The Nature of Predators - Anorexia (2/2) (Patreon)

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CW: Eating Disorder

Memory transcription subject: Crysa, Zurulian Nurse

Date [standardized human time]: April 27, 2137

It was as if the weight of Colia was on my shoulders, as I forced my legs to carry me back to Adana’s room. This was going far outside the purview of what I ever dreamed I’d have to do to help a patient. However, Dr. Baranwal had been right; the only way to indicate that the human’s self-worth wasn’t tied to her diet was for me to show acceptance. It was easier said than done to violate the core of our beliefs, raised on the notion of herbivory being the only ethical philosophy. Of course, I’d known and come to terms with the fact that the average Terran indulged in more depraved meals—but that was always behind closed doors. In this case, I would be telling Adana to choose this lifestyle. I would be giving her the carcass scraps.

I understood what made the predators tick better since my insightful conversation with my colleague, but it didn’t rid me of any reservations. All it helped was for me not to fear other cases of eating disorders, with the reassurance that the primates wouldn’t turn their jaws on us. After standing beside a Terran that was starving, and seeing that they had the willpower to rebuff any suggestion of food, that was indicative of how much control they had. These sensitive creatures weren’t the Arxur; they were empathetic beings whose emotions tied in even to their mealtime. Still, as I drew closer, I wasn’t sure how I could go forward with this course of action. It felt wrong, even with the stated objective of saving lives.

This isn’t going to be something that you can ignore forever. The humans are here on Skalga today, and if you don’t harbor ill will toward them, you need to stop ignoring parts of them you don’t like. Dr. Baranwal is right about the discourse around food being toxic to mentally vulnerable refugees.

Once I stood in the doorway of the human’s ward, and saw her deflated skin against the harsh outlines of her bones, my heart broke a little. It was sympathy that granted me renewed resolve. Without ever meaning to cause the Terrans harm, my aforementioned attitude was the reason they felt rejected. What right did we have to judge them based on appearance, or to refer to their dietary habits as disgusting? That was at the root of all of this, and I needed to be the one to venture beyond my comfort zone. I climbed up a nurse’s aid step stool to the bed, and slid the sandwich container off from where it was balanced on my back. Adana’s drowsy gaze tracked me, followed by alarm at the non-leafy food.

“That’s not a salad. Don’t you understand that I’m on a diet?! That shit is pure carbs and way too many calories—it can only set me back,” the predator hissed. “You’re not persuading…tempting me to eat that. Go away. I’m not hungry.”

I tilted my head. “I don’t think that’s true. That’s just what you tell everyone. I think that you feel cold, weak, and you’re positively ravenous.”

“So what if I am? I can overcome a few traitorous feelings. I don’t need to act on them like an animal. I’m not some mindless beast; you brought meat, because you think I have bloodlust. I know how you aliens think, but I enjoy being hungry. I feel pure and disciplined resisting dietary vices, and I won’t let you go telling me otherwise!”

“Adana, I’m a friend. What I think is that you’re hurting, and that aliens have been telling you you’re a monster for eating certain foods—and you believe them. It’s getting to you. If you’re hungry, it’s because your body needs fuel and nutrients. That’s not bloodlust. You don’t have to feel any shame about basic needs from being alive.”

“Then why do you look so miserable standing here? I can see it in your eyes; you don’t want to do this.”

“You’re wrong about that. I have cultural conditioning that’s utterly shitty, just like you do. Your conditioning pushes this unnatural ideal of thinness, equating it to beauty, while mine is about diet. We’re not that different, love. We just have to overcome our biases, so that we can think about things free of judgment. Maybe, by doing this, you can help me a little…to get over my lingering fears. I see that I can’t just ignore them; I’m still hurting people like you by pretending that baggage doesn’t exist.”

“I know about that baggage, from seeing things with forward-facing eyes literally eat your kind. I’d be hurting aliens like you by eating this sandwich and making you relive those nightmares. It’d be selfish.”

“It’s not selfish to take care of your body, especially when this is the safest and most assured path to your optimal weight. Humans had nothing to do with what’s happened with the Arxur, and us linking those unrelated atrocities to your behavior is wrong. You ignoring your hunger is just as detrimental as me ignoring my fear. It’s okay to think about food, and to want it.”

