I'd like to do this in a Q&amp;A-ish format because it'd be a daunting task to describe the complexity in prose and frankly my head is in hot mess. When I wrote in r/bipolar earlier on, folks there think I should be describing borderline personality disorder rather than bipolar, and there's a chance of misdiagnosis. Below is what I've written as a cue in; any kind of advice &amp; help is genuinely appreciated.

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He's suicidal, dangerously misanthropic &amp; antisocial (having seriously plotted about murdering his ex-girlfriends and very much likely our family too), openly egocentric &amp; narcissistic, and during my adolescence physically, verbally,&amp; emotionally abusive to me, fully acknowledged by my parents who penalised me and never once him. My parents revolve around him all his life and berate me when I stand up for myself and for them; they force me to 'love him' and 'accept his love' while enabling his abusive behaviour. I thought taking a break from living with them during my last five years of studies away home would help me put things in perspective, but every waking moment in my home reminds me of things they acted on and said to me that I'd rather not have to remember.

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One of my parents is an SEN (special educational needs) counsellor, so they attribute his 'problems' as being 'gifted'. According to my brother's own account (written online in an identifiable pseudonym) he rejects the idea of counselling and tried a bit of expressive art therapy before abandoning it. Then after he finished college he shared about using medication which he also soon abandoned.

His instability has been eating me up all my life and numbed me out emotionally; my parents apparently only think he should be allowed to be who he is even at the expense of our own wellbeing.

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"I think he's sick and needs treatment" is what I said to my parents verbatim eight years ago (therefore two years since his diagnosis) when he destroyed my personal possessions after losing on a video game, moments before my school exams (not to mention how he'd kept me sleepless for years this way); it was followed by three hours of yelling about how I'm the worst son for being selfish and insensitive, and even their family dramas when they were my age and I should be grateful I didn't have to endure what they did. (And my parents turned out to come from a long line of mental illness history running in their families)