install theme

All we ever talk about in this family is how sick poor little Isi is, how much she suffers because of her brain tumor. I know already, I see her every day, but she’s better now any my mom can’t get over that and she can’t see that she’s making us all sick by how much she wraps us up in the sickness with that hopeless tone and with fear, and its all we ever fucking talk about like she loves being stressed and yanking her hair out over it. Yesterday in the car when she interrupted me talking about school for the third time in ten minutes to talk about how to “heal Isi” or how to “help Isi” or “poor Isi”, I tried to stand up for myself and she hasn’t spoken to me since. It bothers me a lot that I told her how pushed aside I feel and she told me how selfish that was. On top of that my 300 calorie a day diet has been making me very weak and I think emotional too, and I keep hurting Cole because he knows.
I think my problem is that I don’t know who I am. And i’ll never find out either because my mom’s made me a slave to fixing my little sister. There is no Ana. There is only the Ana that works for Isi, and the Ana that works for the other Ana.


Circus Elephant

(via imgTumble)