continued from the last post...

...and though I suck, many people who have PTSD and DID are much more crippled than I am. These conditions are devastating. My family doesn't understand, but I do. In spite of my problems, I DO take care of them. If not for me and my actions in spite of my problems, we would be poor, we'd live in a shitty neighborhood, no one would have decent medical care, there would be no fancy private schools and worse -- my children would not be sufficiently protected from my toxic family of origin. Maybe it is a compliment that they cannot understand me and where I come from. They have no frame of reference. They just don't know what it's like to live with such a misery. They don't know because I DO MY JOB. I'm sorry I can't add frills like going on vacations that are overwhelming to me or socializing with other parents, but I do my job to the very best of my ability. Many people who do not have my problems do not do as good a job as I do. I am not perfect, but I DO do my job and I keep trying. Yes, I'm slow, things are hard for me, and I always seem to fall short in some way or another, but I still keep doing my job. I keep coming out to do what's necessary even after I have to go to ground to keep my sanity. Maybe someday they will understand a little bit, BUT I AM GLAD THEY WILL NEVER REALLY KNOW. They won't know what this feels like. They won't know because I do my job. I understand and appreciate all of this, but I still feel alone. The odd person out in the family. Sometimes it doesn't feel that much different from when I was the scapegoat in my family of origin.