everyone’s always thought that my parents have been there for me and that i have had a good childhood but no. 

yes my father was there in my life but no he wasn’t.
yes i’m privileged to have parents who understand my condition and are trying their best to support me but that doesn’t make up for the 
years of getting screamed at and physically abused  by my own mother.
years of not feeling loved, heard or approved of.
years of feeling the need to fit in, so much that now i need good grades to feel like i am a part of the family.
years of loving my favourite person, only for her to change and not care about me now.