It's easier to get epidurals & live on opiates than stop shoving food into gullet This is just a little rant. As you all know, I'm permanently disabled. You also know that my grandmother is a fat piece of shit. It has gotten exponentially worse in the last two years. Don't get me wrong, the whole family has tried. We have been nice. Supportive. Understanding. We've tried modifying our own lifestyles to make things easier for her. We've cheered her on every time she tried a new workout regimen. We've tried ignoring. We've tried shitlording. I've done everything from showing her how to track calories and do my cripple-level physical therapy to throwing out all her hidden stashes. Nothing. Works. What probably aggravates me on top of all this is that she is the most controlling, hypocritical former-human I've ever known. I don't get to even look at food without her trying to control me. I don't get to go to the bathroom without comment. I don't get to go to sleep without her butting in, and she refuses to respect that I can use an alarm to wake myself up and that I can drive my own car to places without her tailing me and laying on the horn constantly. I don't get to wear clothes without being interrogated about where I got them, how much I paid, and being told how I could have made decisions better. And suffice it to say she is an emasculating, disrespectful, micromanaging bitch to her husband. You'd think someone with this much time and energy to devote to instilling control issues in others would have a decent sense of self control. But no. She was prediabetic for years and did nothing. She's so fat, she can't sleep without her fat bag sacks crushing her windpipe, so she relies on a CPAP. She complains constantly about pain, ignoring the fact that she has subjected her skeleton to three times the amount of gravity it was designed to withstand. She "tried" to ride a bicycle but fell over. Not off, over. She has started getting epidurals twice a year to combat her failings as a decent human being, because that's so much easier and logical than not being a glutton. Mind you, this woman has had an incredibly easy life. She has no demons or obstacles to overcome beyond her own laziness. The nail in the coffin was the voicemail I heard today. She made an appointment with the pain institute that I went to when I was recovering from having my spine and pelvis crushed by an SUV. It was bad enough that she has the audacity to whine to me about her pain is sooo terrible while I'm sitting her with a permanently fucked body. She does it to other people too and no one in the neighborhood bothers to ask her about herself anymore - all she talks about is herself, no matter the subject. Someone literally had cancer and she managed to make it about her ankle. But now she thinks she needs the same pain treatments that I needed. She's seeking out Fentanyl and oxycodone to treat something that would be gone in 6 months if she'd just stop being such a fucking pig. I'm done. Not just with caring about the situation, but with her entirely. I am not a bad or heartless person... I would not feel this way if she didn't drive me to it. This is my last holiday season with my family. I am fucking. done.