#(it stands for Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder)

[labyrynth]

(ambiguous mention of non-standard eating disorder)

my mom asked me about treatment the other day and i am just. so not ready for something like that, let alone something i would want anyone else involved in, but.

i mentioned the picky eater’s recovery book to her and she ordered a copy. and it arrived.

and like. it’s something that i would like to work on. i don’t hate the way i exist by any means, but it would sure be a lot easier and more fun if it wasn’t something i had to worry about.

like i’ve wanted to go to japan since middle school, and it would be so much more enjoyable if i actually, you know. could eat rice.

and like omelettes look so good and sausages smell amazing, so like. i would really like to be able to actually eat them someday.

the thought of all of the work and anxiety that i would have to force myself to push through, though…it’s just so overwhelming.

i’m not really going anywhere with this. i just wanted to get some weird feelings off my chest.

[starlitvases]

I want to talk about my experience at Timberline Knolls, an all-women's residential facility located in Lemont, Illinois.

On July 9th of this year, I checked into my local psych ward and was eventually placed into the car of Timberline Knolls about two weeks later. My admission date was July 25th and my discharge was August 24th. I was placed on Pine Lodge, but was merged into Willow due to staffing and patient enrollment. There were many positives to the experience, but also negative ones.

For the positives, I was able to get my suspicions on Dissociative Identity Disorder confirmed. I learned I was diagnosed with an eating disorder, Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder, and I learned some extra coping skills. I was an active journaler and kept a notebook and puzzle book everywhere I went. I was often the BHAs' favorite resident because I was respectful, active in the process, and kept myself away from fights. I had a resident confess to a BHA that they were very anxious about talking to people and fitting it. That BHA's first recommendation to the resident was to talk to me because I was so welcoming. I still keep in touch with that resident to this day. I made many friends that I still commune with, even though we're all states away now. I was often told that I was the best person to rely on because I stood up for myself, kept myself out of trouble, and was very compassionate towards anyone that needed a listening ear. Overall, I found the peer-support, BHAs, and therapists to be overwhelmingly positive and productive in my care.

As for the negatives, I found they were the same for some other patients. For those of us that struggled with physical disabilities, nurses tended to ignore us or were reluctant to provide us with physical care. I was diagnosed with POTS in May of this year and have had the symptoms for well over two years. I knew fainting was a possibility. Because of the summer heat, I was fainting around three times per day, on average. This was especially bad because I am an Alaska resident that only had a previous history of fainting three times per week. I suspect the drastic weather and pressure changes impacted my POTS and pushed it to the extreme. I was told by a nurse that, "if you keep fainting, TK might not be the best fit for you." Another patient there had Diabetes and needed insulin to live. At one point, she was denied an insulin injection by a nurse, who also denied a blood sugar check. I'm unsure of the rest of the details, but I do know that the patient ultimately signed a 72-Hour Release due to how staff regularly mishandled her disability.

Overall, I found the experience to be mostly positive and helpful for my mental health. I haven't had suicidal thoughts or urges in a few months since my release. My friends and close family have noticed a massive difference in my demeaner and overall outlook on life. I'm starting to understand my dissociative symptoms more than ever before. After over a decade and therapy treatments that failed to work, Timberline Knolls finally made a dent in helping to heal my mental health and trauma.

I'd recommend this place to any woman (cis or trans) or nonbinary individual struggling with drug addiction, an eating disorder, traumatic past, or other mental health issue. The only people I would not recommend it to are people with physical disabilities that moderately to severely impact their physical health, such as a fainting disorder, blood sugar issues, bone fracture, etc.

If you have an ESA, you are allowed to bring them with you provided you submit the required paperwork. During my month stay, I saw two ESA dogs on my lodge. My only advice is to be aware and respectful to those that have an allergy or phobia to dogs.

Trans women, you are welcome there. I'm unsure as to if the screening is different for trans women compared to cis women, but I did see at least two self-identifying trans women during my stay, one of which was still masc presenting as she was very early in the transitioning process. I still talk to her to this day, and as far as I'm aware, she hasn't reported any problems with TK.

If you're struggling with mental health or an addiction and you think a residential program may be beneficial to you, go for it. It has helped me tremendously and I cannot thank TK enough for helping me out.

[pastorpresent]

tw: abuse, eating disorders, mentions of alcoholism

One of Wade's earliest memories was being four years old, sat at the half rotten kitchen table, sobbing hysterically over the food on his plate - all while his parents screamed at each other in the background.

"He needs to fucking learn, we're too poor for his fussy ass to waste food!"

His dad, getting in his mother's face, hands curled into fists as a warning, or a threat.

"I know, but he's not gonna fucking eat otherwise, and you heard that doctor. He's underweight as it is! I've got his chicken nuggets in the freezer-"

A smack, and the reverberating sound didn't even make Wade flinch anymore. He was kicking his tiny feet, trying to lift the fork to his mouth to end all of this, but it's like his body just... couldn't do it.

He was trying to be a good boy. He really was. He didn't want mommy getting hurt because he couldn't be good. It wasn't fair.

"Eat, Wade. Now," and that was definitely a threat, the words growled in his face, and Wade let out a sob as he quickly shoved the forkful past his quivering lips.

"You don't move from this fucking seat until this plate is empty. We clear?"

The grip on his arm hurt, but he knew if he tried to squirm away it would only tighten.

