My Sister Is Severely Autistic, I Have Been Hating Her For A Long Time. AITA?" Reddit Family Tales

My sister is severely autistic, and I hate her for turning my life into a living nightmare. I hate her. That should be wrong to say, but it doesn't feel like it.

Ever since my sister was born, it's like I vanished from my parents' radar. I was six, excited to be a big sister, but that excitement faded fast. The shift was gradual but undeniable.

Suddenly I was moving into the basement because she needed to be closer to Mom and Dad. That hurt. The basement was creepy and cold, and I missed the warmth of being near them.

Nights down there were long and lonely. I'd hear the rest of the family upstairs and feel so cut off, like I was more of an afterthought than a daughter. Losing my toys to her was another blow.

She didn't mean to break them, but it happened all the time. I remember trying to explain to my parents how it made me feel, hoping for a bit of sympathy, maybe even justice. But all I got was, "She's younger, she doesn't understand.

You're the big sister, you should be more understanding. " It felt so unfair. Those toys were my escape, and seeing them broken without anyone caring enough to address it just piled on the feeling of being invisible.

The MacBook incident was the last straw. School had given it to me because I'd been doing really well, and then one day it was just destroyed. My school was mad at me for being careless, and my parents, they just added to the blame.

No one stopped to consider it wasn't actually my fault. I was furious and hurt, but mostly I felt alone in dealing with the mess. It wasn't just about a laptop, it was about feeling like nobody had my back.

Honestly, trying to balance being a sister and having a life is rough. I love my sister, sure, but it's like my parents forget I'm still a kid too. Every time she needs something, I have to drop everything.

Doesn't matter if I'm studying, hanging out, or even trying to catch a break. It's like I'm on call 24/7 without even signing up for it. I couldn't remember the last time I hung out with friends without constantly checking my phone, worried I'd miss a call from home needing me to rush back.

My life felt like it was on a perpetual pause, always waiting for the next crisis or the next demand for help. The day I decided to go watch the new Spider-Man movie was a big deal for me. It had been ages since I'd made plans that felt purely for my own enjoyment.

My friend Jake had been talking about it for weeks, and his excitement was contagious. I needed that break, a couple of hours where I could just be a teenager, not a caretaker. So, I made a decision.

I figured, just this once, I'd turn my phone off to enjoy the movie. Not worry about anything else, just two hours, you know. Walking out of the theater, turning my phone back on, I felt like I was hit by a truck.

Missed calls and texts everywhere. I called home immediately. The joy from the movie evaporating with each ring.

When my mom picked up, her anger cut through me. "Where have you been? We needed you an hour ago.

" I could barely get a word in. I rushed home, feeling guilty but also kind of angry. When I got there, it was like walking into a storm.

My parents were furious, their disappointment a tangible force in the room. "We rely on you, and you just decide to disappear to watch a movie. " My dad's voice was sharp, his words punctuated by my sister's background noises, like going to a movie was some kind of crime.

I tried explaining I just wanted a break, that I just wanted a couple of hours to myself, but it fell on deaf ears. "It didn't matter. Your responsibilities here are more important than some movie," my mom added, her words final.

They grounded me, said I was being irresponsible all over a movie. Sitting in my room afterward, it hit me. This wasn't about the movie.

It was about feeling stuck. Yeah, I get it, my sister needs me, but sometimes I just want to do something normal without feeling guilty or getting into trouble for it. Being 18 and feeling like you're not allowed to have your own life is tough.

It was about feeling trapped in a role I never chose, about longing for a piece of normalcy in a life that felt anything but normal. I loved my sister deeply, but in that moment, I couldn't help but feel robbed of the simple teenage experiences of friendships and carefree moments. Living in my house feels like I'm trapped in a loop where everything revolves around my sister and her needs.

Don't get me wrong, I get it. She needs a lot of care, and I want to be there for her, but sometimes it feels like I'm just another item on the family's to-do list. "Help your sister, make sure she's okay.

" Can't you see we're busy with her? It's exhausting, feeling more like an extra hand. It's like I'm invisible unless they need something for her.

This feeling of being a slave in my own home, it's suffocating. I carry this weight around, a burden that's made me question my own worth around the house, that I'm more of an actual member of the family. Then there was this one week that felt like it could be different.

I had been chosen to give a speech at a school event. Something about that recognition, it lit a spark in me. I worked hard on that speech, pouring my thoughts and feelings into every word.

When my parents said they'd be there to watch me for the first time in. . .

A long time, I felt valued. Finally, something about me. I worked on my speech every night, imagining looking into the crowd and seeing my parents there, maybe even catching them smiling proudly.

The excitement was like a beacon, a rare light in the usual dimness of my daily life. Like maybe this time, things would be different. But they weren't.

They missed it because of something with my sister. Once again, they blamed it on my sister. Standing there, about to start my speech and not seeing them crushed me.

I pushed through, voice shaky and hands trembling. I cried, not just for the speech, but for all the times I felt sidelined. Yeah, I made it through and people clapped, but it felt empty.

