**CW: Mention of eating disorders, suicidal thoughts, self-harm and violent fantasies**

**This will be VERY long, so I will divide it into sections; Background, Enter The Shitty Boyfriend, Boiling Point, The Incident, Where I’m At Now**

**Background:** I’ve been estranged from my older sister, and only sibling, since my mid-teens. We are only two years apart, so this estrangement did take place under our parents’ roof. 

She is a truly awful, cruel person. Even my psychiatrist clearly hates her, and he’s never met her. Just hearing some of the awful quotes from, and stories about, her will make anyone with half a conscience dislike her.

I struggled a lot throughout my adolescence, and was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), C-PTSD and GAD at the age of 19. 

One of the factors, among many, that contributed to the development of such severe mental health struggles is the hostile home environment caused by my sister’s cruelty and outbursts. This is not the main factor, but it certainly didn’t help and it was very difficult living with her.

She treats everyone like shit, even our own parents. Seeing her treat my mum and dad the way she does makes me want to punch her in the face. I can’t stand her. She is an entitled, arrogant, racist, sexist, homophobic, elitist, self-absorbed bitch. If she died tomorrow, I’d be relieved. I’d feel bad for more parents, but that’d be the extent of my “grief”.

She tries to make my father, a highly successful entrepreneur, feel inferior to her because he didn’t get to complete his university degree (he had to drop out due to family reasons and support his siblings), when he paid for her private university fees in full. My dad is smarter and more successful than she will ever be. Luckily, my dad doesn’t take her shit, and it’s satisfying when he puts her back in her place.
Nonetheless, I can tell it still gets to him.

She also berates and bullies my mother constantly. My mother is her personal chauffeur, on-call 24/7. My mum will drive her places on barely any sleep, putting her own safety and the safety of pedestrians at risk. 

My mum has a history of mental health issues, stemming from a traumatic childhood, and my bitch of a sister only intensifies them. 

For example, she berates my mum about her weight, when she struggled with eating disorders in her late teenage years-early adulthood. She always does this with a sly, smug look on her face. Whenever I see her do this, I absolutely lose it and rip into her. Seeing my mum hurting, especially because of that bitch, makes me fucking lose it. Ironically, my sister has always been overweight, whereas I have always been naturally thin, something she absolutely hates (she used to call me “Ana”, short for “anorexic”, when I was around 7-11 years old).

I largely blame her for the rapid decline in my mum’s mental state over the past few years; my mum wears the same thing everyday, can hardly think clearly, has delusions, never sees her friends anymore, can barely function, overeats, etc. It breaks my heart, because she is the kindest person I’ve ever met.

I’ve always been the favourite child, something my parents will never admit but struggle to always keep hidden. My mum has always adored me, and views me as the baby of the family, the “tiny” and “pretty” one, etc. My dad and I are more like friends, and have the same weird sense of humour. 

This just aggravates my sister more. My mum will gush about how “gorgeous” my figure is, and then not long after berate my sister on her food choices. My dad and I will be having playful banter, and she will interrupt and start talking to my dad, as if I’m not even there, trying to push me out entirely.

**Enter The Shitty Boyfriend:** 
My sister brought home a boyfriend a little over two years ago. At first, I was fairly neutral towards him. After a few months, I grew to hate him just as much as I hate her. 

He moved himself into our family home **without asking my parents**. He literally moved his shit into my sister’s room one day, and that was it. 

He lives off my family’s money. He moved himself in, lives off the food my parents buy, uses up their water and electricity, etc. We are well off, but that’s not the point. 

My sister gave him access to our parents’ cards, and they will rack up thousands buying pointless shit like alcohol, and not have the balls to even bring it up when my dad is upset about the credit card statement. She will try to blame everyone else. It makes me sick how this piece of shit thinks he can freely spend the money my dad works hard for, and then not have the character to own up, apologise and pay back every cent.

He treats me mother with the same level of respect as my sister, which makes me sick.

He is a gold digger. It’s clear as day to everyone but my parents and sister. As I’ve mentioned, we are well off. My dad has been able to provide us with a very fortunate and privileged lifestyle. We have several properties, including a beach house (more on that later), and a lucrative cattle business at our family farm. We are able to enjoy luxuries that many people dream about. 

This asshole has latched on, and so has his family. His family will kiss my parents’ asses constantly. They want to sink their hands into their pockets too. 

In fact, a few months into dating, they started talking about the *grandkids* they would get, and how much fun everyone (including them) will have at our family’s farm. 

The first time the boyfriend met my dad, he mentioned how much *his* own dad was looking forward to fishing at our farm... *he said this within five minutes of meeting my dad, which meant my stupid sister would’ve tried to “impress” him by mentioning our parents’ assets, as if they are hers*... I MEAN, HOW AM I THE ONLY ONE SEEING THIS SHIT?

**Boiling Point:** 
I moved into our holiday home when I turned 18 because I couldn’t stand living with them anymore. 

It’s been a year and a half since I moved, I haven’t seen my dad since I left because I had school and he couldn’t get away from work, and then because of COVID-19, which devastates me. I miss him terribly. My mum has flown over multiple times to see me, but I haven’t seen her since COVID-19 restrictions came into place, and I miss her as well.