"Y-yes sir," he hiccuped, and his dad smirked, triumphant. As if he'd won, and his tiny self couldn't explain it but it made him feel like crying harder.

It took two hours, and tiny bites, but he finished the meal.

He didn't feel right the rest of the night. It was gone and done, but he felt utterly sick, like he needed the food and the taste out of him, and it didn't matter how many times he scrubbed his teeth with his spongebob toothbrush, up on his tippy-toes to reach the sink, the taste wouldn't fade.

He'd ended up spewing the meal back up a few hours later. He hated throwing up because of how shaky and weak it made him feel, and yet that night? He'd been practically giddy to have the food out of him.

It was the first time, but it wasn't the last. It may of been his earliest memory, but he had hundreds more exactly like it as a kid. Sat at that stupid table. The plate in front of him. Tears in his eyes.

Half the time, he'd just take the beating. At least he could settle after that, and not agonise for hours over the foods presence in his stomach until he was able to get it the fuck out.

He expected to grow out of it, as he hit his teens. He did start actually trying new foods, to usually poor results. His grandmother had scoffed, labeled him 'fussy', her eyes as disapproving as her sons. Wade had accepted the label, wore it with a twinge of embarrassment- because while he was good at not taking himself seriously, it still sucked ass not to be able to order off the adult menu in most restaurants and to turn down completely normal adult snacks because he couldn't stand certain textures or tastes.

He never grew out of it, in the end, but the list of foods he deemed as 'safe' did expand just a little.

It wasn't until he was older and they learnt about neurodivergence in health class that he ever heard a description accurate to his relationship with food. Avoidant restrictive food intake disorder. ARFID.

Wade had scribbled it down in his textbook, and ended up being late home from school that day because he was busy looking it up in the school library.

He could've cried with relief, honestly. A word. A diagnosis, even if he'd never get an official one. He wasn't some unique, one person freak show. It was a disorder. A disorder a lot of people suffered with.

He still struggled, but it was nice to have that layer of understanding.

His mutation made it worse. Changed the texture of his mouth, his tongue, and so things that had once been safe no longer were. He was practically starting from scratch, but he managed.

He got his ramen. His chicken nuggets. His boxed mac and cheese.

It was all fine and dandy and hey - on the plus side, the nutrionless crap he was eating couldn't kill him now! Unless heart disease could beat out regenerative healing, but when he considered how often Logan must've destroyed his liver by now - he figured he'd be fine.

Well, it was all fine until Logan moved in.

Him and Al never really 'cooked". They'd get take out, where Wade could get exactly as he wanted, or if not they didn't really eat together. Al would have whatever she was having, and Wade would knock himself up something of his own, and other than an occasional lighthearted comment about Wade having the dietary choices of a toddler, not much else was said. Al's comments didn't bother him anyway, because he knew they weren't insults. Didn't sting like his father's words.

He did their grocery shop too, so it all worked out fine.

When Logan moved in, he wanted to be helpful. He was struggling to find a job that would take him without a social security number or any form of identification that didn't technically belong to a man everyone knew to be dead. It meant he couldn't contribute to the rent and bills, and Wade knew he felt guilty about that even if he'd told him a million times over that it didn't matter.

He loved having Logan around. He'd pulled him from his own universe to be here. Giving him a roof over his head and sharing his bed while Al took the pullout really wasn't a big deal, and absolutely not something Logan had to repay him for.

He started taking on the domestic duties around the house as a way of payment anyway. The apartment had never been cleaner, that's for sure, and he took Mary Puppins on all of her walks.

It was fine. Everything was fine. Until Wade had came home from work one day and found that Logan had took it upon himself to go stock up on groceries, and cook dinner.

Wade hated how nervous seeing someone standing over a fucking stove made him. He knew a psychiatrist would probably give some dumb spiel about PTSD and unresolved trauma, but Wade just felt like a fucking idiot, freezing up in his own kitchen at the sight of Logan cooking and humming along to their old, shitty radio.

"Hey, how was work?" Logan glanced up from the steaks sizzling in the pan.

Wade needed to get it the fuck together. He couldn't let Logan realise how pathetic he truly was.

"Fine, dull," he replied with a shrug, hanging up his jacket and trying to quell the rising panic, but the smell alone was a lot and he could already feel his body tensing up, his fight or flight kicking in, and he wanted to scream and rip his own skin off because it was so fucking dumb.

"You alright, bub?" Logan asked, pulling Wade from his thoughts.

He nodded.

"Yeah I- need to shower," he excused, figuring it was a good enough reason to dip out and try to get a fucking grip.

"Alright," Logan said, eyebrow raised, "well dinners probably gonna be ready in twenty minutes or so."

Wade nodded, plastering on his best grin, "can't wait, peanut," he said, before quickly rushing out the room.

//

He felt like he was walking into the lions den, entering the kitchen. The shower and ten minute self pep talk did very little to fill him with confidence. Logan and Al were already sat at the table. Mary Puppins waited eagerly at their feet.

"There, the fuckers here. Can we eat now?" Al demanded, and Logan rolled his eyes but he was wearing one of those almost fond smiles, "go ahead."

Wade took his usual seat next to Logan, between him and Al, and picked up his knife and fork, staring down at the plate. Steak, mashed potatoes and green beans.

A normal fucking meal for an adult, and yet Wade felt his stomach tying itself into intricate knots just looking at it.

