My family was very dysfunctional.
My father is an alcoholic and always has been. He thinks he’s a perfect parent because he did the bare minimum for us, likes to bring up my birth story a lot and how much he cared to bring me home from the hospital so they couldn’t use me as an “experimental baby” to learn more about cytomegalovirus (CMV), which I was born with and was symptomatic for. I guess they wanted to try experimental treatments and such. I don’t know.
My mother was seemingly psychotic herself. She was very emotionally abusive to me when I was young. She took advantage of my gullible attitude and naivety to do mean things like make me cry in front of people over minor things because she thought it was funny that I would believe whatever I was told. Play hide and go seek with me but then not seek for me for hours. When I got older, she kickstarted and encouraged multiple delusions I had. We started to kind of mend the relationship a little before she died when I was 15. She also smoked while she was pregnant with me, which I’m sure contributed to my problems. Nobody mentions if she smoked while pregnant with my brother.
My brother frequently reminds me I was very violent towards him when he was tiny. He thought that that justified him beating me and torturing me emotionally and physically for years. Locked me in dark rooms with creepy porcelain dolls until I would scream loud enough and long enough that somebody else would yell at him to let me out. We came to blows often. We’re finally mending the relationship now and putting up a united front against our dad’s drinking.