To My 'Chosen Family,' Who Sticks Around Even When I Wouldn't


I’m not quite sure what I’ve done to deserve you, my chosen family. It’s not like we are blood related —  you have no obligation to stick around, and yet, you do. And I know I am far from the most easy person to deal with.

My Asperger’s makes communicating my emotions difficult. I either keep them trapped inside, or they bubble over in a flood of chaos. My post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) causes me to go into periods of intense, “crazy” blackouts where I don’t know where I am. In those times, I can lash out. My chronic pain conditions make me grumpy and can stop me from doing things I once did without a second thought. But still you are there.

My PTSD stems from childhood trauma and abuse, things I haven’t really spoken about in detail with a lot of people because of their very nature. I choose not to relive what happened in graphic detail for the sake of my own sanity. But I know the abuse has caused many issues for me. The most difficult ones to deal with are the abandonment and trust issues. Oh how I wish I could control that voice in my head when it starts to play on those issues. And most of the time I can. But when it creeps under my skin in unexpected ways, it is capable of destroying everything.

The number of times I’ve almost lost one of you because of that voice, the number of times I feel I should have lost one of you because of it, is more than I can count. And yet by some miracle, I haven’t. I look back over conversations I have had with some of you, and I question how you are still here, but please know that I am very very grateful that you are.

I’m trying to beat that voice. I’m trying not to push you away like the PTSD monster would have me do. I want to be the person you all apparently see inside of me. I want to find that person. They must be there because you are all still here by my side. Thank you for for your patience, your love, your kindness and your support. It’s a long journey, I know. But for every seemingly easy step backward, I take two hesitant, but definite, steps forward.

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Unsplash photo via I’m Priscilla.


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