Al and Logan were chatting about the movie they'd watched last night, but their voices were muffled and distant. He scooped up a tiny bit of the potatoes, shoving it in before he could change his mind, forcing his throat to work and swallow it quickly. He could still taste it, could feel the texture imprinted onto his tastebuds.

He could do this. He could. Just get through one measly meal, and it would be fine. He already knew how strange he came across, and it was an honest to God miracle that Logan had stuck around - what if this was the final straw? Watching Wade waste the perfectly good meal he'd stood and cooked for him in favour of something beige and cooked in the microwave?

If he was going to lose Logan, it would have to be for a hell of a better reason than that.

He kept going, so focused on getting the food down that he missed the worried glances Logan was throwing his way.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but his thoughts were interrupted by the clattering of silverware.

"That was delicious. Who knew your dumbass could actually cook a meal?" Al commented, and when Wade looked up both of their plates were clear. He looked back to his own. At the single missing green bean, and pitiful dint in the mashed potatoes. The hardly distinguishable sliver of missing steak.

"I'm two hundred years old, picking up some hobbies here and there becomes a necessity to maintaining sanity," Logan shrugged, smiling, but it didn't feel like it was fully a joke and it only made Wade feel that much more guilty.

"Well, it's Wade's turn for dishes so I'm off to bingo. Don't wait up," Al left the table, barely side stepping Mary Puppins, and Wade could feel Logan's eyes on him now.

He didn't dare meet his gaze, forcing a bite of steak past his lips.

"What's up with you? You not into steak?"

There was no bite behind the words, and yet they made his breathing pick up all the same.

"I- I am, it's- good, honest. Thank you," he said, taking another bite, ignoring his body's protests, suppressing the shiver.

"Wade. Look at me," his head snapped to Logan. He was already in trouble. If he started being bad and not listening, it would hurt more, and he couldn't-

"Hey," Logan's voice was oddly soft when he spoke, but firm enough to get his attention. He reached over, pushed Wade's hands down gently, uncurled his fingers from their white knuckled grip around the cutlery.

Wade watched him do it, utterly confused.

"I'll eat it. I will, I'm trying," he hated the childlike panic that had taken over his brain. He felt like that four year old again, staring at his plate with a wobbling lip and damp eyes.

But he felt helpless to stop it.

"Do you not like it?" Logan asked.

Wade was biting his lip hard enough that he tasted blood, "it's... thank you. For making it for me."

"That's not an answer bub," Logan hummed, "do you like it or no?"

Wade chewed the torn skin of his bottom lip. Shook his head once. Tried to get his body to calm the fuck down.

Logan reached over. Wade flinched, cringing in on himself, eyes squeezed shut, bracing for an impact that never came. Instead he just used his thumb to release the lip Wade was using as a chew toy from between his teeth.

"Ok, that's alright. No worries, yeah? You want me to make you some of that ramen stuff you like instead?"

"I- I have food, you cooked me it, I shouldn't..." he trailed off when his throat felt tight.

"And you don't like it, which is completely fine. I'll clean up, you go sit on the couch and I'll bring you some ramen in soon."

"Logan-"

"Wasn't a request, bub. Go pick us a movie to watch," Logan stood, piling up all three plates, and Wade could've cried with relief honestly.

He got up and went to the couch, picking out Shaun of the Dead and sticking it in the pink Hello Kitty DVD player he'd scored years ago at the thrift store. He sat down, but his leg was bouncing like crazy and he couldn't get his eyes to focus.

Logan said it was fine, he reminded himself. He wasn't angry. But what if he was lying? What if he was just trying to lure him into a false sense of security? Make that first hit hurt even harder?

His dad had done that, in the past. Wade never understood why. Boredom, maybe? The same cycle of screaming at him, beating him bloody, rinse and repeat probably got old he supposed.

By the time Logan came over, bowl of noodles in hand, Wade was struggling through a fully fledged panic attack.

"I'm sorry, sorry, I'll- been bad, I'm sorry," he couldn't stop shaking, his breath punched out of him as he curled in on himself, burying his head in his knees which he pulled up tightly to his chest.

'You're a little pussy, no fucking son of mine. Stop hiding, boy!'

"Wade, Wade no. I'm not angry, you didn't do anything bad," he felt the couch dip next to him, and an arm wrapped around his back, pulling him against the solid warmth and familiar scent of Logan.

"I'm sorry," he didn't feel capable of saying anything else, and Logan shushed him softly, reaching out to grasp his hand, "it's fine, really. Look at me, sweetheart."

Wade reluctantly lifted his head, looking over at the older man who's face was filled with a genuine concern.

He hated that. Hated that he was so much of a fucking freak, making Logan worry about him because he couldn't get a damn grip on his own thoughts. He knew comforting people wasn't something that Logan necessarily enjoyed, and it was ridiculous and unfair for him to have to do it over something so small and dumb.

"I-"

"Shhh, just breathe. In and out. Slowly," Logan guided, emphasising his own, his thumb rubbing gentle circles around Wade's shoulder.

Wade copied. Eventually, he felt his body relaxing somewhat. He didn't realise he was leaning so heavily against him, eyes slipping closed, until one of Logan's arms wrapped around his waist.

His cheeks burned, but Logan wasn't pushing him off, and there was something soothing about his body heat and listening to the beat of his heart, even if it was muffled by the metal binded to his ribcage.