The whole walk home, I couldn't stop the tears. It's not like I wanted to make a big deal about them missing the speech, but it just hit hard. It felt like a reminder that no matter what happens with me, it'll always be secondary.

And walking home, all I could think was how this pattern seems like it's never going to end. Talking about colleges with my dad was something I'd been looking forward to. It started off pretty normal.

I was actually excited, you know. For once, it felt like we were focusing on my future, on something that was about me. I was getting into the idea, thinking maybe college was my chance to get out and do my own thing away from all the chaos at home.

We were looking at some brochures, talking majors and campuses. It was the closest to dreaming I'd gotten in a long time. Then, my dad made that joke, something about picking a high-paying major so I'd be set to take care of my sister when they're gone.

He laughed, thinking it was just a lighthearted comment, I guess. But it hit me hard. All my bottled-up feelings just exploded.

I lost it. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I started crying, then yelling, telling him how unfair it was that my entire life was expected to revolve around being my sister's caretaker.

It was all coming out. Every bit of resentment, every moment of feeling overlooked and undervalued. Trying to make him see how much I've had to give up, how everything always circles back to what my sister needs.

But they didn't get it. My parents just stood there, staring at me like I was speaking another language. Watching me lose it, no comfort, no apologies, nothing.

Their faces were so cold, so detached. It was like they couldn't understand why I was so upset over a joke. That's when I realized they weren't going to hear me out.

I ran to my room, slammed the door, and I've been here ever since. And here's the thing. I've been in there for hours and they haven't even bothered to check on me.

Not a knock, not a word, nothing. It's like my outburst didn't matter to them. It's so lonely sitting here, knowing that even me being this upset isn't enough to get them to see how much I'm hurting.

It's like I'm trapped in this role they've set for me and my feelings about it don't matter at all. Am I wrong for wanting more than this, for wanting to be seen as more than just a future caretaker for my sister? It just feels like no matter what I do, it's like my life doesn't matter.

I am nothing to them, nothing more than just an insurance for my sister. After hours turned into a day and then another with no word from my parents, something in me clicked. I couldn't shake off the feeling that something had to change.

It wasn't just about getting away for a bit, it was about needing some space to figure out my own stuff without always being pulled back into the same old situation. I thought of the one person who'd always seemed to get it - Grandpa. Without making a big plan, I just packed some essentials into a backpack one night and left.

I texted him I was coming over, half expecting him to talk me out of it or to call my parents, but he didn't. He just texted back, "Door's open. " Staying with Grandpa has been eye-opening.

It's not like every moment has been some deep heart-to-heart, but it's just calm here. He lets me be. We've talked about college, about what I might want to do, and it's the first time in a while I've been able to think about my future without feeling guilty or stressed.

He's been supportive, encouraging me to think about what I want, not what I feel obligated to do. It's weird, but in just a week here, I felt more like myself than I have in years. We've had meals together, watched some old movies, and he shared stories about when he was my age.

It's been nice, simple, and kind of freeing. I've even started researching colleges again, this time looking at programs I'm actually interested in, not just ones that might make enough money to take care of my sister in the future. Being with Grandpa has given me a glimpse of what that might look like, and it's something I want to hold on to.

Wow, thank you for all the support and love that you guys have given me. I never expected this post to reach the popularity it did. Thank you all.

After thinking about it for these past few hours, you are right that I don't despise my sister. It's not her fault that she was born the way she is. My parents came to talk to me a while after my breakdown, but I was unable to bring myself to talk to them and only cried and asked them to leave.

They have made. . .

Arrangements with my grandfather for me to stay with him for the time being. My parents want to talk to me, but we have decided it's best I leave for now to have some space and time to collect myself. We will be sitting down and talking later this week about this issue.

Thank you all again for the love and support through this. I started by telling my grandpa the story of why I broke down the way I did. To be honest, when I finally spilled everything to Grandpa, his reaction was way more intense than I expected.

I mean, I knew he'd be surprised, but he looked downright shocked, horrified. I told him all about how things have been at home, how I've basically been my sister's full-time caregiver on top of everything else, and how it all came crashing down that day with my dad's joke about college and taking care of her forever. Grandpa was seriously upset, especially when he found out that my sister was supposed to have professional help that she wasn't getting.

He said a lot of stuff, told me some things that I don't feel comfortable repeating here, but in essence, my sister is supposed to be getting care from a professional and that my parents were ignoring that. The gist was that it wasn't right or safe for me to be in that position, especially with how things were with my sister. He couldn't believe my parents were putting all this on me and that they'd kept so much from the rest of the family.

He was also really mad about the whole movie incident, saying it was the last straw that showed how unfairly I was being treated. Grandpa's pretty chill most of the time, so seeing him this mad was kind of a big deal. He told me straight up not to talk to my parents unless he was there, which was a relief, honestly.

He said he'd talk to them first, sort everything out, and be there with me for any conversations in the future. But it wasn't just Grandpa. Over the next few days, I heard from aunts, uncles, cousins, you name it, they were all checking in, making sure I was okay, and they were all just as shocked as Grandpa was.

