"My brother always seemed different. When we were little he made up this game called 'Joey and the wimp,' but it wasn't just boys wrestling - it was all about power and control. He would have is forearm pressing down on my neck and whisper things like 'Someday I'm going to kill you and nobody will do anything about it because I'll plead insanity.'
He would also talk about how he would kill me in my sleep. I've woken up a few times and he was just standing there in the dark looking at me. Once, when he was 6, my dad caught him in the middle of the night getting a kitchen knife saying 'I have to kill (me).'
At sixteen he and his crazy buddy did a home invasion on me and my friend and I had to go to the hospital. He beat up our mother and broke her arm (I suspect he took advantage of her because she had to sit on this doughnut thing for a while). Then he was going to stab me, I got chased a half mile through the woods until he tripped and I got away.
I saw this incident firsthand; he was going to shoot my dad when he was seventeen. He said he borrowed the .38 gun from a neighbor. A couple of friends talked him out of it.
He has been on disability since he was maybe 20. I stopped interacting with him many years ago when I went to college. To this day I suspect he will come and try to make good on his desire to murder me, thinking he'll get off pleading insanity. It's been years but even just the other night I had a dream he was trying to kill me. I don't like knowing that someday I will likely have to try to kill him in self-defense."
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"I have an elder brother who is a diagnosed sociopath and he is serving a life sentence for his myriad of crimes.
I first realized he wasn't 'right in the head' when I was 10, it was shortly after our father had died. It was him, me, my sister, and our mother. He was 17 and was the oldest of us three kids. After our father died, his already abusive tendencies dramatically increased - not only in frequency but also intensity.
One day my mom, my sister, and I went to the grocery store and when we returned I couldn't find my dog. He usually greeted us at the door every time we got home, but not that day. I asked my brother if he'd seen my dog and he said no.
A couple hours later, after searching everywhere I could think, my brother comes up to me and asks if I wanted to go out riding. I said sure and we got on our bikes (motorcycles) and started heading out to familiar trails out in the hills. Growing up in Death Valley, there's not much else to do but ride dirt-bikes.
We reach a small ravine he'd never taken me to before and get off our bikes. I look down, following his stare, and there is my dog's body. He'd been shot. I looked at my brother and I immediately knew he'd killed my dog. The expression on his face, along with taking me right to the body, made it obvious.
Being a 10-year-old kid, I started to cry, and I asked him why. His response was when I first realized something was truly wrong in his head. He looked me right in the eyes, and with a nearly blank expression on his face, said, 'He protected you from me, we can't have that now can we?' He got back on his bike and rode home.
The three of us dealt with him and somehow survived for another 3 years before the authorities finally listened to what my sister and I had been trying to say he'd been doing to us - he's now securely warehoused exactly where he belongs, away from us, away from society."
"I'm the youngest of three girls and we grew up fairly poor, so both parents were out of the home a lot working to give us the basics. Because of this, my oldest sister 'looked after' us. My earliest memories involve me running through the kitchen in a diaper feeling so so scared trying to get away from her.
Anything and everything set her off. If attention was not 100% on her she would flip out, scratching, kicking, pulling hair. My parents were pretty oblivious to all this, or more my dad was also unstable (Borderline Personality Disorder and frequently went off meds) and my mom was too emotionally abused to do anything to help.
As I was 4 years younger, I was much smaller than her and easy to catch. From my toddler years to 16 I had crescent scars all over my arms and ankles because she would dig her nails into my skin drawing blood.
The very first time it clicked in my head that no one would ever help and she could manipulate her way out of everything is when she stabbed me in the shoulder with a pen when I was about 8 years old. She had yanked out a chunk of my hair so I told her to 'eff off!' The look on her face was horrifying and she looked so happy because my dad had been sleeping and woke up to me swearing which was strictly not allowed. She knew I was going to be in trouble so she grabbed the pen off the table and stabbed me then yanked it back out. I ran upstairs to get away from my dad, which was a whole different scary experience and he wouldn't believe that she had hurt me.
I came downstairs a few hours later when he 'allowed' it with blood all over my shirt. My aunt was staying with us and saw it, pointed it out to my dad and they still believed my sister hadn't done it. I gave up all hope for help after that.
That turned into 8 years of her scarring any exposed skin, pulling out my hair, cornering me and screaming about how disgusting I was, taking every moment to remind me I was fat (she has been anorexic/bulimic most of her teens and adult life), throwing things at me, telling me men will only like me because they're chubby chasers, etc.
