Losing the perfect picture

Its been a rough little bit. I'm one with an opinion and though I might not seem so confident, I still have an ideal of how things are supposed to work out.
A couple of years ago my counselor told me that I needed to be more forgiving of myself, that if I didn't accomplish something that it was "ok" and that I could still move on. I also started counseling about the ideal of this "perfect family" and how distressing it was that I wasn't getting the "right" feedback at the time. I wanted people to be supportive, willing to fight for me, stand up for me and accept me for who I am, mistakes and all. I held people in my family high up on a pedestal and became frustrated when this perfect family didn't fulfill my needs. My counselor gave me an article about dysfunctional families and the losing of this childhood dream/ideal of having a perfect family. The one thing that has stayed with me over the past few years is the comment that it is similar to having someone close to you die, it is that type of grieving process.
It has been a hard process. I revert to anger and frustration often, especially when my friends talk about how close their families are and how they would do anything for their family. Much like a 10 year old (my stuck in frustration age) I want to stamp my feet and demand that the ones that are supposed to be protecting me to actually pay attention and own up to their responsibilities.
While I'm learning to re-learn how to have a positive relationship with my family though its not the picture perfect family I had always dreamed of, Kayla is going through the same thing with her mom. Often she makes the comment that her mom's boyfriend is at fault for "stealing her mom away and ruining her ability to hang out with her mom". No matter how often we talk about how her mom is able to make choices of her own, Kayla sticks with the ideal; her mom can't do any wrong because how can a mom ignore their own child and put their own self first? What a bell that has rung for me. Brings me right back to my own beliefs on what a family should do. Where is the full support no matter what? And even in my case; where is the support of being a victim in something that has scarred me for life? Again, its the 10 year old in me that still holds on to the hope that someone from my family will understand and come to my side.
I learned to knit when I was in high school. It was a joke amongst the group I went with that I had to be perfect with the knitting, would rip out a whole project if I dropped a stitch because I didn't want it to look less than perfect. My counselors now nod at me and smile when I talk about being OCD. Apparently its part of the diagnosis of GAD and PTSD.
I just went to see my counselor (it has been awhile) and we talked about getting comfort from others, who gave that to me and holding on to that image of people giving me comfort to help me feel better about myself. The image that came into my head was a blanket. I had just gone to a yarn store with Will's mom and I bought the softest yarn. Tonight I started my project of making a blanket. The type of yarn is hard to work with and I'm supposed to knit 5 and then purl 5, 125 stitches in all. I decided to let go of the OCD and I will just let it happen. The image of this perfect blanket for me to snuggle up in, isn't as important as remembering the point of having it, to gain comfort by remembering those that can and do give me the comfort that I need, no matter how silly it is.
Feeling confident and loved is a hard thing to do, especially with a limited support system. I am so thankful to my friends, Will and the few family members that listen, empathize with me and strive to make a meaningful connection with me.