Turns out my parents had been telling everyone they had a professional caregiver for my sister and even taking money from the family to pay for it, except that caregiver never existed. Everyone was pretty upset about being lied to, especially about something so serious. This past week, man, it's been a rollercoaster.

Tough, yeah, but also kind of eye-opening in a good way. The whole drama with my parents and finding out all that stuff I had no idea about was a lot to handle, but then there's been this unexpected silver lining: my extended family stepping up in ways I didn't even know I needed. Grandpa's been at the center of it all, trying to make up for what he keeps calling lost time.

Time he's been really pushing me to just be a teenager again. It's weird but nice getting nudged to hang out with my friends more or just chill and do whatever I feel like, stuff I haven't really done in, well, forever. It's like he's on this mission to help me reclaim parts of my life I didn't even realize I was missing out on.

And it's not just him, my aunts and uncles have been amazing too, they've been around a lot this week, checking in, bringing over food, just talking and actually listening. It's like they're making this massive effort to show they care, to make sure I don't feel alone in this whole mess. It's pretty overwhelming but in the best way possible.

For the first time in what feels like ages, I'm not just the sister or the caretaker, I'm just me, and that feels really good. The talk with my parents on Saturday night, disaster doesn't even cover it. I went in hoping, maybe just maybe, we could start fixing things.

Instead, it fell apart even more. They actually admitted to a bunch of stuff, stuff so messed up I can't even bring myself to type it out here. But the kicker, not a single sorry came out of their mouths.

Instead, they doubled down, saying I was pretty much born to be my sister's caretaker. Yeah, my dad actually said that, like my whole purpose was just about taking care of her. I couldn't keep it together, all the stuff I'd found out, all the support I'd been getting from the rest of the family, it all just bubbled up.

I called them out on everything, the lies about the caretaker, the money they were supposedly spending on it but actually weren't, all of it. But they just dodged and made excuses. By the end of the talk, things were even worse than before.

It felt like hitting a brick wall trying to get through to them. I'd gone into that conversation with a sliver of hope that we could mend things, but I walked out feeling like that chance was completely torched. So after that disaster talk with my parents, I made up my mind.

I'm done. Had a long chat with grandpa and my uncle last night, and we all agreed it's best if I don't go back. Today's the day, I'm officially moving out to live with Grandpa.

It feels weird, you know, making this huge change, but it also feels right, like I finally have some control over my life again. I've also decided I'm leaving the state for college once I'm done with high school. Just the thought of starting fresh somewhere new is kind of thrilling.

My aunt, she's been incredible through all this, she told me she's going to start sending the money directly to me, the money she. Used to give to my dad for my sister's care. Guess it's going to be my college fund now.

My parents, they've called a couple of times since that night, but if you're thinking they called to say sorry or that they missed me, nah, they just wanted to know when I was planning to come back home. It's like they're not even trying to understand why I had to leave. I know this is going to be a huge change and honestly I'm kind of scared, but at the same time I feel this weight lifting off me.

I'm finally making decisions for myself, and there's something really freeing about that. Today's just the start of something new, I guess. Deciding not to go back to my parents was tough, not going to lie.

There's this uneasy feeling sitting in my stomach, but deep down I think it'll fade with time. The support I've been getting from the rest of my family has been unreal. It's weird, even though I've made this big decision, feeling all their love and support makes the whole situation a bit easier to handle, but yeah, the harsh truth.

I've pretty much lost my parents through all this. That realization hits hard. It's a lot to process and sometimes I catch myself wishing things could have been different, but through all the mess I've come to see something really important.

I don't hate my sister. That anger I thought I felt towards her was misplaced. She's not the one to blame for how our parents chose to handle things.

I love her more than I can say, and hating her for something she had no control over was wrong on so many levels. I hope someday I can make that right. For now though, leaving is what I need to do for myself.

It's about finding my own way, figuring out who I am outside of this whole situation. It's going to be a journey, but I'm ready for it. Edit: Thank you all so much.

I wish I could respond to every single one of you, but my lunch only lasts so long. I'll update tonight how the move out went, but until then, thank you all. I want to say that your support has been amazing and your kindness means more to me than anyone could ever imagine.

Moving out was surreal. Grandpa and my uncle were with me every step of the way, helping me pack up my life into boxes and bags. Everything that meant something to me, we took.

Make sure to grab all the important stuff like my birth certificate and Social Security card. It felt weirdly official, like I was collecting pieces of my old life to start a new one. My parents, they were pretty much silent the whole time.

Dad took off with my sister not long after I got there, leaving just my mom to watch us pack. She didn't say much, just hovered in the background. It was awkward, tense even, but then as we were about to leave, she finally broke down.

She said she loved me, that she'd miss me. After days of silence, those words hit differently. I hugged her, said goodbye.

It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Sitting in my new room at Grandpa's house, I keep replaying that moment. Did she mean what she said?

After everything, it's hard to know for sure, but I want to believe she did. Right now, all I can do is focus on what's ahead. Maybe with time, my parents and I can find a way back to each other.