jotted something down and left. I closed my eyes again.
I awoke to the nurse trying to set a tray of food down in front of me. I wonder when the last time I’d eaten was. Felt like forever. Then I hear a noise. I narrowed it down to tray inform of me. It was definitely making some sort of sound. Before I lifted the lid I put my ear to it and listened. I heard screaming. Small moaning yells of someone in agony and pain. In a frightened state I quickly opened the lid and the moaning began to resonate across all the walls of the room.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes. It was screeching. When I opened my eyes, I didn’t even see food. Not even the lack of color. Not even the pale outline of food. Something I can’t even put into words. It was horrifying. I threw the plate on the floor. My heart must’ve started beating real fast because I noticed the machine making even more beeping noises than usual. The nurses came rushing in. They might’ve sedated me with something because I quickly passed out.
When I woke up next, my mother was sitting next to me holding my hand. She noticed my opened eyes. “Hi sweetie, its Mom. How are you doing”
I was barely awake and nodded. “They told me what’s happening. I’m sorry sweetie. You could always talk to me about your problems, you know that right?”
I don't know why but I started crying. I just let the hot tears fall down my face. I couldn’t exactly tell her what was happening. I couldn’t even explain it myself. But just having someone there who you could trust and comfort you was more than overwhelming considering the horror I had gone through in the last couple days.
“I just want you to know that we’re gonna do everything to help you get better.”
If only they knew what was happening.
“Don’t worry about how much it will cost. I’m going to pay for it all. This facility is the best around.”
I was confused. I muttered in a low raspy voice, “I don’t want to go to a facility. I’m not sick.”
“I know honey, they said that many girls like you are very reluctant. But, you’ll make friends and be able to talk to girls who are going through the same thing.”
She stroked my hand but I pulled away.
I was sleepy, confused and annoyed. “I’m not sick.”
“I know, sweetie, I know. You’ll be able to work through your eating disorder. There are many girls who suffer from it. It’s okay sweetie. Mom will take care of it.”
I looked at her with my eyes furrowed “Eating disorder? I’m not anorexic. Look at me.” I tried to let out a little laugh.
“It’s okay, honey, just because you’re not suffering on the outside doesn’t mean you’re not suffering on the inside. I didn’t want to say anything but we found your, umm, mess in the apartment. Someone in the building began complaining of the smell.”
She must’ve noticed I was getting upset. “It’s okay, it’s okay. They’ve educated me on bulimia and binging and purging.”
I looked at my moms eyes. I didn’t know how to explain myself. How could I?
That’s how I ended up here. In this facility for girls with eating disorders. They stuck a feeding tube in me because I refuse to eat. But it’s easier to pretend this way than to tell them what’s really happening. I know they’d for sure lock me up somewhere worse. I’ve been taking the time to do research on what’s happened to me. If anyone else has gone through the same.
At the meetings, girls talk about their bodies, control and perfection. All kinds of heartbreaking stories.
But, I can’t really relate. No… not when they don’t see it. The disgusting mess. The smell. They don’t even hear the screaming.
There were times I thought I was just crazy. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I really was ill.
But the other day I saw a girl get 5150’ed. Before they dragged her away I heard her yelling “ITS GREY. IT’S SAND. IT’S GROSS. GET AWAY!.” She screamed the whole way out. I can still hear it ringing in my ears.
Now I’m worried it‘s spreading.
If anyone thinks that food has been tasting off, please contact me.
And try to get help.
Before it’s too late.
---
Credits
I have always loved food. Maybe even too much sometimes. I’m by no means… overweight. I actually think of myself as quite average. I suppose every girl wants to be a bit thinner, right?
However, a couple of weeks ago I began to notice a change in my appetite. The problem is that I work as a chef, so tasting food and eating is part of my job description. That day at work I just didn’t feel like eating. Not necessarily an aversion to food yet, but just a meh feeling towards it. I decided to just trust my cooking abilities that night. Service went well, we cleaned, and I went home.
The next day I woke up to make the usual omelette I always make. Three eggs, a little tomato, a bit of chopped onion and some cilantro. Making omelets to me is like an art. When I finished I sat down to eat it, but something in me just wouldn’t let me start eating it. I had to force myself to eat every beautiful bite. I knew it was delicious but I somehow felt very reluctant.
I went to start my usual daily chores, but I must’ve overdid it at breakfast because I spent the rest of the day puking my guts out. I even had to call into work. They weren't happy about that. But, I didn’t want to tell them I was puking either. Not exactly what you want to hear from a chef.
I thought maybe I just had one of those 24 hour bugs. I told my work I was sorry about yesterday but was ready to go in now. I know it’s probably super wrong that I went to work because I might of been sick. But, at the time I didn’t really think much of it and I can’t afford too many missed days at work. My boss would probably fire me.