I absolutely couldn’t stand living with those two anymore. The sight of either of them makes my blood boil. I hate them more than I can put into words, in a way that is unique to BPD. I would’ve killed myself if it meant getting away from them, I was that desperate.

The constant screaming fits my sister would have on a daily basis, while her coward of a boyfriend sat back and said nothing, were driving me insane and making me intensely suicidal and desperate to escape.

**The Incident:** 
My mum struggles with the fact that I am estranged from my sister, which I understand and try to be mindful of. But earlier this year, right before COVID-19 restrictions began, my mum made one of her regular visits interstate to visit me (and other family we have here)... but this time, she brought both my sister AND her boyfriend.

She informed me that she’d booked their trip over here as if it were nothing. I immediately felt sick, and eventually threw up. She’d also paid for the boyfriend’s flight using my dad’s frequent flyer points, which made me angry.

Last time she brought my sister here, she screamed and swore at me daily, and made digs at me for being on antidepressants (something she wasn’t supposed to know, but found out due to my mum leaving the box out). 

I’m close with my neighbours, especially a single mum who looks out for me a bit, whilst I do what I can to help her and her kid out here and there. I was so embarrassed by my sister’s screaming and yelling, which the neighbours would’ve heard but never brought up out of being too polite. 

When the three of them arrived, I decided the best course of action was to make myself scarce, spend time with my mum (who was also staying a bit longer than them). 

The place has 2.5 bedrooms, with the .5 being a study that can be a spare room, when you move one of the twin beds in there.

I moved into the second bedroom for the duration of the visit, since I have my cat and I have many sleep problems that mean I can’t exactly share a room. It was expected that the boyfriend would sleep in the other room on the other twin bed, whilst my mum would get the master and share with my sister.

The boyfriend and my sister immediately set up shop in the master. I call this out immediately. My mum doesn’t want confrontation, my sister has that smug look on her face. The boyfriend is too entitled to say anything, whilst he happily moves into the *master bedroom*.

I was LIVID. I had moved out of there before they arrived so my mum could have it, out of *basic respect*. 

My mum spent the entire time in a study on a single mattress, while they lived it up in the master bedroom. I tried to talk to my mum about it, but she is so used to being treated like shit and prefers to “keep the peace”. They also continued treating my mum like their personal assistant. I could feel the rage building and building. 

The final straw came when they started targeting **my cat**. That’s when I fucking lost it. My cat is a rescue, she is sweet and shy. She is the most precious thing in this world to me.

The stupid boyfriend is allergic to cats, but that didn’t stop them from coming here. They expected me to keep my cat confined in a small room to appease them. No, fuck off with that shit. This is her home. Moving bedrooms had upset her enough. I wasn’t going to lock her away to keep them happy. They fucking knew she was here, even more reason for them to stay away.

The entire time they were here, they referred to her as an “it”, “the cat”, etc. They refused to use her name. They would do this with sly, smug looks. As if being nasty about an innocent animal means you suddenly have “balls”. I could’ve hit them both for that alone.

Back to “The Incident”: I was holding my cat in the living room. My sister started with her usual shit, as the boyfriend was standing in the kitchen like a coward. She started making digs at my cat, so I laid into her (whilst being careful not to raise my voice and scare my cat). 

I don’t know about you guys, but when I am set off, I can be a ruthless bitch. I know exactly how to rip into someone who deserves it. I only ever do this if they provoke me or insult certain members of my family, friends or pets. 

My mum hears, and calls my sister into the other room. As she leaves, the boyfriend chirps up for the first time throughout the whole ordeal. He tells me to “grow up”. I say something along the lines of “don’t you fucking start with me now”, before my mum sent my sister back out and called me over. 

It’s almost laughable. He tells me to “grow up” when he can’t even wash his own underwear. Fucking hell.

My blood was still boiling. My mum wanted to know what happened. I explained. I said I wanted them out, I fucking hated them, they’re both pieces of shit, they have no fucking respect, I won’t fucking tolerate them talking about my cat like that, etc. I didn’t care that they could hear. I would say it to their faces too.

That night, when I was lying in bed, an eerie sense of calm came over me. I thought to myself that I could very easily pick up a knife, go into the master bedroom, stab him first, then stab her, and they’d be gone. Problem solved. I’d never have to deal with them again. 

The only thing that stopped me was not wanting to hurt my parents, and not wanting to risk going to jail because of those losers. I also didn’t want to cause a huge scene and wake up the neighbours. Other than that, I had no feeling towards them. Nothing other than relief and joy that they’d finally be gone.

Has this happened to anyone else? The eerie calm beyond rage, wherein you could murder someone who has abused both you and your loved ones? Even in that state, I never could’ve laid a finger on my mum, cat or even a stranger, just *those* two.

**Where I’m At Now:** The next day, I privately informed my mother of this epiphany (is that the right word?) I’d had the night before. I did this because I was genuinely concerned that I may act on this next time. I was done with their shit, and they clearly didn’t realise just how much I wanted them gone. She made sure to keep them away from me.

I have very violent family members on my dad’s side. I felt that side coming out, and in hindsight, it’s unsettling how little stood between me and acting on that impulse. I was still in control of my actions, but I had no empathy for them in that moment. I still don’t.

I’m still finding myself close to that brink whenever they do something to set me off. Has anyone experienced something similar? How do you deal with it?

Thanks to anyone who has read this far. I also apologise for any typos, I’m on mobile.