He wasn't sure how long he lay snuggled into Logan's side, but eventually he felt able to speak a bit more, his throat not so tight and brain not so crowded.

"My dad used to... get mad, if I didn't eat what I was given. Used to beat me for it," he said quietly.

Logan was silent for a long moment, and Wade almost pulled back just to see if he could read his expression. The hand on his waist tightened, fingers slipping beneath his shirt to run patterns over his hip bones.

"Dad's fucking suck. Hell, I killed mine. I wish I could kill yours, for doing that to you."

A sick, deeply twisted part of him wanted Logan to do it. Wanted to watch as his dad squirmed on the floor, covered in blood and bruises, all while he begged for mercy from an angry man who was so much bigger and stronger than him. Poetic justice really, but...

"He's already dead, sadly. Heart attack a few years ago."

"I'd say sorry for your loss, but I'm not," Logan commented, and Wade snorted against him, "yeah, me neither."

The silence returned. Wade hated silence, usually. Would say any dumb shit to fill it. Except it felt kind of... nice, right now. Comfortable. He didn't mind stewing in it for a few minutes.

"You know I'd never..." Logan trailed off, struggling with his words for a moment, which was odd. Wade had never heard him do that.

"I'd never hurt you like that. I know that sounds dumb, given the fact we fought each other a million times in the void, but I wouldn't..." he trailed off again, grunting in frustration.

Wade finally lifted up enough to look at him.

"I know. It's different when we fight, anyway. I'm immortal. You're immortal. I get my own hits in, and I fight dirty. It's a level playing field. With my dad... he started when I was four. I didn't have much of a chance," he shrugged, ignoring the flash of anger on Logan's face at the number, "I kind of like our fights. They keep me on my game, and I know I can't actually hurt you permanently. It's more like..."

"Play fighting?" Logan finished, his tone teasing but Wade knew he was serious, knew it was probably the only accurate word for what they did, "yeah," he grinned, and Logan chuckled.

Silence returned, their gazes locked. Logan's eyes went impossibly soft, "you alright now, bub?"

Wade nodded, leaning into the touch of his hip, bringing his own hand to rest on Logan's chest, "yeah, thank you."

"You want your ramen?" Logan asked softly, hurriedly adding, "if not that's okay, you don't have to. Just don't want you going hungry."

Wade nodded, and separated reluctantly from Logan to grab the bowl. He immediately felt a brief shock of that familiar panic and dread, but forced himself to remember that Logan wasn't mad, hadn't left him, he was right there.

He started eating, and Logan's arm returned to his waist, tugging him back in against his chest so he was situated between the older mans legs.

He looked up with a small smile, but Logan was pointedly watching the TV, even if the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

Eating the noodles was easy, and Wade didn't realise how hungry he'd been until it was gone.

"Can I ask you something? You don't gotta answer if you don't want to," Logan asked, taking the empty bowl from his hands and putting it on the coffee table.

"Sure," Wade shrugged, getting comfortable against him.

"It's... safe foods and stuff, right? You can only eat certain things? It's got a name, an annogram... starts with an A, I think?"

Wade sat up fully, brows furrowing as he looked over at Logan.

"ARFID. How do you know about that?" He asked, head tilting to the side. It's not something he had even knew where to start explaining to somebody like Logan. He worried he'd have the same outdated 'kids are just brats these days' kind of outlook on it that his dad did, but he scolded himself for that. Ever since they'd met, Logan had proved his stance on most topics was oddly forward thinking. Wade remembered one particularly impassioned rant about gay rights one night when some old trump clip had played on the news.

He just didn't expect Logan to know what it was at all, nevermind identify the behaviours as such.

"I never taught at the mansion, but I was around a lot. Charles said the kids liked me, for some reason, and I sort of became... not a counsellor, because I'm too fucked up for that, but just someone who the kids knew they could come to. Few of 'em struggled at meal times. Would come see me and I'd make chicken nuggets or whatever they felt able to eat. Sit with them while they did," Logan had that sort of glossy distant look in his eyes, the same one he always seemed to adopt whenever he'd reflect on his past.

Wade felt ready to melt into the damn couch cushions, his love for Logan increasing tenfold. There was a niggling sense of envy, too, just below the surface. He was glad the kids Logan cared for weren't abused for something out of their hands. That they were understood, even if only during their stay at the mansion.

But it didn't stop the jealousy from burning low and ugly inside of him. He never got that, never had an ounce of understanding from anyone. He was punished instead. Not starved, because he was always offered food technically, but in a way...

"I'm glad they had someone like you to support them. I'm sure that meant a lot," Wade said, no jokes, his face serious.

Logan looked away. That look grew more haunted, and he shook his head, "very little consolation considering most of them died because of me in the end."

"Lo, you didn't-"

"I know," Logan interrupted, his face completely unconvinced, "I know you disagree, that's fine. We don't... let's not talk about it again," he said, and Wade didn't want to drop it, wanted to argue until he lost his voice that what those people did wasn't Logan's fault - but it's an argument they'd had a million times over, and he never made any headway.

It always ended with Logan storming out to a bar to get pissed, likely in some dumb effort to prove how 'terrible' he was, and then they wouldn't speak for a few days until they both missed the other's company enough to put the debate and their pride aside.

So as much as Wade wanted to argue his point, he let it be done for now.