That day at work was horrible. Everything that I tried to taste was so bland. No matter how much seasoning I added it still tasted so bland to me. What’s strange is that multiple people complained of over-seasoning. When I tasted the returned plates, it still tasted bland to me. I was baffled. I tried to ignore my taste buds. I told my sous-chef he’d have to taste the dishes; that I smoked earlier and that it might’ve whacked out my taste buds.
I think he knows that was a lie (probably because I don’t even smoke), because he just stared back at me with eyes that said “are you okay”. I just gave him an awkward smile as if to respond “yes I am, I promise”.
I knew the next day was my day off, so I just thought to myself “get through this service and you can spend all of tomorrow relaxing”. So I pushed through service and we got it done with no further complaints about overseasoning nor blandness.
That night I got home and sat on the couch, angry at myself and the situation. I didn’t feel sick so I wasn’t sure what was going on with my taste buds. I felt perfectly fine despite the fact I hadn’t eaten much. I stopped to think about it and realized I hadn’t really had a meal since the omelette… if that even counted.
I opened my fridge for what felt like an hour, trying to think of anything I could eat. I mean everything seemed appetizing. I always kept a well stocked fridge of fresh vegetables, butter, eggs, and any other chef delights. But nothing really tickled my fancy. I closed the fridge and sat on the floor feeling angry about my appetite.
My palette was a necessary tool. Not being able to taste and being a chef is like having no limbs and being in construction. After all, it was my absolute sense of taste that got me to such a high position so quickly. I could tell freshness, where something was from , how it was prepared, all from just my mouth. I don’t mean to brag but its quite an extraordinary ability in my opinion and I’m glad it has brought me nothing but success and happiness.
Until now.
Growing angrier and angrier, I slammed open the fridge. I tasted the cream- nothing. I tasted a tomato- bland. A piece of cilantro- like old tasteless leafs in my mouth. As I grew angrier I became more and more upset. I began pulling out everything in my fridge and trying it.
Bland. Bland. Bland. Bland. Bland. Bland. Gross. Gross. Gross. Gross. Bleh. Bleh. Blah. Yuck. Ugh. DISGUSTING. PUTRID. GROSS. VILE. The apples tasted like sand. The fresh meat and vegetables began to smell rotten. The scent was making me so nauseous. Nothing was how it was supposed to be. It was all rotten and disgusting.
I began throwing it all on the ground in a flurry of anger. Tomatoes crushing under my feet. Butter melting. Eggs dropping. Raw meat in bloody chunks on the floor. I was almost done with my tantrum until I saw one last egg sitting in a corner. I don’t know what possessed me to do so, but I cracked the egg right in my mouth. I threw the shells on the floor. It actually tasted normal for a second! And then
I heard a peep.
I gagged. My mouth tasted as if it were filled with feathers and dirt. I began puking violently again. There wasn’t much in my stomach since I had spat most if it out during my fridge taste test. I crawled away from the fridge. And when I looked back, the whole pile in the dim light was grey. Lacking any color whatsoever. Freaked out, turned on the lights. And there in a huge disgusting pile of food and vomit was nothing but gray.
Confused I went to my pantry next. I pulled out a colorful box of cereal and dumped its contents on the table. Gray. Bread. Gray. Pasta. Gray. Granola. Gray Everything dumped onto the table was gray. A huge pile of nothingness. Even the rice was lacking it’s usually whiteness. It was then that I noticed it was less of a grey. It was a complete lack of color.
I must’ve passed out because I don’t remember what happened next. I woke up pretty hazy. I just remember getting a phone call from work saying someone important was coming in before the restaurant opened. They wanted me to head over ASAP and create a testing menu for some event. My head was pretty hazy so I don’t exactly remember all the details.
I just put on my chef's coat and headed there as soon as I could, closing the door on my disgusting incident from the night before.
When I got there I didn’t greet anyone and just headed straight to the kitchen. But, I quickly realized no one was probably there anyway since it was early. My head felt so dizzy. I didn’t really feel like I was there. Maybe I was just hazy from not eating. I don’t even remember what I made. I just remember cooking and putting dishes on the large table in our dinning area. I guess I didn’t really know what I was doing. I swear I didn’t.
The man arrived with woman and the manager greeted him at the door. He must’ve been in his office. Maybe I was cooking for a wedding? I can’t remember. I was finishing up the last dish and then I heard a woman scream.
