Susan and the Hemorrhoid I developed to ruin her life.

A quick background: I have always been a picky eater. Textures, smells, etc all bother me. After I had my second child I was diagnosed with ARFID and as a supertaster, and life suddenly made sense. I still don't eat a lot of things and can go 2 or 3 days without food before getting hungry. It's just my thing.

So, with that being said, this occurred when Susan was still married to my dad. She was of the idea that I was just being a stubborn kid (she didn't allow me BREAD till I was a teen because I would get fat, come on), and would often come up with stupid new shit to try on me (like eggplant casserole??) and then would make me sit at the table until I finished, which NEVER HAPPENED.

When I was about 7, I noticed some blood on the tissue when I wiped. I was scared to death and told Susan, who ruled it a hemorrhoid, and then screamed at me for an hour because "I caused this!" and it was going to "take up time and money!" and hemorrhoids happen when you 'don't eat vegetables, and if you don't start eating them you're going to end up not able to poop and your stomach will have to be pumped and you'll have to wear a BAG! And everyone will laugh at you!"

So, instead of taking her 7 year old with a hemorrhoid to a doctor or offering preparation H or a tucks pad or something, she made me feel like it was all my fault (and I actually would go as long as I could as a kid without eating because I didn't want to poop and hurt).

When I called her out on it when I was pregnant with my oldest, she laughed and said "well, you'll learn that us mothers have to do what we can to make our lives easier."

No. Just.... No.