"Do need you to do me a favour though, bub."

"Hm?" Wade hummed.

"A list - all your safe foods. Bit pointless me shopping and cooking if I don't know what you can eat," Logan said, and Wade's throat went completely dry.

He'd wrote a list once. Only once. When he was nine, when he'd convinced himself his parents didn't hate him - they just didn't understand, and he could help. He wrote a list in his wobbly handwriting, the foods he liked - the foods he wouldn't need to expel from his body. He'd drew pictures next to each one. He'd gave it to his dad with a smile.

The smile had been slapped off his face. The list had been hung on the fridge, the only piece of his artwork to ever feature there, as a warning to his mother about what not to buy on their grocery trip.

And now here Logan was. Asking for one, so he could make sure he could stock those things, cook them for him.

He all but threw himself against Logan, who merely grunted at the impact, wrapping him easily in a hug while Wade practically squeezed the life out of him.

"Thank you," he mumbled against his neck.

"Don't mention it."

[kaliforniahigh]

I decided to write a HC about Noah dating a girl with ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder)

This is solely based on my experience. Even though I'm not professionally diagnosed, all the evidence and my selective eating points to ARFID.

And I just know he would be the sweetest.

Let's start with the first date. They were always nerve-wracking for you, because he told you he would be picking the place. But what if it had no options for you?

Other dates had gone south because of this. You hearing things along the lines of "why are you such a picky eater?" "you're an adult, you should eat everything!"

It goes without saying you've been out of the dating scene for a while. But something told you that Noah was different. He was very kind and caring, it was difficult for you to picture him being an asshole to you like the other ones.

Once you get to the restaurant, you start to scan the menu, hoping he isn't one of those people who like to order for each other.

Salmon, fish, oyster... as you keep reading, the fear gets worse and worse, because sea food is really NOT your thing.

But then you get to the kids menu and your eyes finally land on the chicken and fries plate.

Noah obviously notices this, and he obviously thinks he fucked up because why the hell would he not ask you if you liked sea food before picking the restaurant??

"You don't like sea food, do you?" He asks with a shy smile.

"It's not that I don't li-" "You can say you don't like it, it's totally fine, I won't be upset or anything" so you tell him that it's actually not your preferred food.

He stands up from his seat and extends his hand for you to take "c'mon, let's go eat something we're both going to enjoy. I'm not gonna let us have a shitty first date"

You're honestly shocked, because he is going out of his way to make sure you enjoy tonight.

The months pass and he notices habits you have. Like pushing aside some things on your plate, or checking your burger to see if everything is ok. And he really wants to ask, but he doesn't know how. And he doesn't want to offend you.

The day he really can't help it is when he invites you backstage to a show he is performing. In the rush that is everything before a concert, he really doesn't notice you don't eat anything from the catering table.

You give him a kiss for good luck and take your place side stage to watch him.

Towards the end of the concert, he notices you're gone. But he just thinks it's a bathroom break or something of the sort.

He thanks the fans, they throw the towels and guitar picks and he heads backstage when someone stops him. "Hey, man. You should check on Y/N, she doesn't seem like she's very well"

He frowns and runs to where you are, noticing that you are, in fact, very pale, your hands are shaking and cold.

"What happened, baby?"

"I just need to eat something, I'll be fine"

"When was the last time you ate? Here, we have food around here, grab a plate" He starts to look around but notices you're not on the same wavelength as he is with this.

So you have no other option but to tell him. The hard time you had as a kid, the never eating from the school cafeteria, or your parents not being able to go to restaurants because you don't eat anything there.

The patronizing looks you got when you told people you don't eat hot dogs. Or soup. Or sushi. Or sea food.

After this, he always makes sure he walks around with a safe snack for you. He calls hotels to make sure they have safe options for you to eat for breakfast. Checks every restaurant menu beforehand. Talks to his tour management about food options for the catering they have.

But he also encourages you to eat different things. So he always buys things he thinks you're going to enjoy. He says it's a win-win situation, because if you don't eat it, then he can have it himself.

I would like to write more on this topic, so if you have suggestions, you can send them!

[thefandomenchantress]

tw:: e/d

I'm starting to think Ace's eating disorder isn't anorexia, but ARFID. Bulimia is an option, too, but hear me out.

Anorexia is when people who hate their bodies and want to make it better. It's the most common eating disorder, but again, has a different meaning than what people believe it to be.

I'll elaborate: When people think 'eating disorder', their mind automatically goes to anorexia or bulimia. But when the e/d doesn't involve throwing up they think-- 'oh, you don't eat? It's anorexia.' Again, anorexia develops when you don't eat because you have self-image issues relating to the body.

It's not confirmed if Ace thinks this way, but based on evidence, ARFID suits him better.

ARFID stands for Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder. It means you avoid food, or you are restricted from food.

Ace fits both categories.

He's a jockey, which means he has a diet and isn't allowed to eat certain foods. I could add the 'he hates meat' thing, but people can be vegan/vegetarian without gaining an e/d, but what I can highlight is why he hates it. He hates it for texture, if I'm understanding correctly, so that fits under the Avoidant category. So, he fits under both.

But here's something interesting: people with ARFID involve other things like ADHD, anxiety, and autism.

I think it's safe to say Ace has autism.

People with ARFID don't eat certain foods because of the taste, or texture, and-- get this-- the fear of choking, dying, vomiting, or pain.