When she went away to university, my mother thought it would be a great idea for me to visit her there - a whole weekend being alone in her dorm with her. She spent the first day reminding me how disgusting I was, then acted all nice until the evening. We watched a movie and I thought it was funny so I laughed - wrong move. She started screaming, threw out all the food, cornered me and let me know how no one in my life actually likes me and they're all just putting up with me because they don't know any better, I'll only ever be in abusive relationships, I don't deserve anything better than that, I'll always be fat and disgusting, etc. Then she kicked me out and made our mother pick me up a day early.
Mid-year she was home and in a rare moment of civility she wanted to 'talk.' She asked me how you're supposed to feel sorry for other people. She couldn't figure it out when her professors talked about it. I carefully got out of that conversation. Later that day after she'd done her usual 'You're fat and disgusting' rant, I decided to turn my back on her and not engage. She picked up a textbook and hit me as hard she could over the head with it, yanked me by the back of my head and pushed me in the cupboards to let me know 'You're not allowed to ignore me.'
I have not spoken to her since that day, I'm now 26 and she's 30. She's still living off my mother and has zero social skills.
She's pulled a knife on our other sister, she's been evicted for trashing apartments that are in my mother's name, had so many pets die 'unexplainably,' expects to be showered with gifts and attention by everyone around her, she will get angry if family members are paying more attention to children than they are to her, she still has to refer to our mother as 'mommy,' she can't hold any platonic relationship, has never had a romantic one and she still hates me viciously for being able to have relationships.
I will not be surprised if she ends up killing someone."
"It's me, I'm the abnormal sibling.
My parents first noticed when I was a very young kid, like 3. I wouldn't let anyone but my mom touch me - not afraid, more like I hated them. I bit and hit my dad and siblings dozens of times because they came too close, I would fly into a rage if they crossed me. My rages have been a constant in my life - when I was younger I'd often pass out after calming down because of the sheer energy expended. A few times I coughed blood after screaming so loud. The police have been called because of that multiple times.
But that was just me as an overemotional child, the abnormal stuff isn't that. I used to strangle my younger sister to stop her from crying, and I'd pick her up by the neck. I used to, when she was being carried by mom or dad, draw attention back to me by digging my fingernails into her ankles or feet and laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world if she cried or screamed. I actually got a little rush from remembering - it's not funny to me like comedy shows are, more like an insane power trip. I can't remember the first time I threatened her or my older sister with a knife, it happened a lot through my life, but I do remember the last - older sister (3 yrs older) was crouched in the corner, crying and begging me not to hurt her. I was standing over her laughing and screaming about how I could kill her so easily while holding the sharpest knife I could find. I was 14 at the time (now 17). I did truly intend to kill her, or at least injure her. Again, the rush of power drove me completely manic- I've never felt like that outside of that kind of situation.
When I was 7, I stabbed my little sister (5) in the chest with a pair of safety scissors. I went for the chest because that's where the heart is and that's what you learn controls life. Again, I genuinely wanted her dead. The sternum is a very effective piece of armor.
When I was a bit younger I'd hurt our cat. I'd squeeze her until she screeched, or choke her until she spluttered, clamp her face down and squeeze her feet so she'd let out a muffled yowl. Once I went too far and dislocated her shoulder. I know, knew, what I did is wrong, but the power trip was so elating. It felt good to be in control of an innocent animal's pain or comfort.
The thing that sets me apart from your run-of-the-mill psychos, I think, is the guilt. I can't explain it without describing what I actually did when it kicked in. After I threatened my older sister, when I 'came to' and started snapping out of my rage, I was horrified. I immediately started bawling and screaming, pulling my hair and cutting myself with the knife. No punishment was enough. I would have stabbed myself, but my older sister intervened and restrained me. After I stabbed my little sister and saw blood, I immediately screamed for my parents and sobbed, trying to hug her and comfort her while trying also to claw at myself. Every time I ever hurt my cat, afterward I would cry for ages and ages, often hurting myself by slamming myself against the walls, cutting myself or burning my skin. I would always be so gentle with her after (I know that doesn't make up for hurting her), I was like 2 different people. I have to tell myself to be the good me nowadays always because now she loves me and comes to me instead of always running and I don't want to betray her because I love her very much and she is very precious to me.
