Only when I was vomiting over twenty times a day, walking twenty five miles a day, and starving myself for days, did my mom actually find me beautiful. While most moms would be reassuring and supportive, mine was always quick to tell me to quit or I was not capable.

My little sister was always the smart, skinny, beautiful one. I was always scolded for being jealous of her, but really, I never in the slightest wanted to be her, I just wanted a little validation that I could do more in life than work fast food flipping burgers living off welfare.

It’s strange to think back to when I was friends with my daughters parents. When did they stop believing in my good moods? My moods where I convinced myself life was officially going to change right then? Where from then on my life would be absolutely perfect? That I was going to change….When did they start seeing my manic episodes for what they were and rather being happy for me….they started feeling sorry for me? They were the most logical people you could meet, at some point, they could make me out for what I really was….

This time though…I’ve been working on this for months. Next time they see me I will be successful and completely self sufficient. I will prove everyone wrong who has ever told me to quit and that I could never amount to anything.

Published by Unbreakable Kitten

Headed East towards the horizon

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