I’m the oldest of three sisters who grew up in a dysfunctional family. I have BPD and panic disorder + depression + GAP, and have been on sickleave for almost a year. In a nutshell, I am not doing well.

When we were children and teenagers, I was always very protective of my sisters M and Z. My father was calling me a crazy a lot, and I would just shrug and tell them, “whatever, I don’t care”. I would gather them in a room to play Barbie or whatever when our parents were fighting, and I would often stand up or take the blame for them: this is also the reason why my dad kicked me out, when I protected my sister M from one of his tantrum. 

My sister Z also had mental health issues, and most of them started when she was heavily bullied at the age of 12-13 (death threats, everything: we went to the police but online bullying was not taken as seriously then than now). I did what I could as a sister: I confronted the kids that were making fun of her and, when I left high school, I asked a guy I had trust in to be with her at all times, like lunches and recesses. 

Even now, as I’m 33, I am the person that M (31) and Z (29) go to to confide and find counsel and affection. I never ceased to be the big sister.

Now Z is entering a centre where she will receive the help she needs. I am proud but also heartbroken. I feel like I failed her. She was my responsibility and I should have been a better big sister.  

At the same time, I am jealous that she can go to a centre and not me, because I have a young child, bills to pay, etc. I am really ill and have addiction problems. Don’t get me wrong: I am happy that she’s getting help. I love her with all my heart. She asked me for help packing up, and I’m the one taking her to the centre Tuesday, and I really care.

I hate this feeling of envy and failure that I feel over the situation.