I had an epic battle with my dad today, and I think I'm done trying to help him.
He got up at his usual time, around 11ish. He asked me if there was any reason he couldn't have a potato for breakfast. I couldn't think of one. A small potato is about 43 g of carbohydrates. So he had his breakfast and was happy.
Then around about 4:30, I heard him microwaving something else. Given that dinnertime was just around the corner, I had a vested interest in figuring out what he was up to. Come to find out he was microwaving another potato. When I asked him why, he said he hadn't had lunch. I explained to him that was because he had breakfast at 11:00, and dinner was just about ready. When I went to the microwave to look for the potato, it was gone.
I asked him where the potato was. He said he had put it in the cupboard. I asked him repeatedly which cupboard, but he kept changing the subject. Then he said he would handle putting it in the refrigerator himself. I lost my ѕhit at this point, and I don't mind saying I yelled rather excessively. I came out to the garage where I keep my PS4 and my bunnies and tried to relax.
When I went back in, I very calmly asked him which cupboard the potato was in. He said if he told me, I would get mad. I promised him I wasn't going to get mad, and asked him again. He said he would take care of it. At this point, I was envisioning a cupboard full of sugary treats that he was afraid I would find. I flipped out again, and was on my way out of the house when my mom pulled in the driveway.
I informed her that I was leaving, and she of course wanted to know why. The conclusion she drew from the story that followed was that my dad had eaten the potato. She immediately went in and tested his blood sugar, and it was 103. (That's good, for you non-diabetics reading this.) I flat out asked my dad if he had eaten the potato, and he answered yes. Mom asked him why he bothered to lie, and he laughed about it. He laughed.
Shrugging my shoulders, I proceeded to start making dinner. As I was going back and forth, my mom announced that she had found the potato we thought Dad ate. He had hidden it in the cupboard where I keep the low carb diabetic friendly snacks for him to find. Neither of us were in the kitchen when she told me, so I went to look, and the potato was gone. We found out that my dad had snuck in there while I was out of the room and eaten the damn thing.
I'm at the end of my rope, folks. I can't take this childish bullѕhit that he pulls. I'm about ready to say fuсk it and put him in a home somewhere. Because why should I take the time and effort to try and help him when he's just going to treat me like ѕhit? He plays these little kid games with his life, and then he laughs about it. What conclusion am I supposed to draw? At this stage, I just have to assume it's all a game to him, that it's all about outwitting me to get what he wants and he doesn't care that it's killing him.
So if he doesn't care that he's killing himself, I'd like someone to explain to me why I should. Because I'm just about out of reasons.
Then around about 4:30, I heard him microwaving something else. Given that dinnertime was just around the corner, I had a vested interest in figuring out what he was up to. Come to find out he was microwaving another potato. When I asked him why, he said he hadn't had lunch. I explained to him that was because he had breakfast at 11:00, and dinner was just about ready. When I went to the microwave to look for the potato, it was gone.
I asked him where the potato was. He said he had put it in the cupboard. I asked him repeatedly which cupboard, but he kept changing the subject. Then he said he would handle putting it in the refrigerator himself. I lost my ѕhit at this point, and I don't mind saying I yelled rather excessively. I came out to the garage where I keep my PS4 and my bunnies and tried to relax.
When I went back in, I very calmly asked him which cupboard the potato was in. He said if he told me, I would get mad. I promised him I wasn't going to get mad, and asked him again. He said he would take care of it. At this point, I was envisioning a cupboard full of sugary treats that he was afraid I would find. I flipped out again, and was on my way out of the house when my mom pulled in the driveway.
I informed her that I was leaving, and she of course wanted to know why. The conclusion she drew from the story that followed was that my dad had eaten the potato. She immediately went in and tested his blood sugar, and it was 103. (That's good, for you non-diabetics reading this.) I flat out asked my dad if he had eaten the potato, and he answered yes. Mom asked him why he bothered to lie, and he laughed about it. He laughed.
Shrugging my shoulders, I proceeded to start making dinner. As I was going back and forth, my mom announced that she had found the potato we thought Dad ate. He had hidden it in the cupboard where I keep the low carb diabetic friendly snacks for him to find. Neither of us were in the kitchen when she told me, so I went to look, and the potato was gone. We found out that my dad had snuck in there while I was out of the room and eaten the damn thing.
I'm at the end of my rope, folks. I can't take this childish bullѕhit that he pulls. I'm about ready to say fuсk it and put him in a home somewhere. Because why should I take the time and effort to try and help him when he's just going to treat me like ѕhit? He plays these little kid games with his life, and then he laughs about it. What conclusion am I supposed to draw? At this stage, I just have to assume it's all a game to him, that it's all about outwitting me to get what he wants and he doesn't care that it's killing him.
So if he doesn't care that he's killing himself, I'd like someone to explain to me why I should. Because I'm just about out of reasons.