“That’s part of the problem! Crysa, you have no idea how much I read about food, and I think about it often. The stupid hunger weighs on me, something that comes knocking, daily. I plan meals so meticulously, so unlike what you just presented me with. I just know too much about it all. Some human brought this sandwich in, right?”

“Yes, and it’s a very knowledgeable staffer who was happy to help you. This is something he, a respected surgeon, would eat himself. I trust him, as a medical professional who’s been eating meat his whole life; it can’t be that bad.”

“It can be that bad! That’s just mind-boggling…that humans would bring poisons like this for lunch! I don’t understand why I’m the only one who thinks about it this much. I can’t believe that people eat bread and processed meats when it’s so fucking bad for us. I can’t believe we’d ever want to. We’re all horrible!”

I drew a deep breath, considering her words. “No, you are not horrible. Not in the slightest. I can see how distressed you are about eating something that might be unhealthy. I’m listening to what you’re saying, truly. You are not at fault for ‘hurting’ anyone who judges you. I want you to feel in control of your choices, so I’m asking you to make different ones. You shouldn’t have to stress this much about food. Don’t let other people’s hatred and prejudice control you.”

“You didn’t deny that this sandwich was unhealthy. You know it’s true.”

“You didn’t deny that what you’re doing is unhealthy. You know I’m speaking the truth. Sometimes, making bad decisions is a way to give yourself control. Not caring what people think, and accepting that you can’t be perfect…it’s a part of life. It’s something I had to do when I moved to Skalga, because my parents believed that choice was because I couldn’t cut it on Colia like them. The truth was, I didn’t want that pressure, living up to their unrealistic standards. I don’t think you want the pressure you put on yourself either.”

Adana sniffled. “It is our diet that makes you hate us.”

“I don’t hate you. I know you heard my voice tremble earlier, but that’s just old thinking I can’t quite shake. It’s easy to fall back into those thought patterns. Like I told you, I’m not perfect; I’ve failed to adapt quickly enough, and to express my struggles in positive ways. But I’m not just okay with this—I want you to do this, for us both.”

I pushed the sandwich container toward her with my nose, and forced myself to watch: suppressing disgust and not averting my eyes. The human reached out with a bony hand, before her fingers curled around the carton. She pried open the translucent lid, inspecting the contents closer with hesitation. Adana’s binocular eyes searched my expression, before she took the tiniest nibble from the bread-and-meat dish. My stomach flipped inside of me, though I tried not to show how close I was to retching. The predator chewed the first bite, but then pushed the rest away like it burned to the touch.

It’s like the Terran is just as uncomfortable as I am. I don’t know what to do; I don’t know if she’d react poorly to me advising her to get help from a specialist, like one of those Earthling therapists.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this, Crysa,” the predator sighed.

I hesitated, before pushing the sandwich back. “Yes, you can. I want you to make a full recovery, all the way back to a full, vibrant self, and I believe you can do it. You’ve survived on an alien planet. You’re driven to be successful at anything you put your mind to.”

“I can’t be successful when I’m preoccupied with food. I can hear it all jangling in my head. Why do you even care?”

“Because I care about saving lives…and I was wrong about what controls you. It was never your appetite. Listen to me: it’s your emotions. You just want to fit in with all of these confusing voices around you, and I’m going to help you make sense of this. No matter what anyone on the outside says, I’ll be here and support you.”

“No, you won’t. You’re kind to pretend, but you’re here because it’s your job. As soon as I’m discharged, I’ll never see you again.”

“You’re right that it’s my job, but it’s also my passion. I love seeing people get back on their feet, and playing a role in their healing. If you would allow me to be there for you, I want to help you…as a friend. I would like to see Terrans as more than just patients. Before you go, we’ll exchange contact information, and we can just talk. It doesn’t have to be about this. I think we both need someone to talk to, about all those things we’ve been compartmentalizing. Would you like that?”

“Yes! But…I was rejected from the exchange program. Multiple iterations of them, including the Zurulian one. The UN knows I’m broken and unworthy…”

I snorted. “The UN knows people who will cry at someone different aren’t worthy of you. You have value, Adana Davtyan. You know you’re not some heartless monster that doesn’t feel anything, and that’s what matters. You are kind and beautiful. I’d be lucky to have your company.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I do. I also know that there’s zero chance I’m letting you starve, and that I’d rather not stick a feeding tube down your mouth. I’m going to save your life, so we can have those chats, whether you fight me or not. Why don’t you take me a few more bites of that sandwich, so I don’t have to wrestle you to the ground? You’ve never seen a Zurulian angry.”

