My sister, who is 22, I am 23, has BPD and has being diagnosed for a few years. She’s always had emotional and behavioral problems where she would refuse to go to school, cut class, do drugs in the bathroom. When we were kids she locked me in a closet until I peed my self.  My parents are tired, they’re also at the end of their rope. My sister, “Lucy”, doesn’t care about what she does to anyone. She hits and verbally abuses our younger brother and does absolutely nothing. I could probably write a novel about everything that’s happened in the last ten years and how she’s effectively destroyed my relationship with her, our parents relationship with each other and how her presence makes everyone on edge. 

When she was 15, her boyfriend, the only good guy she’s ever gotten into a relationship with, was about to leave her. She stole a pregnancy test and tried to fake it with a red marker and whipped it out in the hallway at school to show her boyfriend. Needless to say both sides of parents got involved and she went for a blood test, shocker, she wasn’t pregnant. Her boyfriend was sent to live with his grandfather in Puerto Rico after that. 

She’s called CPS when she doesn’t get her way, I think now it’s twice. I was 18 the last time she called to lie about how our father, a man who is very ill and he has degenerative joint disease, COPD, and a myriad of other health issues, picked her up and flung her across the living room. This hurt both my parents greatly and pissed me off because the fact that I was 18 and living in a house where there was “suspected abuse” I received a letter stating how I was going to be on a list for the next 8 years. 

Since then, “Lucy” has gotten worse. She dropped out of high school because my parents couldn’t fight with her anymore to force her to go to school. She’s been with a different guy every other week, much to my embarrassment a few of them have been friends of mine. She got hooked on drugs and is alcoholic. She’s been in and out of group homes because of herself, she purposefully cuts and smokes when she gets to these very expensive places because she wants to do what she wants. 

The first attempt on her life was two years ago. We share a room. I remember waking up to her pulling on the drapes with her body against the wall on her bed, thinking that she’s nothing but annoying and obnoxious with this new sleep medication, I got up and went to sleep in the living room before I had to get up for work. I get up and tell my parents what happened and go into my room. It smelled like shit and she was on the floor. She pissed herself and vomited and I tried to wake her up and I knew something was wrong. The ambulance came to revive her and she was gone for three months in a rehab and mental health facility in Florida. In those three months our grandmother died, her friend died and our brother had to have emergency surgery because his intestines were literally knotted. 

When she came home, I couldn’t even look at her. It was fine for a while, until she found my deceased grandmothers medication. Round 2. This time it was an accident. She overdosed by accident but it still was a lot. I found her again on the bedroom floor at 12:30 in the morning. Woke my parents and wash, rinse, and repeat. 

The third time, I came back from a work trip. It was just her and I at home because our parents work and our brother was at school. Admittedly I wanted us to work it out. It upset me that my sister whom I’ve known my entire life and I don’t have a good relationship so when she asked if we could talk, I let it happen. I told her that I thought she was doing really well and that I was proud that she wasn’t on drugs anymore and that she was doing what was right for herself. It was a real Walton’s moment. I left for fifteen minutes after that to get food and I walk back in and she’s overdosed again, nodding out in the living room. I immediately lost my collective shit because are you kidding me? Again? This time I’m alone and I’m fucking freaking because I knew that she did it this time for attention. I call my dad who’s two hours away at work and I had to call the police. It was so fucking traumatic to deal with it the first and second time and this third time put me over the edge. 

Fast forward to eight months ago, after hospital stays and mental health facilities and programs that she legit ran away from, she was back on heroin and dating a piece of shit from the city.  She starts talking about moving in with him. My father told her that if she wants to move in with him that she can’t control her but know that there was no coming back. She of course chose dick and drugs. 

A week later, the kids parents kick them out and she’s begging my parents to let her come home. They tell her no that she needs to go back to the facility she left in the first place. So she goes, lasts a week, runs away and has her friend drive three hours to pick her up. She lived with her friend for about four months until the girls mom found heroin. At this point, all of her shit was out and she had it all. She begged my parents to let her come back. They let her.

Fast forward to now. She’s been on the couch for months, because this was supposed to be temporary, and does nothing. She has a new boyfriend and she still steals from my parents. She lies and yells and calls my parents names when they ask her to do something. The little bitch gets social security, without working a fucking day in her life, which she spends in two days and she gets EBT, which she uses and consumes all within a week. For the rest of the month, she harasses my parents for money, for cigarettes, she eats all of our food and contributes nothing. 

We’re not a rich household. My parents both work to the bone and so do I. We pay bills together and do our absolute best but it’s hard. It’s even harder when there’s a deadbeat on the couch, sleeping all day and consuming everything. Like today, she made herself 4 eggs, the eggs we bought for the house, all the while she has breakfast burritos and yogurts and cakes and cookies and all sorts of food that no one is allowed to touch. She left all of her dishes in the sink and I lost my fucking mind bc there she was AGAIN at 1 pm doing nothing but sleeping. 

We’re trying to do a deep clean on our house, getting rid of shit and getting ready for a tag sale and she has done nothing. The girl doesn’t have a job so there’s no excuse as to why she’s home all day and can’t clean something.

I’m fucking tired of watching her beat down my parents. I’m tired of her treating this house like it’s her own personal country club. I get she has BPD but Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t do it anymore. Her existence pisses me off and I don’t want anything to do with her. Today is our moms birthday and last night she called her a cunt. It’s things like that that make me want to beat the shit out of her. I can’t do it anymore and she holds us all hostage while she sits on her ass. No one can say anything to her and honestly sometimes I’m afraid she’s going to hurt one of us.


I guess what this essay is getting at is that I need help with dealing with my sisters illness. She can’t change and she won’t change and my parents are basically afraid of her. I can’t live in this house and let her do this. I can’t move out or else I would have. I can’t leave my brother and my parents to do this alone but I’m getting ready to take my savings and hop on an Amtrak and run. I just can’t do it. It’s not fair that she gets to act this way without consequences. 

I hope that this doesn’t offended anyone with BPD, I know you guys struggle. My sisters instance is just fucking breaking me and it’s hurting our family.