My sisters and I have a much better relationship now that I'm on medication and doing therapy to help my outbursts, but they are not close to me and are much closer to each other. This hurts but I understand - when I was the antagonist in their lives they depended on each other for support. My little sister is very quiet and anxious and nonconfrontational these days and I know I contributed to this and I can't forgive myself for that. She forgives me but I can't forgive myself."
"My brother started throwing those metal toy tractors at me when he was four or five. A few years later, he'd chase me around the house with knives.
By the time he was in middle school, he was threatening me by pointing loaded guns at me (my dad had an arsenal in the basement, and he taught my brother how to use them all).
I wouldn't even start anything, he'd just get bored and decide to torture me. And I was left to babysit him because I was a few years older.
I think what really clued me in was how he'd always keep a loaded gun in the living room in case a small animal came near the house. One time, he shot a rabbit out the window and it didn't die. So he beat it with a shovel. My mom would get really defensive and yell at me if I suggested his behavior was sociopathic.
It got really bad when I moved back home for a semester during college. I'd done something to make him angry, apparently (or he was extra bored), and he decided to take some rope, tackle me to the ground, tie my hands and feet together, and throw me in a closet for hours. I'm a woman who weighs 100 pounds less than him, I tried to defend myself, but it didn't do any good. He only let me out because my dad was on his way home from work. Now he claims he doesn't remember doing it.
I tried to tell my parents, but as usual, they said we both did stuff to provoke each other and I probably did something to deserve it. I signed up for an on-campus apartment the next day and moved out of their house for good at the end of the summer.
They guilt trip me for never visiting. I hate my brother; I'm terrified of him and I resent my parents for letting that happen under their roof and never disciplining him. They're in denial and pin it on me for being 'a bad daughter.'"
"I recall whenever we were little (I was around 6 and my brother was around 9), he would get his cologne and tell me it was spray candy but I could only have some if I let him spray it, then he'd spray cologne down my throat.
I also remember several times when we would be playing by taking turns rolling each other in a big blanket. He would roll my head up in it, tie a rope around me so I couldn't move, and suffocate me with a pillow. Many times I've almost drowned in pools because he'd hold me underwater for so long. The worst part is how my parents never did anything to help, but I got in trouble for a lot of stuff he did.
To be honest, I've suppressed most of my childhood memories and only remember them when someone else speaks of it. But I remember how intense his bullying could be - how he'd do it until I cried and kept doing it. He'd always set me up to get in trouble for things. So many times he's pushed me so far that I'd finally snap and yell back, only for my parents to yell at me and spank me as a child. In all honesty, I really think he is what pushed me to develop my anorexia/bulimia.
I knew he must really have problems because of how mad he would get over the simplest things. Like if you accidentally broke a cheap (like a $5 pair of earphones) item of his, he would yell for a good hour about it and be mad at you for several days because of it.
This one time, a group of guys decided to beat him up (it was like five against one) and up to this point, this was the only fight my brother had lost. So he was already angry about that but then he saw one of the other guys had a gun on him (legally) while they fought. The dude never pulled it on him or anything, but anytime we bring this incident up, even years later, he says things like he should have taken the gun and shot him with it or pulled out his pocket knife and stabbed him.
He also says he's wanted to beat his ex many times, including when they were together, though he restrained himself.
So yeah, he's got some problems, but I don't know what they are. I hated him for these things when I was younger but now my heart just breaks for him anytime I hear him getting so angry or when I think about the things he's done. I wish I could hate him, but I just can't. All I can imagine is the life he could have had if he was never like this. Nothing's worse than having someone you love be so cruel and so lost."
"The weirdest thing about my oldest brother was that he did not seem to realize when he was giving his plans away. He'd come home from a stint of homelessness and very kindly say 'Wow, cool headphones,' and two nights later after all the promises to turn his life around, he'd be gone, and so would my headphones. His sincere compliments became a pretty clear indicator of what he would steal later, and so we'd all hide whatever he admired. It's almost like he himself had no idea that he was going to rob us until it was happening.
He physically abused the whole family, and we basically understood that he was a piece of crap. Maybe one with poor social skills, maybe one who was incredibly self-centered, maybe one with no empathy, but to get a real answer he would have had to see a professional, which he was unwilling to do.
He was arrested for threatening to stab a homeless man. There was no evidence, no case, but my dad was going to get him a lawyer anyway out of guilt for never being able to afford one for all his prior arrests. The case was dropped, thankfully, and as soon as he was released he gleefully told us all in the car that the charges had all been accurate. He was proud of himself - I think that's when it hit my dad. For me, it was when he literally hit my dad repeatedly with a phone for trying to call the police. My dad refused to retaliate, he just sat there sobbing."
