ARFID
A Poem for the Snacktime Sonata Challenge
Chemicals in a can.
There's no tagline about containing
Real Cheese
Because there's no semblance
Of anything real,
And to say so would be a lie,
Not a stretch of the truth.
(And the Corporations
Can only stretch the truth
Or they'll be in trouble.)
The can is midnight blue--
Mom's favorite color.
The writing pops off,
The warms of the reds and yellows and whites
Contrasted against a cool backdrop.
~
We called it "sprinkle cheese"
Because who has time to say
"Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Cheese Powder™?"
It goes on matzah,
Popcorn,
Baked potato,
Even asparagus.
But mostly it goes on bread.
White bread and sprinkle cheese.
No nutritional value.
Processed "foods" that probably
Give you Cancer.
But a delicious snack.
The best snack.
My favorite snack.
~
It went off the shelves.
It was almost a Tragedy.
But for ten years,
Grandma provided.
Cans of sprinkle cheese for birthdays,
For Hannukah,
And for the times in between.
She said she called the company
And asked for the cans
And they gave them to her.
Just like that.
~
As a kid I never asked.
I just knew that she Loved Me
And so I had my sprinkle cheese.
But now I wonder:
How does a little old lady
In Englewood, Colorado
Ring up a multi-billion dollar,
International Corporation
And get them to mail her
Cans of sprinkle cheese,
Not by the store-load,
Not by the case,
But by just three or four
(a sprinkling, perhaps?)
At a time?
~
She must have told them that there was
A Child
Who ate only two foods
For the first few years of her life,
A Child
Who was in food therapy by age 4
Because she took 45 minutes
To eat a half sandwich
Made of bread and butter and cheese
Because that was three foods
And three foods meant three textures
And that was just
Too Many Textures
And also there were so many toys
In that sterile room
And why eat
[avoidant]
When you can play?
~
She must have told them that there was
A Child
Who loved noodles
More than anything,
But if there was a single drop of sauce
Anywhere near the plate,
The noodles were Ruined
And could not be eaten,
Just as fruits and vegetables
Or any two foods on a plate that
Touched each other
Could not be eaten
[restrictive]
Because they were
The Wrong Texture
And the Right Texture
Did not exist.
~
She must have told them that there was
A Child
Who would not eat at mealtimes
(Aren't mealtimes just
A societal construct?)
If she wasn't hungry
Because you should rely on your body,
Not a clock,
To tell you when food is needed,
A Child
Who did not know what hungry was
Because hunger felt the same as nausea
And eating when nauseous
[food intake]
Makes you vomit
So food consumption better be avoided,
Just to be safe.
~
She must have told them that there was
A Child
Who for over four years
Returned the foods in her packed lunch,
Lovingly prepared by her Mother,
To the cabinet.
A Child
Whose dinner napkin,
Politely, primly, and properly folded in her lap,
Held bites of meat and vegetables,
Waiting to be surreptitiously thrown
Into the garbage
[disorder]
Instead of into a stomach,
Because throwing out food was bad,
But eating was worse.
A Child
Who decided that 74 pounds was
A perfectly acceptable weight to be,
Even if others thought it was
Too Low,
Because at 74 pounds she was
Skinny
And the world said that
Skinny meant pretty.
(And when Micah S.
From Creative Writing Class
Grabbed my wrist
To comment on how tiny it was,
I acted annoyed,
But my heart jumped
And my skin tingled
Because he noticed me
And small was beautiful.)
~
I think
Maybe
The cans were a gift
Not just to me
But to my parents as well,
The people struggling with
The challenges of raising
A Child with
Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder.
(A self-diagnosis, admittedly,
Courtesy of the DSM-V,
But isn't it beautiful
When all of the sudden
Five little letters
Sum up a Lifelong Struggle
In its entirety?)
Because all they needed
To get this sick Child
With absolutely no sense of Self-Preservation
To eat something,
Anything,
Was a piece of plain white bread
And a sprinkling of chemicals
From a midnight blue can.
About the Creator
Rachel Hannah Fendrich
Veterinary technician, godmother, cat mom, and world traveler.
