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The Breakfast Incident


A few weeks ago, we came back from our 6-week "family" trip to Thailand. Before that, we spent a week in Thunder Bay which is Tim's hometown. We stayed with his parents in his childhood home.  That's where it all started, really.

 Tim skyped them two days ago. His mom cried a lot, again. "She still can't get over the breakfast thing," he says. He's referring to the time I spent all day resenting her because I thought she was out to get me.  She had been increasingly rude to me, and it was taking all of my strong will to not cry in front of them.  By that time, I was running to the bathroom every couple hours to cry it out for fifteen minutes or so.  There was some sort of false sense of hope that they thought I had diarrhea. (Of course I didn't, and of course my eyes were to red to consider it.) I had already explained-more than once- that I couldn't and didn't eat breakfast, because Im not hungry in the morning and it always leaves me nauseous. I wake up late anyways, so it works out that I'm usually hungry by lunchtime. I come downstairs and she rushes over to the kitchen when she sees me. I don't realize this is for me, so I waddle around, saying hi to Tims dad as I look for Tim.  I find him in the living room, checking out tvtropes on his computer. That's when his mom calls me over from the kitchen. 

 When I walk in, she says (in what I then thought was a too-sweet voice) that’s she’s prepped all the ingredients for an omelette for me.  She shows me the cut-up vegetables.  Then, she says that she’s made sure to use olive oil for me (She likes to use coconut oil—I hate coconut) as she shows me the pan full of steaming hot oil.  The next part is up for discussion: I remember her clearly identifying that the oil was hot, she denies ever pointing it out.  It doesn’t matter too much, because we agree that the oil was on the pan and already hot.  I can’t refuse.  So I agree to the omelette, eat it, feel nauseous for the next hour, and resent her for the next day for putting me into that position.

Tim, fed up with how broken I had been feeling, had decided to take things into his own hands.  Even though I disagreed at first, he ended up confronting them and clearly explaining that he didn’t like the way they had been addressing and treating me.  Nevermind the fact that they barely registered what he said during that one-hour conversation, constantly repeating that he wasn’t thinking straight and that I was putting words into his mouth… manipulating him, turning them against me.  He used a couple examples of ways I had felt forced, left out, or hurt: he mentioned the breakfast incident.  She took offense at the fact that I had thought it was malicious, and it’s all she seems to remember from that conversation.

Which leads me to now:  Tim’s Mom crying over skype every time they call each other.  Never mind the fact that I forgave and believed her the second Tim told me she said it wasn’t intentional.  Which I told her.

She didn’t believe me.
(That’s the problem.)