Well, actually, I haven’t always been drinking blood and haven’t always known its taste. Blood? Damn it, it's kind of weird to try this substance on purpose. Just imagine yourself going to the store and asking, “Excuse me, do you by chance have any blood? I'd like to try it." Well, in fact, there are no promoters offering a few milliliters of this red liquid for tasting either. So everything was spontaneous and unexpected.
This happened when I went to the kindergarten. I was probably 5 years old. When my group and I went for a walk, I decided to show my friends how I could do somersaults on the bar and climbed on it to demonstrate my new skill. My elder brother Steve has taught me this the day before and I performed this trick so many times that I had no doubts about my success.
In short, while performing the acrobatic stunts, something went wrong, my hands slipped off the bar and I fell down hitting my face hard against the ground. Don't ask where the teacher was, I don't remember that right now.
I think it's not worth describing the pain that I had experienced, but apart from it, I bit my tongue really hard and busted my lip from the inside, so my mouth was filled with blood. Its taste seemed very unusual to me, so I stopped crying really quickly and began to lick my bloody mouth. This was a terrible sight, I’m telling you. And that day I realized that this red salty liquid captured my heart forever.
The next incident happened when I spent too much time in the sun so my nose started bleeding. At that time, I was 8 or 9 years old and instead of panicking or trying to stop the bleeding, I… relaxed and started to enjoy.
This was seen by my mother who came out of the sea and needed the help of doctors because not every day, one can see their child drinking their own blood. And a serious conversation with my parents, grandma, and a psychologist awaited me. However, no deviations were found in me. “She loves the taste of blood... Just like you love chicken livers, clay or the smell of gasoline. Anything can happen in life,” the psychiatrist told my parents.
You know, I didn't even imagine that this taste could be so addictive. And every day, I really wanted to take at least a sip of blood. But where could I get it? I can’t engage in self-mutilation and self-harm. I love myself too much to do that. However, this issue was soon resolved by itself.
One day my mother came home with groceries and asked me to unpack the food products. There were a lot of delicious things there, but a bag of beef liver caught my attention. And later everything was blurred. I opened it mechanically, took out juicy pieces of liver and began to suck on them. Yummy... It tasted really good, much better than I had expected.
Then my mother came into the kitchen. She again felt sick and needed doctors’ help because she was not ready at all for such a turn of events. Well, she can’t stand the sight of blood and, in general, she has weak female nerves, unlike me.
Since then, I have often begun to sinfully enjoy raw meat and liver, but my mom could not come to terms with this. Sometimes it seems to me that I should have been born somewhere in a cannibal family or in some northern family where people eat raw meat. But instead of this, I have to live with my tender mother and shock her every time.
Yeah, yeah, I shocked her not 2 or 3 times, but over 10 times, and then she had to accept the fact that her daughter adores the taste of blood and cannot live without it. Rather, we found a compromise that everyone was okay with.
Once my mother was frying steaks and, as always, I asked her not to do this, but just give me my piece of meat instead. However, she asked me to try it first... as if I had never eaten it before.
Although, the result exceeded all my expectations because my mother cooked a rare steak. It was just incredible. On the one hand, it was a ready-made dish, but on the other hand, this was raw meat with blood. Pure pleasure! And from that day on, rare steaks and liver with blood became my favorite dishes. Actually, this was our compromise with my mother, she did not agree to anything else.
At the age of 13, I went to the scout camp and it was really difficult for me to hold out without rare food for more than 2 days. I don’t know why parents didn’t take it into account it when signing the documents, but this is not important anymore. The fact is that I went there.
Well, it’s not hard to guess that it was already on the third day that I was really lacking the food I was used to. And this was because the cooks refused to feed the child with the rare meat and were frying the pieces of goulash for me until they got black. I was very sad and upset. There were more than 2 weeks like this ahead...