Sometimes I think I need to extend my chosen family by at least one, because there are days when I wish I had the calming feeling of knowing, "Yes, there are people who would welcome me into their household any day, no questions asked, and would be delighted that I was there for meals." It hasn't been like that for me since the day my grandma died (though technically it hasn't been like that since she moved into the nursing home, but I bet if I'd shown up with the car and said, "Hop in, lady, I'm bustin' you outta here!" she would have gone for it). But in some ways I've never really felt like that, at least not since my mom kicked me out, but she made it clear to me long before the day after I turned 18 (and got the boot) that she was looking to move me on because I was getting in between her and her boyfriend.
Anyway. A little more about me and what makes me my own special trainwreck. I've often felt like people who knew they had that place to go, those people to welcome them are a little bit mentally better off than I am.