I ran out, still not feeling right, to go see what happened. The woman had fainted. The man was kneeling beside her covering his mouth and holding his stomach. My manager was doing the same. My manager began screaming profanities at me. I can’t remember. He said it smelled disgusting. Something about going into the dumpster i think? Raw meat and bones and tentacles. Something like that. I can’t remember. It didn’t smell weird to me. He yelled that I was fired. I remember that part. And I just walked out feeling even more dizzy.
When I looked back at the table, it did look weird. I can’t exactly explain it.
I began walking toward my apartment, but the road began to feel so long and wide. Then from the corner of my eyes, darkness slowly began to take over my eyesight until everything was completely black.
I’m pretty sure I passed out on the ground in the middle of the sidewalk.
I woke up in the hospital with an IV drip, an oxygen mask, a beeping machine, the whole shabang. The nurse came in and smiled sweetly once she saw my eyes were a bit open.
“Good Morning. Are you feeling well enough to sit up?”
I nodded and sat up a bit, removing my oxygen mask. She handed me a cup of water. I took a small sip. In that moment my brain saw a series of images. I can’t even remember them. I don’t know why, but I threw the cup off the bed, letting it splash all over the floor. It was sort of a knee-jerk reaction so I felt kind of bad when the nurse had to clean it up. I just sunk down a bit and looked away. She cleaned up the mess. Jotted something down and left. I closed my eyes again.
I awoke to the nurse trying to set a tray of food down in front of me. I wonder when the last time I’d eaten was. Felt like forever. Then I hear a noise. I narrowed it down to tray inform of me. It was definitely making some sort of sound. Before I lifted the lid I put my ear to it and listened. I heard screaming. Small moaning yells of someone in agony and pain. In a frightened state I quickly opened the lid and the moaning began to resonate across all the walls of the room.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes. It was screeching. When I opened my eyes, I didn’t even see food. Not even the lack of color. Not even the pale outline of food. Something I can’t even put into words. It was horrifying. I threw the plate on the floor. My heart must’ve started beating real fast because I noticed the machine making even more beeping noises than usual. The nurses came rushing in. They might’ve sedated me with something because I quickly passed out.
When I woke up next, my mother was sitting next to me holding my hand. She noticed my opened eyes. “Hi sweetie, its Mom. How are you doing”
I was barely awake and nodded. “They told me what’s happening. I’m sorry sweetie. You could always talk to me about your problems, you know that right?”
I don't know why but I started crying. I just let the hot tears fall down my face. I couldn’t exactly tell her what was happening. I couldn’t even explain it myself. But just having someone there who you could trust and comfort you was more than overwhelming considering the horror I had gone through in the last couple days.
“I just want you to know that we’re gonna do everything to help you get better.”
If only they knew what was happening.
“Don’t worry about how much it will cost. I’m going to pay for it all. This facility is the best around.”
I was confused. I muttered in a low raspy voice, “I don’t want to go to a facility. I’m not sick.”
“I know honey, they said that many girls like you are very reluctant. But, you’ll make friends and be able to talk to girls who are going through the same thing.”
She stroked my hand but I pulled away.
I was sleepy, confused and annoyed. “I’m not sick.”
“I know, sweetie, I know. You’ll be able to work through your eating disorder. There are many girls who suffer from it. It’s okay sweetie. Mom will take care of it.”
I looked at her with my eyes furrowed “Eating disorder? I’m not anorexic. Look at me.” I tried to let out a little laugh.
“It’s okay, honey, just because you’re not suffering on the outside doesn’t mean you’re not suffering on the inside. I didn’t want to say anything but we found your, umm, mess in the apartment. Someone in the building began complaining of the smell.”
She must’ve noticed I was getting upset. “It’s okay, it’s okay. They’ve educated me on bulimia and binging and purging.”
I looked at my moms eyes. I didn’t know how to explain myself. How could I?
That’s how I ended up here. In this facility for girls with eating disorders. They stuck a feeding tube in me because I refuse to eat. But it’s easier to pretend this way than to tell them what’s really happening. I know they’d for sure lock me up somewhere worse. I’ve been taking the time to do research on what’s happened to me. If anyone else has gone through the same.
At the meetings, girls talk about their bodies, control and perfection. All kinds of heartbreaking stories.
But, I can’t really relate. No… not when they don’t see it. The disgusting mess. The smell. They don’t even hear the screaming.
There were times I thought I was just crazy. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I really was ill.
But the other day I saw a girl get 5150’ed. Before they dragged her away I heard her yelling “ITS GREY. IT’S SAND. IT’S GROSS. GET AWAY!.” She screamed the whole way out. I can still hear it ringing in my ears.
Now I’m worried it‘s spreading.
If anyone thinks that food has been tasting off, please contact me.
And try to get help.
Before it’s too late.
---
Credits
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