1I Eat Only You
A life time of hate
In Panama I order a doughnut and bagel with cream cheese for breakfast. This combo comes with a drink. I expect to get a diet coke or at least that's what I asked for. Happily, the woman gets me my chocolate crème doughnut and bagels and, muttering to herself, turns back to get my drink. In her hand is orange juice. As quickly as I can, I tell her that no, I don't want orange juice and ask for Pepsi. My heart beat has speed up and I know if I don't do something fast, she'll think I'm crazy. The woman looks at me with big eyes and nods. After a few seconds she comes out with my drink.
I hate orange juice or, as I use to call it, the "devil juice." I hate anything that has to do with oranges, except the color. I hate mandarins, tangerines, clementines, etc., etc. with a passion. I have hated oranges since the beginning of time. I have never liked any product that has come from the juices or flesh of the devil fruit. I hate oranges!
When people hear about my hatred for this disgusting fruit they usually laugh. Laugh all you like but it's no joke. But I have found ways to help me with my phobia. If a person had just had something with oranges in it and asked for a piece of food or drink from me I won't share with them. I will ask them to wash their hands, and brush their teeth before coming close to me. If someone orders orange juice I tend to slowly walk in the other direction trying not to look like I'm avoiding them. If they try to catch up with me, it won't happen because I'll walk even faster. I won't touch the fruit either. My mother has learned to put oranges in a different bag from other groceries so when I help her unpack I don't stop and walk out of the kitchen. If the orange is touching one thing on my plate I won't eat anything on it. For example if there are orange slices on top a fruit salad I won't even touch it. If the OJ is near the milk in the refrigerator I probably won't drink the milk or go near that shelf.
As my hateful fixation with oranges grew I found some of my friends also feared "it". In fact my best friend Kelsey told me she tearfully told her doctor she couldn't drink orange juice when told she needed to due to get over a bad cold. When asked why she explained it was because of me. Kelsey had been spending long periods of time with me while her parents moved, during our junior year. After she moved to Ohio her fear of oranges became less and less. It seemed she had also started asking her father to buy apple juice, which she also hates, instead of the devil juice. My other best friend, Rosie would only drink orange juice when on vacation knowing I was not around. My mother of course stopped buying orange juice because I refused to eat foods that had been near the devil drink. Even knowing the least bit of orange was used in one of the dishes for dinner would make the rest of the food inedible too. Of course, I avoided buffets like the plague; fearing oranges might be hiding somewhere. I also consider it my mission to help others see the light: oranges are the devil's curse to earth.
As of 2008 my phobia of the devil fruit has improved. Living in Costa Rica was at first very challenging for me with all the tropical citrus around. Oranges seem to be everywhere. But I found that as long as they were not open I felt fine. I now pride myself on being able to walk down the street, pass the devil fruit, and not run as fast as possible. I don't walk out of the room at the sight of "it" on a table or in the kitchen. I still find going to breakfast with people hard and I don't like to eat when the devil fruit is around me. Though my phobia has gotten better there are many habits that are hard to break. I will still walk away when the fruit is around. I still don't like to talk to people after they've eaten or drunk "it". My family and friends have tried to help me cope with this affliction in order to keep peace.
Of course there have been those who haven't realized my passionate hatred of the devil's fruit. For instance, I was talking to a teacher who happened to be drinking "it". I tactfully held my breath and breathed over my shoulder. There are also some people who would try to "cure" me. My Aunt Chris, for example, said if I were her daughter, she would hang oranges from the ceiling so I would become used to them. I have yet to visit her house since that suggestion. Then my father once tried to pass oranges off as carrots in goulash. And I, however, did not eat the dish, stubbornly insisting that they were orange slices, which they were.
While others have support groups for their phobia, my phobia does not. I believe my phobia doesn't even have a Latin name for it. There are support groups for people who have a fear of buttons, the number 13, heights, and clouds yet there is nonsupport system for those of us who have a phobia of OJ. My life was hard and getting harder as I kept meeting people who drank the terrible drink. Though I have found people who don't like oranges but like the juice, or they like the juice not the fruit. I still have not found a person who does not like the whole group of fruits in the devil's family.
Lately I have tried to reason why I have a phobia of the devil's fruit. Was it a bad childhood memory, my mother tells me I used to love oranges, or was it some traumatic event that has been blocked from memory? Over the years I have tried to remember if I had any love for the thing but sadly no is always the answer. I have always liked other fruits, though those part of the citrus family I tend not to like. Grapefruit I dislike because I don't like the sour taste, lemons I tolerate because my mother loves them in tea. Both are part of the citrus family. Strawberries, raspberries, cherries, apples, bananas are among some of the fruits I love to eat. Here in Costa Rica a eat pineapple almost every day. However for some reason the orange just disgusts me. Maybe it's the white film that covers the orange or the smell of the orange that makes me hate it so.
Other then the devil fruit I like food. I do have some rather weird habits that would take another paper to explain. Will I ever over come my hateful obsession with the devil fruit, probably not. But for now I will keep fighting a losing battle.
Please Review! This was a essay for on of my writing teachers.