Dysfunction is a fact of life. The sweet, sweet dissimilitude between you and the ones that made you. A hilariously poignant experience it is -- living; and we do so without ever asking to play a role in this tangled Iliad.

Family. The mold that we shape our lives from. The well we draw from in times of great need. Overbearing abundance or startling lack, there is no difference. You were made in the image of the imperfect. Perfect.

Some of us compartmentalize the most precious parts of ourselves for others and tuck away our needs so that they can raise the next generation, some leave. The half-life varies. No family is the same, all families are nuclear.