I rest my case.

https://kidshealth.org/en/parents/arfid.html#:~:text=What%20Is%20ARFID%3F,poor%20growth%20and%20poor%20nutrition.

Hmm, I've never had an eating disorder myself, and I don't think I'm informed enough to make any big judgements on this, but your reasoning seems to be pretty sound.

I think the argument for it being anorexia was that Ace restricts out of a need for control. He's always goes on about how there are so many things in life he can't control, but he can control his weight. And since being the weight he is directly connects to his success as a jockey, he also does it as a way to assure himself he's not a failure. Which sounded right to me, though again, I'm by no means an expert.

And honestly, I always figured him hating meat probably had something to do with seeing a horse getting put down when he was a kid and never being able to look at it the same way again. Y'know, because of his whole fear of death thing, and meat is made of dead animals (animals being something Ace is often compared to). And once he thought about it, he couldn't unthink about how the meat he consumed used to be alive.

Still, your explanation also makes sense! Especially the fear of dying part. I never would've considered it being ARFID, despite doing research into it in the past for other reasons. And now I'm a little surprised no one's brought this up before, to my knowledge. Thanks for sharing with me!

[i-fucking-hate-radqueers]

I was gonna say it doesn't sound like ARFID at all

This is literally self harm… You are literally praising yourself for giving yourself an eating disorder. WTF… I’m not even angry, just… really sad for you :/

[thelunarsystemwrites]

[TW Eating disorders of multiple kinds, like BED, Bulimia, and ARFID!]

(Also mentions of weight, guilt, food/eating!)

So... you know the bad time trio? Y-Yeah so uhm... like I migh'tve thought of something. Like another way to torment them.

So I might've thought of a real stupid AU, where I gave them each an eating disorder. (All coming from my personal experiences.)

So starting with Horror, he has BED, which stands for Binge Eating Disorder. Something he developed as a result to being in the underground, and starving for so long—He tends to think with a scarcity mindset. He finishes his food even if he's full, and a lot of foods are trigger foods for him to start binging. Also, he tends to hoard.

Killer, is suffering from Bulimia. I haven't quite decided why he does it, so I'm also going to go with trauma response. Like he constantly feels empty, he needed to feel anything else. And, listen—Only takes one time purging to get addicted to it. (<- speaking from experience there, I very much regret September 16th.)

Dust has ARFID, which stands for Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder. For him, it's a huge mixture of guilt and delusions that causes him such distress. He'll look down at many certain foods and can't stop thinking of someone he's dusted, can't stop seeing it as something he should not eat. It's textures, smells, tastes, looks—Which. He's dropped a concerning about of weight due to this.

Now, the thing is after the murder time trio figured out they're all terrible at eating. You wanna know what they did?

*Sharp inhale*

They formed a pack, one that was basically to help each other out when needed. If Nightmare or Cross (<- not an ED, but he does have an exercise addiction) ever got suspicious, they'd cover for each other, make up excuses when Dust wouldn't eat or why a whole pack of chips was gone the next morning after just being bought.

As for Nightmare... he is, incredibly suspicious of these three. He feels embarrassment and shame in the air when he asked who ate of last of something and it almost always comes from Horror.

He feels emptiness and frustration that comes shortly after Killer excuses himself from the table, Killer always excuses himself first.

And he feels sadness, fear, and guilt from Dust anytime he picks up a fork, fear.

And he doesn't know how to handle it, or what to do. They all look so... tired, and so exhausted and dinner time is so awkward and he hates not knowing what's wrong.

So the story would focus on Nightmare trying to get to the bottom of it, and once he figures out what's wrong, he'd ne focusing on trying to help them recover.

Now, he's not entirely sure how be would help them recover, but he's getting there.

AU credits!

[cosmicvenusnebula]

So, the other day I got fully diagnosed with ARFID.

For those who don't know, it stands for Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder.

It is a eating disorder usually (but not always) caused by autism. Unlike other eating disorders, it isn't caused by body image issues.

It's caused by many different reasons, such as issues with food texture, taste, appearance, the concept of food, anxiety around eating/choking, ptsd, etc.

I am autistic, but the main reason I am diagnosed for it is because I am a DID system (Dissociative Identity Disorder) and we have multiple alters that cannot stand anything about food, even the idea of eating just makes us shut down.

It makes us shut down, and because certain alters have difference in taste, most of our safefoods end up causing us to feel sick and dissociate.

So anyways, my therapist who is one of the only people in my town who treats ARFID, said that we're gonna have a long journey figuring out how to heal and live with ARFID because there isn't really a protocol for treating it caused by dissociative parts.

[the-killer-princess]

My Affogatos  cookie headcanons 

Trigger warning for mentions Self harm & EDs 

He`s Gay ( much like everyone else from the Dark Cacao kingdom LoL)

Is a Tran male/Tran masc but still enjoy feminine things such as makeup

Man has some serious trust and abandonment issue ( he doesn't trust a single person around him)

Has a pet snake named Basil that he found as a kid( he straight just pick up a random snake and said”Your my friend now”)

He's the second shortest out of the main cacao gang and stands at 5.5 

Was abandoned by his mother and never know his father

Has freckles that he hides with make doe to being insecure about them

Man has the tism and will only stim in private 

He has an Eating disorder Specifically  ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder) 

 Has issue with self harm and scar most around his inner and outer thighs 

He underweight do to both his ED and from Malnourishment for his childhood

Ending on a happy headcanon 

He and Choco werehound Brute do each other's make and Affogato helps Brute explore their gender identity.

