04-12-2015:
My diet is controlled entirely by my mother. My mind used to be controlled by my father.
She pushes food to the edge of the kitchen table right where I walk past on a daily basis and then tells me "these are here for you" or "these are yours" or "these objects are yours".
I'm supposed to be on a strict Gluten-Free diet and she went and bought Cabanossi and then told me to eat it.
She knows that I have extreme difficulty turning down food and doesn't care if food is gluten free or not.
She has been told repeatedly over the past few weeks how I react badly to Gluten containing foods, that I get extremely angry and irritable, paranoid and delusional and she doesn't care.
She is also taking this matter lightly as with every other matter that I talk to her about. She refuses to educate herself about gluten-free foods but also refuses to stop giving me food to eat.
I've told her repeatedly over the years to stop giving me food, she still refuses to do this.
16-12-2015: I walk past the kitchen table... Mums sitting at her usual spot.
She says: "Do you want some of this light ham?" I say: "I can't eat that stuff anymore, (I'm afraid I'll get a heart attack)"
Mum says "Do you want some of these nuts?"
I notice that there is a bag of beer nuts on the table. They are my beer nuts, I don't think too much about it because I take my parents food all of the time so I just say "Those are my nuts" mum says "oh", I say "its okay I take your food all the time, (I don't see why you can't take mine)."
So I go to the cupboard and look around like I usually do for something healthy to eat. Nothing found. Mum says: Mum says: "There is salsa dip there, and crackers here." So I say: "Yeah but I can't eat them because they might contain gluten" AT this point she has already been told about Gluten and Celiac disease, a week ago, and told that its in pretty much everything... She ignores this or has forgotten about it.
Mum says: "Yeah but water crackers..." she stops in mid sentence. I don't interrupt her. I say: "Yeah but they might contain gluten, feeling like a broken record as usual." So I read the back of the label on the pack of water crackers, I read the Allergy warning info out loud to her:
"May contain: GLUTEN, Soy, etc." She says "Oh". She says "Well theres..."
She stops in mid sentence. Usually she doesn't stop at this point and continues telling me what I should be eating. That's progress I guess?
I walk off and go to the freezer. So I go to the freezer to get a gluten-free sausage roll out of the freezer and I put it on the oven. I put it on in the oven and turn the timer to the amount of time necessary.
I walk into the living room and turn on my $700 Yaesu FT-817 radio to listen to the local repeater while this thunderstorm passes by.
I think to myself about moving out. Then I realise I probably cannot afford it and I certainly cannot afford to run a home business or own a car, or even turn the hot water heater on and have a warm shower while I'm renting.
So I get upset about the state of things and I start bashing the table in the living room with my walking stick, to vent the anger.
I say to her "You're a control freak you know that?, I can't even choose my own fucking lunch in this house!"
"You need SERIOUS help!"
"Fucking Psychopaths the both of you!"
I ended up breaking the stem of an antenna that plugs into the front of the Yaesu FT-817, no damage was done to the radio but I was really upset that I cannot even control my own diet. I've NEVER had control over my own diet, she has ALWAYS controlled it and she REFUSES to give up that control.
Its taken me 20 years after I decided to start controlling my own diet in my early teens to start getting this angry about it that I'm willing to bash a table over it.
My dad has the exact same problem with her, she refuses to allow anyone to control their own diet in HER house.
"Its THEIR house so therefore THEY decide the rules", that's what they used to tell me when I was a kid.
Even if it kills me, apparently.
I manage to deal with this by staying isolated in my room, afraid to walk outside of it for fear that I will be unable to control my binge eating. But its not healthy to do that, I need to do tasks that involve going outside of the room every single day like take a shower or go to the toilet or check the letterbox or go out in the car.
My mother sits there on the right spot, the choke point of the kitchen where I am forced to leave or move through that way every single day.
I cannot wash my hands without going through this area after going to the toilet.
I cannot cook anything without going through this area.
I cannot do anything without going through this area.
Now, I might be a Buddhist, but this is torture and I think she needs to see a counsellor.
It is her religious beliefs that make her think this way, she needs to control everything in her life or else she just goes mad.
Then several hours later on... She begins to cook bacon and eggs. And acts like nothing even happened when I want to eat it. She sits down at the table with dad and listens to the meeting.
She acts nicely towards me and doesn't even consider that her behaviour was in some way abnormal or wrong or controlling in any way. She still thinks she is perfect.
I of course was attracted to the Bacon and eggs, as my bedroom is downwind of the kitchen. No question as to why I ate them because I smelt them as they cooked for at least an hour.
She knows exactly what she is doing. And I have no way of altering her behaviour at all. No amount of agreement or promise is ever good enough to try and stop her from overfeeding me. She wants me dead. I don't know why.
In fact she is blaming me for the overeating and telling her friend CENSORED that my dad and me are to blame for everything.
I think that she may be a "covert narcissist".
My dad is of course an open narcissist.
It should be noted that I used to pretend to pack my briefcase when I was a teenager and my parents would tease me about it. I used to want to run away from home and I remember now that I used to pack a small briefcase of my belongings and go and stand by the front door and wait for somebody to come and pick me up. Nobody ever came of course I just waited for something to happen even if it made me feel better I did it.
There was one point in time when I was a teenager that I used to think I was a butler.