Family isn’t related

“Family don’t end with blood, it sure as hell don’t start there either”

-Bobby Singer (Supernatural)

How often have I wished I could escape these dense triggering people that I share genes with? It must be near infinity now. How can people that are supposed to be like me, be so different? They’re the root cause for most of my disorders and I’m supposed to love them. Just because we’re related? If you can’t relate to me then you’re not family in my book.

My family, my friends and people I love for choosing me, are there for me during my break downs, cheer on my creative ideas and will defend me from anyone who means harm even though they know I can kick ass myself. Some of them I’ve only known for days, weeks maybe and I already have a stronger bond with them than those aunts that I only see at the christmas dinners they ruin.

Just now I’m hiding in school, broken and on the verge of tears because of what my mom said last night. If it weren’t for my family I’d have cried all night and gotten no shut eye which would mean I couldn’t go to school and had to stay with my “family”. I’m a recovering Anorexic (Bones) and my other disorders had me stress eat recently, the acne was bad enough but for her to call me pudgy really hurt. It didn’t stick with once which could have been the slip of the tongue, no she had to make sure to shatter my confidence by reasoning with me until I agreed.

Now Bones is back full force making me doubt every bite I take and plan what meals I can avoid. After all the effort and pain it took me to shut her up and stop being a skeleton I’m starving myself again. Gee, what a great mom I have. I opened up to her for the first time in forever too. Hell, even my teachers are more understanding and they’re not great people.

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