I \[F25\] just saw a post here about toxic parents and really wanted to share my experience. I didn't want to spam the poster's original post since the person was asking for and advice on how to deal with it, and honestly, I don't know.   
My mother \[54\] is a descendant relative to a holocaust victim from the father's side and her mother died when she was 18. She is an emotional wreck and my therapist jokes cynically that she should be sitting in front of him instead of me. I don't think she ever searched for help and if she did, she didn't go through with it.   
The earliest memories I have of my mother are that she never played with me. She was always exhausted from work (HS teacher), so she just sat in the garden, on the balcony, or in the living room sipping wine (about 400 ml a day), she's one of those alcoholics that like to be just slightly, but continuously intoxicated. She breastfed me till age 3, but left me with my granddad for daycare after 1 year to return to work, because she said we needed money (we didn't, my father always made enough). She's very proud of both those things. She liked sports and wanted me to do a solo sport like her when she was a girl - at first it was figure skating, and then dancing lessons. None of it stuck with me. At the age of 9 I went for the whole summer to my grandma's and returned twice the size. My mother didn't cook much, so there was usually a lot of processed food in the house which she didn't eat herself due to her constant dieting, but it was a quick way to fix dinner for the rest of us. After I dropped the dancing lessons her only way to motivate me into doing stuff (all kinds of exercise lessons for grown-up women) was to call me fat and threatening me that nobody will like me. My mother always told me not to trust people. I suspect severe black and white thinking here, because I realized recently, that for her only two groups of people exist - genuinely good people and bad people, nothing between. And since there are only a few genuinely good people, the world suddenly becomes a really evil place for you, doesn't it? I experience exactly the same thing. Also at the age of 9 my friend recruited me into a children Christian group. As much as I despise religion now, I think that any healthy traits I have now I owe to them. I didn't have many friends, because I was really annoying, but I was with peers playing games and having at least some fun and learning stuff. My mother didn't like that. Almost every time I came back from some event (a regular meet up or a summer camp) happy and joyful, she turned my happiness against me. She accused me of being part of a cult. I always had to beg my parents, father, in particular, to let me go again. The whole business with me expressing and "showing off" happiness was tricky. She used to find clever ways to take it away. Her favorite move was to talk about all the suffering people in the world and comparing my life to theirs. Another thing she liked to educate me about in a very guilt-tripping way was the holocaust. Speaking about guilt-tripping, she's really good at that, I feel guilty right now sharing this with you in an obviously criticizing manner. She used to accuse me that I'm not going to take care of them (my parents) when they won't be able to do that themselves. I was a fucking kid and had to listen to how selfish of a person I am because I'm not going to return all their favors and wipe their asses. I was a fucking kid and had to listen to a passive-aggressive voice talking about the holocaust and socially unprivileged people and their struggles.  My mother didn't respect privacy. Her arguments were that nobody knocked on her door when she was a kid and it's disrespectful of me to ask for it (the request included the bathroom, not just my room). Also, there are many families in the world that live in one room, so I should be glad for having my own. The more I hated not having privacy, the more she invaded it, she generally liked to provoke me on the stuff we didn't agree on. I started developing problems with intimacy. I asked if she could close the bathroom door when she's using it. That was outrageous. I remember her coming naked to the living room, standing in front of the TV asking me mockingly what kind of shit I'm watching again. I have OCD with bad intrusive thoughts about intimate stuff interfering with my current sexual life in a very non-pleasing way. There are other stuff and context missing, for example family vacations which were dreadful for everyone present, but I think it's enough. I have several vague theories why my mother never really liked me, even though she refuses this accusation entirely. One of them is that when I started developing autonomy as a child, she might have realized that I wouldn't love her unconditionally just because she is my biological mother and it must have staggered her. There's a lot of effort in creating a healthy loving relationship, but respecting your family should be granted according to her.   
My father \[54\] is a nice man, but he's been henpecked by my mother and kinda lives in his own childish world. He's a civil judge, he isn't a conservative in his world views, but he wouldn't change a single thing about his shitty life. It's because he doesn't believe he has a shitty life and a manipulative wife. I'm not surprised, I'm sure that he feels loved in their relationship, even though it's objectively toxic. He was always my safety net along with his mother, but to this day he doesn't respect me as an equal with a valid opinion. He played with me when I was a child, unlike my mother, he was never mean to me, but there is a lot of odd stuff about him. My mother ensured he doesn't have friends and comes home directly from work every day. I'm surprised he can go to play volleyball with his colleagues once a week. When we talk or have a call (I talk only to him, not my mother), he asks the same questions every time to ensure I have everything I need and never listens to the answers. He doesn't like it when I make the answers elaborate and share too much if I'm in an unusually good mood. It's funny, my parents always complained that I don't want to share with them anything. It was mainly because they didn't listen anyway or turned everything against me.   
My sister \[20\] is trying to graduate HS next week for the third time. She used to be really annoying as a child. I think it was because she didn't get enough attention from her mother. Unfortunately, she didn't love books like I did. I was a really easy target for provocation. I didn't need her to occupy myself, but she needed me. I didn't like that at all and genuinely hated her. She had and still has a very different relationship with my parents. The guilt-tripping and emotional blackmail didn't work on her like it did on me. This caused that she did everything the way she wanted and got away with it, because my parents didn't really have the energy to take care of her. She used to steal money from them, hang out with strange people, while I cleaned the house every week and she didn't move a finger. I would do anything to get a "good girl" from my mother, while my sister didn't really care. The main difference, though, was that after I'd clean and get my "good girl", I'd go back to my room to read. My sister, on the other hand, wouldn't care a bit for the screaming or a lecture for various stuff she did or didn't do (like the cleaning and helping generally), she'd just buy forgiveness by fawning upon my parents and hugging it out. With her acts of expressive love she got aways away with about anything. My mother never wanted animals because of her allergies, so my sister secretely hoards animals while my parents are away on holiday and then beggs to let them stay. My parents have no chance against her, they never did, because they were too lazy to actually bring her up after they found out she isn't as submissive and easily scared as I was. They now have 3 cats and 2 big dogs, 5 ill-mannered animals in total, dirty house (funny how my mother used to drag me across the whole house to show where I missed a spot, but since her cleaning lady is gone, she doesn't care anymore) and destroyed garden. My parents take care of the animals instead of my sister, who just wants to cuddle them. She is also constantly planning on taking in more.   
This was a long (actually fucking looooooooong) post and I don't know how to end it. I just wanted to share how my family environment could have possibly affected my mental health. I'll put that in the title.