If NM and EF do not see me eat, for some inexplicable, insane reason they believe I didn’t eat. Even more insane is that they believe they have to make sure I eat.
These are the same people who cheat me out of my alone time in the kitchen.
They have been repeatedly told to not talk to me about diet, my eating, anything to do with food because they have been so callous and cruel about my eating in the past. They’ve ignored the requests.
Now, they have the unmitigated gaul to express concern about my eating habits.
Where were they when I was denied the right to eat at any time but meal time? Oh, that’s right. They were the ones who denied me.
Where were they when I was punished for taking too much or too little? Oh, that’s right. They were the ones who punished me.
Where were they when I was fed food that made me sick? Oh, that’s right. They were the ones who made me eat it.
Where were they when I was accused of stealing food? Oh, that’s right. They were the ones who accused me. Adding insult to injury, they were the ones who had taken the food.
To have them ask me if I had a chance to eat is the epitome of hypocrisy. If they were so concerned about me eating, then they’d shut up about food. They’d make absolutely certain I had quiet, private time in the kitchen every day. They’d never ask me if I had a chance to eat because they’d know I’m smart enough to take care of something so basic. Neither would they pretend like they care about my eating, considering all the disastrous, despicable things they’ve done to me regarding food.
For people who say they care about me and want a relationship with me, they have a funny way of showing it.
How do you explain to liars that lying is unacceptable behavior and a deal breaker for any kind of relationship?
I’m a caretaker. They can pretend whatever they want. I’m a daughter by DNA only.
Update: I wrote this, last week, needing to express all the hurt and frustration. What brought it on? I was petsitting. I’d visit the dog three times a day. It was easier to eat there. How I enjoyed making simple meals without a single comment from anyone, not even the dog. No one traipsed through the kitchen. One day, I stopped at Panda Express and enjoyed it for lunch, for the next three days. I ate up food left in the fridge that wouldn’t keep, as directed by the owners. It was peaceful, unhurried. No one looking over my shoulder. No one subtly crowding me, letting me know I was in the way. No one leaving messes all over the counters. More flexibility with when I ate. It was wonderful.
Several times during the week both NM and EF expressed concern about me not eating. I’m not stupid. I’m not incapable. I’m not a one-year-old unable to feed myself. The supposed concern was insulting and annoying. Their need to control every aspect of my life, down to what and where I eat, is infuriating, only because anger is more comfortable than fear.
Unfortunately, petsitting is done. Nothing here has changed. I’m in the way, taking up space. Counters are left dirty and dotted with food and dirty dishes. Sinks are often filled, usually one, sometimes both. A new game has been started: They walk around and around the house, walking through the kitchen on their circuit, getting exercise, during the time I’m supposed to be left alone in the kitchen. They’re only walking through, over and over and over, while I’m making my dinner. I make it as fast as I can so I can get out of the circling. One of many bits of insanity.
I’m tired. Tired of being in the way. Tired of feeling like a burden. Tired of banging my head against the wall. Tired of feeling incompetent. Tired of feeling stupid. Tired of the rats’ maze in my head with no escape. Tired.
I need to walk away. How? God and I need to have a long talk.
About the photo: Sorry, this one is blurry. It’s the same tree from the post two days ago. The first was into the sunrise, and this one is with the sunrise behind me. I liked the contrast, but didn’t realize it was blurry.