Reader insights
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Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
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Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
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Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (22)
Congratulations for top story 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉. "You have an incredible knack for bringing out the beauty in everything you do. Your passion is infectious
Rachel, this is some amazing writing. There wasn't just a sprinkling of truth, there was a whole dollop of it! Love it and congrats on TS - well deserved.
Nice Poem
Congrats on Top Story!🥳🥳🥳
Your writing skillfully captures the challenges and victories of living with ARFID, illuminating the nuanced feelings and difficulties associated with eating and food problems.
Congratulations, as someone who has battled a different version of an eating disorder, this poem brought tears to my eyes
I have a much more mild version of ARFID and I’m so glad to see it finally talked about!! When people hear “eating disorder” they usually think of anorexia or bulimia without realising how many different types there are and how different each one is. You did an exceptional job of representing this, raising awareness and invoking emotion. So sorry for your awful experience with this but your Grandma sounds absolutely lovely. Congrats on a really well deserved top story.
ODE TO SPRINKLE CHEESE AND ALL OF THE SPRINKLES ONTO A MEATBALL AND BREAD!
This delicate poem punched me in the gut, in the best and worst and most meaningful ways. A friend of mine from long ago died of anorexia and this poem dropped me right into the last months of her struggle. Thank you for your brave, honest, deceptively simple storytelling. Congratulations also on Top Story!
Thank you for sharing this part of your journey. This poem does what I think the best poems do- create a window into a corner of the writer's life and soul. Really beautiful and powerful! Congrats on Top Story :)
Sometimes it's the thing with absolutely no value whatsoever that delivers us from our self-destructive tendencies. The way you began so lightly reminiscing, then shifting into the serious disfunction you were suffering & the concerns of your family over the obsessions/avoidance/self-restrictions of your childhood & youth, was powerfully effective.
I think I'll break if I have to pull out a quote to highlight. There's too much. ' This is SO GOOD. You structured the verses primarily with repetitions, but whoa did you do it masterfully. To start with how the speaker's grandmother came to possess the discontinued sprinkle cheese and then introduce the concept of ARFID through italicized snippets and snatches of memories (my favorite is the part where Micah grabbed your wrist -- SO vivid)....Just wow. it's working so well for all that simplicity of technique, yet complexity of content, theme, emotions. Of course the grandmother did not tell them all of that; the reader knows that. But do we? Because we're finding out in a similar, incredulous way as the corporation must have in order to keep sending the product to her. I feel almost like grandmother must have, to want the speaker to eat anything, whatever it was, just because she needed to. The grandmother convinced me that chemicals, despite their negative acknowledgement in the beginning, were the speaker's saving grace. And to that I say, THIS BETTER PLACE. 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
Well written and so insightful! There are memories and textures, feelings and fears. I loved this piece! Congrats on top story!
wow, well done . when I was a kid, all I wanted to eat was a bologna sandwich. drove my parents nuts! but they struck up a deal. I could have my bologna the following day if I ate my dinner that night. I picked at it for hours (no joke) but finally the last morsal was gone and my bologna sandwich was saved.
I love how you interspersed other memories and experiences between descriptions of the food itself. Fantastic job and well-deserved top story.
Oh what a story you have shared about your eating....I loved it! So well written. I think your grandma didn't call the company - she told you that. She scoured stores and bought it up as she found it - Big Lots and the other stores that would have it when the grocers quit carrying it. At least she got it and you could love the food you loved!!
This is an amazing piece, I was captivated by your experience beginning to end.
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Wow, this was great... I’ve been reading about this a good bit lately. I think you wrote this difficult story and topic so well and so creatively. ❤️
A stunningly heartbreaking subject and you crafted it with heart ❤️
WOW. Rachel, this is heartbreaking, heartwarming, beautiful, emotionally-charged, all kinds of things. Congrats on Top Story and a fine entry into the challenge. Loved this so much, the subject matter, the formatting and way you drew the subject out...just...yeah. Well done. You have a new subscriber.
Excellent read about the struggles of dealing with ARFID. 'A Child... Who did not know what hungry was Because hunger felt the same as nausea... And eating when nauseous [food intake]... Makes you vomit So food consumption better be avoided, Just to be safe." I know someone who almost certainly has ARFID and came to the same conclusion... not a great long term solution! As in your poem, the food they are willing to eat, may not be an ideal diet, but they need to eat something... and that's a start!