"My brother, by all accounts, was born fighting. Our grandmother said that his first words were probably nasty. He was defiant and manipulative before he could actually talk. By the time he was six, women in the family - on both sides - could see that he was visibly pleased by causing other people to suffer.
I don't remember a time when he didn't hurt me. He beat me regularly, pinned me behind or under furniture the entire time both of our parents were at work. Several times, he pinned me to the wall and threw knives at me so hard that they stuck in the drywall. I don't remember at what age the violating started, but I know that by age 12 he was bringing friends over to take advantage of me. That's about the time I started expressing suicidal thoughts.
When my best friend intervened, I told my parents he was hurting me for the first time. They sent him to a live-in treatment center for troubled youth. There, he learned the art of flying under the radar. He came back a polished, evil genius. Fortunately, by that time, I had my own car and a job and orchestrated my entire life around never being alone with him again."
"I found a dead cat in his room with what looked like stab marks when he was 10. I freaked out and asked him about it and he said the cat was in pain and he ended the suffering. I explained how it's not cool to keep dead animals in the house and he promised to not do it again.
Throughout the next few years, however, I'd find random animal parts (paws, tails, and even a nose) hidden in his room. I tried talking to him but I knew it wasn't doing anything. He was much smarter than me and no one but me would see his messed up side. He had a jaded view of people but never went through anything traumatic and would snap violently in his teenage years.
I'd see blood on his clothes and by then wouldn't even ask him about it because I knew it would be another lie. He's currently in school for electrical engineering and honestly, I'm scared of what he's doing all by himself. He refuses to talk to a psychologist, claiming that was his 'weird childhood' years but I have never seen him change for the better. I have nightmares thinking I'll see him on 20/20 for murdering people or even worse, I won't and he will kill people his entire life not being caught."
"My older sister. She's two years older than me and did stuff like:
1) When I was 3, she convinced me to pile as many blankets as we could on our sleeping little brother until our mom got back. I'll never forget my mom's reaction when I excitedly told her about our hilarious prank. Luckily he was okay.
2) When I was about 7, she dared our little brother to climb high up a tall evergreen tree on our property and hang on a branch. He wasn't sure how to get down and I tried convincing him to hang on while I got our parents. My sister starting shaking the tree and yelling, 'Fall! Fall! Fall!' He fell, yelling out on his way down and landed flat on his back. My sister ran away and my brother was unconscious for several of the most terrifying seconds of my life. Luckily, he looked around and was fine. I got back and was bewildered to find out my sister hadn't told anyone since I thought she must have run to ask for help.
She was horrible to us our whole childhood (most often to me because I'm also female) and enjoyed causing me as much suffering, helplessness, and anger as she could to vent her own frustrations. Those are the some of the times I look back and go, 'Wow, she actually wanted to kill us.'
There were a ton of signs, no big realization until I became haunted by random anger attacks over childhood injustices, like her forcing me to destroy my art as a kid and my parents denying any wrongdoing on her end all the time (but never allowing me any outlet for revenge because my mom was scared of her and made me be submissive to her every demand).
The reason I would categorize her as a grade-A psycho is that she would actually pretend to be nice and use lies and manipulation and had no guilt about any of this. I was about 16 when I finally refused to take the fall for something she did. She was great at painting herself as a victim who just had to have me say I did it because I supposedly wouldn't get in as much trouble."
"I first realized when I was about 18 that my sister was the epitome of sociopathic and narcissistic. She was 14 when she got sent to a psych facility for observation.
I drove an hour each day for a week to visit her and try to be a good brother. After a week I was informed that they'd stopped investigating me.
To my horror, I found out the whole story of why she was placed there. My sister had been pulled in for cheating, and when asked why she hadn't just studied, she told them she couldn't because my dad had been beating her. So they pull in child protective services who do a full physical and discover no signs of physical abuse, but that she was 14 and not a virgin. Her explanation for that? Well, her brother has violated her, of course. Two of my brothers were out of the question because they were in foreign countries or too young, but I was left squarely in the crosshairs.
Oblivious to what I've been accused of, I go every day to visit her. Their observations of me informed that I was 'unlikely' to have done it, so they decided (correctly) that it was all fabricated.
