Things really aren't that bad for me..
I think I'm just really fucking ungrateful internally, or something.
I have a wonderful boyfriend, my family is moving into a new house next month (which my father will not have access to), my mom is honestly a good person, my siblings are okay..

I'm physically healthy enough, and no matter how hard my boyfriend tries to tell me I'm beautiful and a wonderful person, it feels like I'm unable to comprehend that. I don't believe either of those claims to be true. I'm an ugly bitch. 

I get mad too easily, specifically at my 10 year old brother. I'm nearly 17 years old, for the record. 

I've NEVER hurt him, and I never will. When he's bothering me, he'll barge through my door- no matter what I'm doing. He'll pester me about anything and everything, and then when I tell him to leave (in a nice way), he ignores me, so I get frustrated and tell him to go away, leave me alone. He ignores me still, sometimes I have to shout that I want to be alone for him to go away. Othertimes, he'll just grab one of my belongings from my room, and run off with it, then hide it and try and fucking blackmail me for it. 
The most I've ever done in retaliation was grab his arm while he was trying to run out, or maybe grab the back of his shirt to make him stop and give it back.

Yet I'm the worst fucking person in the house to him apparently, even though I'm the only person who actually cared enough to pretty much cry to my mom and tell her we need legal action as soon as possible, or my dad is going to ruin his childhood, like me and my sister's were. Years of emotional and verbal abuse just don't fucking matter I guess. 
My brother is already a semi-violent compulsive liar, at 10 years old. I showed signs of anorexia, depression, autism, CSA, PTSD, and fucking SUICIDAL THOUGHTS- AT 6 YEARS OLD.
My mom NEVER did anything for me till it was too fucking late. She told me she'd get me into therapy, that didn't happen until I cut myself for the first time.
That's when she started to give a fuck. Almost 3 years ago that was, and look at me now. I'm worse. Treatment isn't doing anything for me, I get it. I don't fucking care. It won't get better for me. I just want to save my brother's childhood before it's too late for him. Am I really that bad of a person? Am I?