[blushblushdrabbles]

i hc that folks has ARFID with meat as a safe food :3 what do you think

ooooooooh you mean Volks yes? .O.

ok so i'm gonna add a cut below since this is talking about an eating disorder. Please tell me if i have misrepresented it or anything.

Tw eating disorder i think???

Also i'm really sorry i had to look up what ARFID cause i have never heard of it before, so internet says it stands for Avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. Its definitely an interesting idea of Volks having this disorder and uses meat as a safe food. I can definitely relate as my safe food is potato, i would lean more towards meat but sometimes it can be too much for me, texture wise or taste wise.

Maybe Volks develops this when he got transformed into a wolf and he had to rely on meat to survive as a wolf, i'm guessing thats what a wolf eats, and as he transformed back into a human, it sorta stayed with him to have meat as a safe food for him.

[borderline-culture-is]

bpd + arfid + autism culture is getting so angry at your "friend" after they told you arfid recovery should be easy, which upset you bc you've got a strong sense of justice and that was Too wrong, and splitting on them and wanting them completely gone from your life.

(arfid stands for avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder (easiest summary - extremely limited diet not by choice))

.

[inhumanliquid]

what's autism like for you

Uhhhh. Hold on let me reflect on all the concious years of life I remember rq.

-I spend most of the time I'm not standing, laying, or on a backed non-rockable seat I'm rocking back and forth because stimming

-I ended up with a meowing stim due to being round cats my whole life and sometimes I do it "at" (in the general direction of) some random ableist allistic because they're just fucking everywhere apparently

-I literally can't ignore the ticking of analog clocks and nobody fucking believes me when I tell them the clock is too loud (had a teacher tell another kid to stop stimming once because I was getting overstimulated by THE CLOCK and she thought (incorrectly) that it was actually his chair)

-When I was a little kid I apparently started just randomly chewing on my hand on a regular basis (I never realized I was doing it and I only know because people told me - I have yet to tell anyone that I had no fucking clue it was happening)

-Every time I go to my little cousin's birthday party I get so overwhelmed I start bawling in front of tens of strangers... despite this, I continue to go to his birthday parties

-Sometimes my neck or wrist will jerk randomly - apparently these are not tics but rather myoclonic seizures

-Sometimes being overstimulated triggers my stupid fucking migraines, which makes the overstimulation worse, which makes the migraines worse, whi-

-I (titty-having trans) have to wear a t-shirt or tank top under my binder for sensory reasons (it isn't even the thicker fabric at the front that causes issues, it's the back sticking to my skin)

-I can't eat a lot of foods, and with those I can, it's often only specific flavors and/or brands - my family thinks this is picky eating, but it's actually part of the Avoidant-Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID) that they don't know is a thing, much less a thing I have

-I can't wear clothes, particularly shirts, with those stupid fucking scratchy paper tags on them - I also can't wear long socks, most jeans, or clothes with lace (the latter being like 99% of "women's" clothes)

-The raptor arms + tiptoes combo is REAL

-99.9% of ASMR content makes me violent, so I avoid it - despite this, YouTube really wants me to watch the ASMR content that makes me violent

-If I am speaking to you verbally one day, do not expect that to be true the next, because it likely won't

[the-real-agatha-harkness]

Arfids awareness!!

Hello! For disability pride month, I wanted to share my experience with Arfids! For those who don't know Arfids stand for

A- Avoidant

R- Restrictive

F- Food

I- Intake

D-Disorder

The general definition is a disorder where someone limits their food intake and variety of foods that they will eat. Unlike Anorexia or Bulimia, Arfids is not based on body image but instead, sensory issues, past traumas or fears, or a general disinterest in food or eating.

My Experience

I was diagnosed with Arfids in the middle of 9th grade and I have been going to a nutritionist since then. My food troubles stems from my sensory issues, my fear of becoming sick, and just a general lack of disinterest in food. I'm almost never hungry and getting myself to eat can be very difficult sometimes. I have alarms set and if I don't eat after they go off, I'll get in trouble. My safe foods are Caesar salad (only the dressing and lettuce), Nutella biscuits and M&Ms, that's not a lottt of food. Whenever I eat I'm overcome with the fear that I'll become sick because it which can lead panic attacks, I share my story on the hopes that Arfids can have more representation in media and in general. Thank you for reading and I'll post more Arfids content in the future!

[kmackatie]

tagged by the lovley @ariadne-mouse for this one!

Last song/piece I listened to: very specifically, because it's still open on my Spotify, Mothers by Lilli Furfaro. It is on my commuting playlist, which I don't tend to listen so much as have in the background while reading on the train. The last song I intentionally listened to was Labour -the cacophony by Paris Paloma.

Last book I read: A Power Unbound by Freya Markse, it's the third book in The Last Binding trilogy (A Marvellous Light is the first one) -- I became slightly unhinged about it at @mllekurtz's messages. It's a fantastic conclusion to the trilogy, full of all the dymanics that I find particularly tasty. Loosely, the series is set in Edwardian England with a wonderful magic system and full of queer rep. The writing is engaging with a wonderful cast of characters and I heartily rec it to everyone!