15 years later, I still won't be left alone in a room with her under any circumstances and grit my teeth that there is nothing I can do to prevent her from harming the literal dozens of other people she's now leveled similar accusations at either for attention or to get out of difficult situations.
She's a terrible person without any remorse for the damage she does to all around her."
"I knew long before our parents noticed, unfortunately, either because parents sometimes insist on being blind to the defects of their own children in order to avoid the pain, or because they both worked long hours and so I stayed alone with my younger brother a lot to take care of him. One day I came back from my after-school job and saw him standing above a big fire he'd lit in our front yard. I asked him politely and calmly to put it out since I was horrified but also concerned about the garden in the yard and my family's rose bushes (the last remaining plant from my grandfather). He didn't say anything, but minutes later he came after me up the stairs and physically attacked me - the first major incident in a long line of physical altercations with myself and the rest of our family.
Then came the knife-throwing incident, the kicking our 60-year-old father in the stomach incident, the running away and threatening suicide, and the ultimate unveiling of his paranoid delusion (people are out to break into the house and poison him and the family dog, etc). Our parents internalized our grim family reality only much, much later. He is, in fact, the reason I first left home, since even sleeping with a lock on my door didn't help me feel safe around him. I still worry about my parents, like one day I'm going to get that awful phone call that he did something to them."
"My sister is 3 years older than me. I have always known there was something fundamentally and permanently wrong with her. She's been a cruel bully her whole life. When I was a kid, my parents used to say we would all (all 3 sisters) would get along when we were adults, but I knew she would never be normal or nice.
She hasn't been on speaking terms with our other sister for several years because she punched her in the face in the middle of a crowded museum full of families and children about an hour before my dad was scheduled to propose to my stepmom in the diamond exhibit. She was in her 20's when this happened.
It's not easy for me to remember the stuff from when we were really young because I try not to think about often. When we were all super young, she told me and my middle sister to get in a box because my parents didn't want us anymore and they were mailing us to China. She forced us to literally get in the box and she had us in the garage, ready to go before my parents noticed what was happening and thought it was hilarious. We were both terrified and crying because we were so young that we actually believed her.
One year for Christmas, she decided she didn't like any of her presents (she was probably about 14 at this time). My mom had spent weeks picking out presents for all of us that she thought we would love, like she did every year. Narcissist sister hated everything and told my parents on Christmas day that she couldn't believe they would get her such crappy gifts and she was angry for the entire day. My parents were obviously very hurt by this, but they didn't want to discipline her at all because it was Christmas and they didn't want the day to be ruined.
For as far back as I can remember, she has viewed my property and my other sister's property as hers for the taking. Any time either of us owned something remotely desirable to her, she would take it out of our room when we weren't around and we would never see it again. I remember once as a teenager I spent $20 of my own money on a pair of underwear. It still had the tags on in my underwear drawer when she took it. I asked her if she'd taken it and she just laughed.
As a teenager, she poured a teapot over my mother's head. She once slapped me across the face at the dinner table on Thanksgiving (in front of family we hadn't seen in years) because I was telling a story about a fish out of water and she doesn't like fish.
She slaps her husband in the face for things like not having a map/directions pulled up quickly enough on his phone or dropping tea on the kitchen floor. She is a parasite; she has never had a job. Her husband has been supporting her with his job since they graduated from college almost 10 years ago. She threw her husband out of the house that he pays for and made him get a studio apartment for himself next to his office so she could live alone while she got on OKCupid and dated whoever she wanted. Her husband wasn't allowed to date anyone else during this time. He just had to wait until she got it out of her system and she let him move back in. She was posting Facebook pictures of him during this time, telling everyone how much she adored her husband. Not even their closest friends had any idea this was happening. I only knew because a friend of mine found her profile online, so she told me. I took her out for drinks on her birthday and she was explaining how she was such a victim in the relationship because he is so 'worthless.' He finances her entire life, she doesn't even clean the house, and he's 'worthless' because he's tired when he comes home from work.
She cut me out of her life with no explanation shortly after I got pregnant. It's obvious to me the reason is that I was stealing her limelight. She's getting as much sympathy and attention as she can from the whole family about her alleged infertility, but I'm not convinced that's a real thing at all. I got pregnant about 3 weeks after I got engaged, so we decided to plan a really small courthouse wedding and celebration on super short notice. She sort of took over the planning as much as she could, which was terrifying because this is exactly what happened leading up to the incident where she punched my other sister in the face at the museum."
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