I hate this. I don't mean to single the OP out, but I hate this more than anything I read on here.
Okay, maybe the people around you didn't always know the best way to approach you, to care for you as you need to be cared for. That doesn't mean they didn't feel for you; it doesn't mean they didn't feel love for you or want to shield you and protect you. Maybe they did their best. Maybe they had to spend most of their resources taking care of themselves, because they realized no one else would do it. But maybe they spent everything they had left over on you. Actually, maybe they spent more than they could afford on you, because you were precious to them and they wanted to keep you safe, and your safety began to mean as much to them as their own safety.
Maybe all they wanted was to see you happy, and they hoped and prayed that you would pull your own weight a bit, and not leave it to anyone else to save you. Because they knew you were strong and fearless and more than capable of it when you chose to be. Maybe that's part of why they loved you, was your strength when pressed. Because try as they might they couldn't summon the resources to protect both of you, and so they knew it was up to the two of you to make strong things, to build a real, solid foundation where things could grow. Things like children, like art, like all the things worth building, things you look back on at the end. Not a perfect foundation maybe, but one that stood a chance in the face of a mean and destructive and selfish world.
I don't understand this, this feeling that everyone takes advantage of you. What have you given to anyone else recently? What have you sacrificed? What have you done without, because you wanted to see someone else happy? After you've spent your share, what do you do with what's left? I try always to take only what I need and spare what's left for the people I love. I don't understand this accusation that I've failed, this assertion that I've disappointed everyone because secretly I didn't care. I care so much. I don't care about anything else in the world, really, but the happiness of those I hold dear.
Please try to grow and see what it means to give, to see your gifts sent back over and over, to stay strong in the face of every one who accuses you of failing, who insists that because they still hurt you must not have tried hard enough. Try to fly hard against their accusations, their judgments. Maybe then you will know what it means to love.