I've lived for 24 years with my father's problems drastically affecting my life.

When I was young he began compulsive eating. Throughout the years he got up to about 370 pounds. His doctor prescribed him "redux". Long story short the **** made him insane, within a few weeks of taking it he went from my favorite person, someone mild mannered and fair tempered to someone I feared strongly. He would yell at the top of his lungs every day at us and my mother. He threw things at us. He'd binge every day, and used it to bond with us as kids. I developed so many bad habits from him... I'd eat a whole bag of doritos everyday and drink a 2 liter of warm pepsi along with it. I was hiding food under my bed.
As I reached puberty I began to act up a lot, mouthing off and rebelling every chance I could. One day as I did so, he snapped, flipped over the kitchen table and lunged at me. I ran from the house for a good mile before eventually returning home.
After that we always butted heads. He decided to move us to another town, and despite our (my siblings', my mother's, my own) pleas saying that I was just entering high school and we didn't need to move, he did it anyway with a smugness that made me hate him.
I was so isolated and he just made it worse by binging every day in front of the couch ignoring us when he wasn't at work, and by not letting me go out.
We'd get into such loud fights that the neighbors would check up on us.
A lot of time has passed for me since then, we've been through fights (physical and verbal) and I left home as soon as I turned 18...
There was peace until recently when I had to move back in.
I've come to realize that he is out of his mind. He eats constantly. He is diabetic, his legs are rotting away and weeping on a daily basis, he can hardly walk and yet he will sit down and eat 2 bags of microwave popcorn within an hour... sandwiches made of fried sliced hotdogs, butter, and cheese... whole bags of chips... it is just repulsive. We have all tried to talk to him, and he just gets so angry and loud that it isn't worth it.
He has stopped showering... he told my mom that ever since can't he have sex he wants to die.
I hear him crunching himself to death... I haven't even looked him in the eye in easily a year.

Obviously the apple never falls too far from the tree, I am in and out of therapy for borderline personality disorder, major depression, dhysthmia. I have been making an effort to live well, maintain my weight, recognize my own signs of illness.

I just.. sometimes wish he would just die, if he wants to so bad. and the guilt of feeling that way is crushing. I just sometimes hope he will pass in his sleep, some days I just can't bear to hear the popping of popcorn another day.
I consider the task of paramedics trying to haul him away if he ever has a heart attack or something, and it breaks my heart to think that perhaps we will have to tell the dispatch that he is morbidly obese.

This is ruining my life and my ability to live normally. I don't know who could relate to this stuff, maybe someone out there does.

thank you for letting me get that off my chest.