Art by Manik n' Ratan
Food is what I'm obsessed with. Repelled by. Drawn to. Annoyed at. Food was scarce when I was little, and plentiful when I was a teenager and lived in Germany, and scarce again when I returned to Russia and ran away from home and lived on my own, and then crazy, unbelievably abundant when I moved to US. Food was my weapon at times to control those who hurt me by not eating, and it was a source of comfort and fear when it was there, fear that someone would take it before I could eat it.
I was never deprived of food on purpose. It was more of an eat-while-it's-there kind of game. You snooze, you loose. From my mom's account I spit out her tit when I was 6 months old. From the facts, I had to be given a blood transfusion in a hospital when I was about 9 months old (or something) because I have developed dystrophia due to malnutrition. Did nobody feed me? I don't know. The arguing parties blame each other and in the end blame me for not eating.
My grandma told me stories how my great grandma danced in front of me to make me eat while I silently cried into soup. I don't remember that, but I do remember mom overturning a plate of soup on my head one time and laughing. My other grandma told me a story of how I ate a whole roast chicken alone in the park. She brought it for me to take it home and I told her if I took it home, it'd be all eaten and I wouldn't get anything. She must've been exaggerating, because how could I fit a whole chicken in my skinny body??