“No, I haven’t. I…surrender, fearsome Nurse Crysa.”

A smile graced the predator’s face for a brief moment, before she humored me with a few more nibbles of the sandwich. The Terran didn’t even finish an entire half, but her bites had been a bit more substantive. I weighed my options, and given that the IV could supply nutrients, I decided not to push; I wanted Adana to feel in control, like she had a choice in the matter. For the human to believe in her own recovery, she needed to defeat the self-doubt and begin to conquer her emotions. She had to trust what I told her about deserving love, regardless of any unkind words from aliens. This wasn’t something that could be fixed overnight, and rushing a complicated recovery wasn’t going to help her. I’d leave the sandwich here, so that if she found the courage, she could finish what we’d started.

I meant what I said. I want to fix this…to be there and support her. It’s about time I called a human a friend, and I regret that I had to see one in such a pitiful state to stop fearing them. Working through my own issues will be part of the process.

“Maybe next time, I’ll actually bring you a salad. I just wanted you to know it’s okay to be an omnivore,” I said gently. “Nothing that superficial will make me think of you differently.”

Adana leaned back against her pillow. “Thanks, Nurse. It’s nice to hear you say that. For what it’s worth, what’s happened with me isn’t your fault either. Don’t feel guilty. I can see that written on your face, and it’s not fair. You don’t want to be saddled with the feelings you are, anymore than I want to be hounded by mine.”

“I’m going to change the way I think. It’s never too late to do that. We can wind up doing things we never thought we could…like walking up to a resting predator with a meat sandwich. I never would’ve thought I could do that, but sometimes, love is stronger. I’ve just remembered why I wanted to go into the medical profession at all: love. It’s easy to sacrifice for someone we care about.”

Her eyes glistened with sudden moisture. “You saying that is something I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Well, all I want is for you to take care of yourself, and put every ounce of mental fortitude into finding balance. And you click that buzzer if you need anything. I’m going to check on some of the other patients, so you can rest up and recoup your strength. Never a slow day in the ER, yeah?”

The human chuckled. “Go save some lives, Crysa. Those people will be lucky to have you.”

I trundled off the bed via the stairs, and shot a glance over my shoulder at Adana. When she’d been wheeled in here in critical condition, I’d been terrified of what would happen when she woke up; it was that exact sentiment that made me realize how blind I’d been. Whatever Dr. Baranwal said about not fueling rumors of Terrans being predator diseased, I needed to find a different way to complete my mission—educating people on how their dietary prejudices could inflict serious harm. If the days that we’d lived under Kolshian-Farsul deceit were truly over, it was time to shed their ideology. It was time to become more focused on acceptance than exclusion of those who didn’t fit our mold.

What I’d said back in the hospital room had been the truth. Love was a much more powerful force than fear would ever be, and it could motivate us to reshape the fabric of our lives and entire society. Doing no harm was about more than just physically healing our patients; it was supporting them, not ostracizing them to facilities or avoiding the issues that made us uncomfortable. Just as when I’d visited Earth in its darkest hour, I’d seen zero proof that the Terrans wanted to turn us into a meal. All they wanted was to turn scared aliens into friends, and in this particular case, I was proud to say Adana had succeeded. I couldn’t wait to connect with her further, and to watch her take the first steps back to a healthy recovery.

For having just condoned omnivory, I didn’t feel bad. The worst sensations had been when I was forcing myself to walk down there, and overcome my burdens. In fact, it was like a weight—similar to the one my patient described with her mealtime fixations—had been lifted off my shoulders. I was free to view Terrans as full people now, and not to have fear lurking in the shadows of my mind. After all the talk about food that had occurred since humanity’s introduction, I wasn’t going to let that be the center of my interactions with them any longer.

A/N - The anorexia story comes to a close. Crysa is able to get Adana to start down the lengthy road to recovery with a few bites of the sandwich, and our Zurulian nurse goes through with her initiative to finally address her fears and biases. Crysa also promises to stay in touch with Adana, and be there for her in the long run. Do you think this is a good start back to full health for the troubled human? Did Crysa do a good job at supporting Adana despite her limited knowledge on the subject?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! Noah and Tarva's children are getting a series after 184 (the final part of NOP1) drops, if you haven't heard: exciting stuff! Rumor has it we might know their names very soon....