Last film I watched: Irish Wish on Netflix, the Lindsay Lohan romcom which you do not watch for any form of plot coherency. This film is definitely a Hallmark Christmas film in vibe (you could have set it at Christmas and it would work with very little changes) but it was cute and fun for an afternoon when I needed to let my brain chill.

Last TV series:��I recently finished season two of The Wheel of Time which is the last TV series I would have finished, but the last TV episode I watched was from Dark, a Netflix show about time travel and caves (this is a really poor description).

Last thing I googled: based on the window open on my phone, ARFID which stands for avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. I saw the term online and wasn't sure what it meant.

Last thing I ate: red pesto gnocchi. It was delicious!

Sweet, Savory or Spicy: I have a sweet tooth, but overall a good savoury meal is far more appealing than any other.

Amount of sleep: not enough. I think it was a bit over six hours? I have a not-great relationship with sleep, so it varies.

Currently reading: I have just started another attempt at Empire of the Vampire by Jay Kristoff. I love a lot of his other work, so hoping now I'm in a better reading habit I'll be able to stick through this one!

A no-obligation tag to others if they wish to: @aravhy, @zmeess, @nellasbookplanet, @quinn-of-aebradore, @stygiusfic, @lakrisrot

[lidyaliang]

Ash's ED

I don’t think Ash is ED at all, my best guess is the Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID) from feeding disorder(FD). One significant mark that distinguish between eating disorder and feeding disorder is the concern of shape and weight(referencing to DSM-5). In all eating disorders, body shape and weight is the major maintaining transdiagnotstic factor which means, for acute anorexia nervosa, Ash has to have shown over concern for his shape and weight ——in the DSM-5 diagnostic criteria for Anorexia Nervosa(AN), indicate that as: intense fear of weight gain or persistent behaviour that interferes with weight gain; disturbance inhow weight/shape is perceived, undue influence of weight /shape on self evaluation, or lack of recognition of seriousness of current low weight. I watched the anime and did not read the manga, but I don’t think Ash has shown these features at all during being captive by Dino. In the Episode 19, Dino asked if Ash tried to avoid him through death (from not eating) and then threatened that he might kill Eiji if Ash tried such, Ash replied that he didn't mean to and he never thought of that. I assume here what Ash replied to Dino is true, that he truly unintended to restrict food intake.

So that is why I believe Ash could not be AN or any type of eating disorders. Rather, if we look at the rumination disorder and Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder, which are under the classification of feeding disorder, we might find a diagnosis that suits Ash better. In the anime Dino has mentioned that “I had to force him to eat, but he vomited it all up”, this is very adhere to the symptom described in the rumination disorder: repeated regurgitation of food and the regurgitated food may be re-chewed, re-swallowed, or spit out (DSM-5). This is significantly different from the purging behaviour in eating disorder (exist in Anorexia Nervosa-Binge eating/Purging type and in Bulimia Nervosa Purging subtype) which is done intentially as a compensatory behaviour to prevent weight gain.

If we don’t discuss his rumination symptom, Ash’s symptoms adhere to the diagnosis criteria of Avoidant restrictive food intake disorder, which is quite similar to anorexia nervosa but has a definite difference in the body shape and weight disturbance.

Therefore, if we are not talking about anxiety disorder or even mood disorder, within the range of eating and feeding disorder, Ash’s symptoms suggest he might possibly suffer from the rumination disorder or ARFID. But it should not be eating disorder (including Anorexia Nervosa and the subthreshold eating pathology like orthorexia)

My response stands on the perspective of Eating and Feeding disorder especially. As I read through other posts I also find interesting points and guesses of reasons for Ash having ED, I think these points are interesting but there lack of strong evicence of Ash's fear of gaining weight and overconcern about body image. However, these points might also support the potential that Ash's symptoms are due to other mental problem (Anxiety for example). In which case, eating and feeding disorder diagnosis might be degraded.

[howtocareforbunnyboys]

wow I haven't been on Tumblr in 2 years woaahhh. Anyways I have question for u. I see you adding ARFID agere on some of your posts. What is ARFID agere exactly? Please explain in detail, but try not to use too big of words. Just in case any tiny babies can't understand bigger kid words!

-a 16 year old age regressor. (You said 16+ could do asks, sooo-)

Hello! I'm not really sure how to explain this with small words, sorry, haha. I tagged "ARFID agere" because I have seen a lot of crossover between age regressors and people with food sensitivities.

ARFID stands for Avoidant-Restrictive Food Intake Disorder. People with ARFID have a really hard time with eating, often because they are super sensitive to bitter tastes, are very sensitive to food textures, and often are very scared of choking or getting sick from bad food.

They usually have a small set of "safe foods" to choose from, which sometimes gets even smaller over time! Oh no!

You need to eat lots of different kinds of foods to be strong and healthy, so this is a problem.

If someone with ARFID happens to age regress, then they can try making baby-friendly foods that are different from what they usually eat. Yay!

Or if they're having a hard time eating at all, you can make their snacks pretty and cute, so that the 'baby brain' takes over and they get more nutrition without having such a hard time with it.

TL;DR: ARFID is a condition. There's no "ARFID agere" as a separate thing, but I didn't want to put age regression stuff in the main ARFID tag. There are enough age regressors with ARFID, though, that establishing the tag might be useful to them for finding resources.