Growing up a "glass child" and then coming to terms with my own autistic traits that went ignored my whole life is... something to say the least.

Context: My younger sister has had pretty severe anxiety all her life, which in reality was probably both that and pretty obviously autism that went un-diagnosed because of her good grades and gender. I have spent the majority of my life in the shadows. My mental health came second, my needs came second, and I thought I was fine with it. I took pride in being the "easy child" (my parents said that to my face as a child), the one that didn't cause problems or stress my family out. I listened to directions, I was rarely rebellious, and I did everything to keep quiet. Which worked, until we both went to the same high school, and after a decade of dealing with everything, I ran out of patience. I was mean and angry, we both were, but I didn't care. I was apathetic. I wanted out, a nd college was nearing, so I didn't care.

Fast forward, it's almost 2025, and my sister still has meltdowns. This time it was on Christmas day. She still screams at me and my parents about things out of any of our control. She still feels entitled to her way at all times, and my parents are out of energy trying to argue otherwise. When she is home, the house revolves around her, whether I like it or not. Our shared room becomes hers, and I am pushed to the couch. I must take on the role of Responsible Older Sister, Role Model, and Perfect Child. I am not allowed to stoop to her level. My parents listen to me in private, but are silent to defend me when placating my sister's anger. She comes first, she is the bomb we all work to indefinitely defuse.

As I learn more about myself, all the traits I have that point to autism, and the deeply internalized and buried feelings I have carried all my life, I have never been this close to both understanding her, and cutting her off completely.

There is half of me that sees the research I've done, the traits we share, and the pain she feels; I empathize so much with my sister. My parents have never been able to fully accommodate her, life is stressful, her support systems are fragile due to her atypical social skills, and it is Hard. I am not discrediting that.

But we come home for the holidays and I am a child again, feeling emotionally neglected and alone despite the people that say they love me unconditionally. I cannot help but feel angry and betrayed; I have their love, but not their support. The other half of me hates her and what she's done, how, like clockwork, within days of being together again she explodes; every time, without fail. I dig deep and rationalize why she does what she does, but I do not understand, I feel like I will never understand. We are so similar, but I have run out of energy to empathize. I cannot bring myself to care for her perspective anymore, not when I could not imagine being her and causing the damage she has done.

I wrote this a while ago, and have been wanting a place to post it for a while. I plan to continue writing personal essays like this as a form of venting/exploring my own thoughts and feelings, in a way that's less public than twitter and less emotionally burdonsome as dming/texting people one on one. I also want to get more into the creative writing aspect of personal essays, so expect more from there as well. :heart: