I've been visiting my parents lately, and it's easy to see why I got so sick after visiting them last year. The two of them have a really good talent for making anyone feel like a total sack of shit.
My father is the worst. He watches all kinds of trash tv, and feels compelled, whenever he sees a girl who is only moderately attractive instead of Hollywood attractive, to yell at the screen, "She looks like a man!" He does it with a sneer of, "Thank God I'm perfect!"
He loves to throw that same sneer at me across the table. If we order out at a restaurant, no matter WHAT I order, he makes that little sound of disapproval and then subtly shakes his head and pretends to stare back at his menu. If I've ordered something heavy, it's "do you know how many calories that is?" And if I've ordered something light it's, "you're gonna make yourself sick like that." I can't win.
And no matter how thin mom gets, she's never thin enough. "Oh, I'm so fat." Even though she's considerably thinner and definitely more fit than me. She exercises like crazy. She loves to use so much work as an excuse to skip meals.
Yesterday I did a little shopping before I stopped over to the house, and when they saw my bags they were perky. "Ooh! Show us what you got!!" For a moment I was proud, ready to parade my shopping savvy because I'd gotten a $50 dress for $17. But when I pulled it out to show them, Dad said, "Psh. That's a pretty wild print. S'gonna make your hips look huge." and Mom said, "Oh, it's not that bad. I'd wear it." So I suggested she should try it on. And she says in that mockingly patronizing tone, "Oh I couldn't possibly fit into it. My waist isn't near as small as yours," knowing damn-well it's a lie.
Just fuck me sideways.
So I went out last night with a friend for sushi. Bless his heart, he tries to feed me as often as he can. And I actually feel comfortable with him, like he's doing it because he cares about me not because he's trying to make me gain weight. And he matches me bite for bite, so there can be no guilt in either direction.
But when I saw dad this morning, sure enough he gripes, "Do you know how many grams of fat are in that sushi? Those cuts of fish are pretty oily!"
You weren't even fucking THERE, Dad!!!
Of course I kept a mental tally. I told him I didn't eat more than 500 calories worth of sushi last night, which is rounded up. "Well," he protests, "that's definitely better for you than the 375-calorie burger I had."
Yeah. What he doesn't tell you is that he ate that 380-burger (I looked it up) with a 400-calorie small fries and a 400-calorie bowl of chili. Not to mention the large Vault drink, which brings his meal to well over 1000 calories!
Fuck you, Dad!
So you can see how visiting my parents is not the best thing for my eating disorder.