I have 30+ food allergies that developed as an adult (which includes alcohol). Yes, it's ridiculous. I literally cannot eat food that isn't prepared by me from a hilariously small and ever-shrinking list of approved ingredients. I also can't prepare food more than a day in advance due to a histamine intolerance (food grows in histamine count as it sits in the fridge), so roughly 50% of my free time is spent cooking, else I starve.

I find these kinds of social outings shitty because I'm invariably left out, asked why I'm left out, and now we're talking about my health issues. Politely declining is never met as well as you'd like it to be (people always insist), so either I forcefully decline so as to avoid option #2 (and people think I'm an asshole); or I take option #2 and talk about it, and am now sad because it sucks and will never stop sucking and I don't really like bringing it up.

Then, the following script: everyone gives the minimum pity, commensurate with social niceties. At least two people tell me about their experiences with food intolerances (not even remotely the same thing) and how they got over it (which is not possible with adult-developed food allergies), or they suggest that it's leaky-gut (not scientifically-proven to exist; god knows I've looked into it regardless), or suggest acupuncture, or some other pseudoscience bullshit. Now I get to either choose to tumble head-first into yet another unpaid lecture on the nuances of food allergies, and perhaps inform them as to why what they're suggesting isn't scientifically sound (which is bound to offend, no matter how nicely I say it, because pseudoscience and pop-science is believed with near-religious fervor; the best I'm gonna get is "agree to disagree," so it's not worth it). Or -- my preferred choice nowadays -- I nod and smile and thank them for their novel, sage advice, and tell them I'll be sure to contact the homeopath they suggested first thing tomorrow, as I'm sure that, finally, now, thanks to their intervention, my nightmare is about to come to an end.

At this point, an uncomfortable amount of people are listening to me. I mumble something about "and..uh...yeah." Someone stumbles to change the subject, the wheels of conversation spin in the mud for a while before finally getting back to normal -- and everyone subtly ignores me for the rest of the night, lest I bring down the mood or suck the air out of the room again.

I've been through this song and dance so many times, I'm completely over it and now just avoid it altogether. Which sucks, because now you're the social pariah that never wants to hang out (because virtually all social gatherings revolve around food). I want nothing more than to enjoy good food and drink with my friends and peers and to be happy and merry and well-fed and buzzed. That used to be my element.

It's a touchy subject, because prior to age 30, I was the biggest "foodie" and craft beer freak you've ever met. Finding a new restaurant or trying something I'd never eaten before was literally my favorite activity, period. I was legendary for my weight-to-ability-to-pound-food ratio (I've always been a stick).

Now, it's rice and chicken (no spices!) from here to the grave. Washed down with water, and nothing but. Coffee in the morning is fine -- thankfully, I'm not yet allergic to that (no OJ, though).

I hate that my best option is "lie and smile" -- saying "I'm not hungry" (when I'm actually starving, made worse by watching everyone else eat and enjoy the camaraderie that only a shared meal can bring, slowly losing blood sugar and trying in vain to combat the moodiness that always accompanies it); or "I need to wake up early" (as an excuse for no drinks; otherwise some asshole pressures you to drink anyway or someone across the table gives you a knowing nod, thinking they've found another fellow AA attendee, which now you'll be talking about later).

And because it smells pretty bad socially to ask for that Happy Hour "compensation" be paid in another way ("hey, mind giving me a check for the money you would've spent on my meal and drinks?" will obviously never fly), I'm now just getting literally paid less than everyone else, and getting left out, and being labelled a social pariah no matter which of the above paths I take.

It sucks.

Life and people are infinitely complex and varied, and those of us reluctantly pushed outside of the mainstream normal are constantly fighting to simply be understood, let alone to not have the only choices thrust upon us be ridiculed.