Lately, I’ve been having issues in my brain. Duhh. I’ve been thinking a lot about what would happen if I told my parents. What would happen to my family. You see, my family is the perfect family. Nothing ever ever ever happens in my family. No one gets divorced, no one drinks, smokes, addicted to drugs. No one has babies before they’re married. It just doesn’t happen in my family. (please note I am NOT bashing anyone or their family that goes through these.)
If I were to let my family in on my little secret, I would be the bug to screw up my family. Finally, something WRONG happened to my family. Something that would ruin their perfect image. Something that would give them a little shake. But I NEED something. Sometimes I wonder if my mom really could help. Or if she would just lock me in the basement and never let me see the light of day in fear of being imperfect. The pressure to be perfect in my family is so high. My brother and sister have both been wonderful children and never have anything like this happen to them. And I would be the one to screw everything up. Which makes me want to SI more, so I do. Ugh. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I get my life together like everyone else.