TW: Fear foods, body dysmorphia.

─ Your stomach twisted with hunger. Shivers ran down your spine as you observed the aseptic walls of your home with a trembling stomach, which was squeezed between your fingers almost as if you wanted to tear out its entrails. Your fingers dug deep in an attempt to shape the flesh and tear away any trace of fat; your head was spinning and you felt as strong as the storm that was upsetting everything outside, yet weak. You felt nothing more than overwhelmed by the frozen snow, destined to d!e under it.

You observed its crystalline consistency that was perfectly visible to the naked eye every time someone passed over it with work boots and that you could see from the window of your room, just below your usual desk. You imagined yourself falling softly on that bed of snow, raising your eyes to the sky and letting those little flakes of sugar caress your cheeks and fall on your nose in all their sticky consistency. Then you would laugh and lie there on that cold carpet for a while longer — or at least, not until someone appeared in front of you, wearing the usual gray jacket and jeans tight around the thighs, probably with the hood up and a smile on their face as they took your hand to lift you up — to get lost in that chaos for a while.

Your thoughts were as if knocked out by a car when a noise at the front door woke you from them. The way you turned your head towards the wooden door to observe its details, as you usually did when you were trying to pay attention to something with your heart in your throat and a feeling of trembling in your legs, made it clear that you were not expecting anyone and that consequently, you were not expecting a visitor either. Then, a simple word whispered as if with honey on the lips, made you relax your shoulders and move closer to the door: your name.

You found yourself like this, Ellie in front of the door, with a plate covered with parchment paper on top with the intention of preserving its contents and her hair full of snowflakes. She let her eyes slide down your body from top to bottom and noticed the extreme paleness due to the lack of food. She looked at you as if she were judging you, to let you know how stupid she considered you, even if in an affectionate tone. Ellie cared too much about you. She understood your discomfort and came to your aid as she could; So you made room for her to enter and a strange, almost nauseating smell made you turn up your nose. It was food.

Ellie: «I took some before the others devoured everything.»

She began, with the slow breathing of someone who knew how to measure out her words well. When she took off her hood, she remained observing your house with curious eyes and parted lips. The plate still in her hands as she waited for you to pick it up and remove the film to review the contents, sure that you were hungry. There were several occasions, in fact, in which Ellie noticed your physical change. And you, you had becoming more and more distant from the world. Because in that moment, even doing the simplest things had become complicated. You had become nothing and that made you feel so miserable.

«...It's your favorite. »

─

But what is the condition of selectivity fo0d? Those affected by it often suffer from discomforts such as the emotional impossibility of tasting new things, because they are too attached to those they already know and that give them a sense of comfort and security. In many cases, they ignore the ingestion of certain things also because of their consistency or color and they try to avoid its absorption at all costs even in social situations. Eating things that are not considered safe for those affected, causes deep anxiety and anguish. This condition not only ruins the patient's relationship with what he ingests, but also with those around him. The factor is not always linked to a body, but there may be cases in which the patient tends to avoid certain foods for fear, hiding behind what they know and consider safe in terms of cal0ric intake.