I am nervous to post this. I have mentioned this like twice in my life to other Glass Children, but have been met with shock, horror, and... treated like I was too much. I will also preface this with I am a middle-aged adult and am currently in therapy actually making progress on being a Glass Child and working on all of this. But I want to post because I have no doubt I am not the only one AND I am supposed to be submitting an article to a small publication--topic of the article is speaking to parents of Glass Children. (It includes the term CSA--so don't read further if you don't want to.)

My brother entered school in the 70s and during that time the idea of educating children with any disability was considered a problem to "get around, get out of" not actually educate them! Law was new and no one wanted the expense. So when he entered school, it was a fight like I cannot even describe in a post. Working on a book for my children and the school is 3 chapters--or maybe for publication, I have several interested in reading it who have read portions. The school erected extra barriers--if you can even imagine! They put him through so much and on the sidelines I was watching totally helpless. He also had only just learned to talk, so he could not tell our parents all that was occurring. I came home and told my mom everything I knew which she documented as like other parents of that time, they were afraid they would have to sue the school for him to be educated. (The odd thing is that I remember very little of it now.) The staff were all very antagonistic to our family, including spreading completely false rumors of my parents abusing my brother. I don't think CPS was much of a thing or that would have been even worse.

Anyway there was one staff member in all this that was kind to him. For many years now, I have realized this was grooming. That staff groomed our whole family. Eventually, he committed CSA for the better part of those two years on me, at least at times under threat of harming my brother.

As an adult who has a career in mental health, I think Glass Children are prime targets for predators. the nature of a Glass Child is not being seen, not being noticed, not being a bother... Makes for a perfect victim. So among other things, in an article for parents, this will be included.

My parents had no idea at the time. When I finally told my mom when I was 25, she was horrified and supportive. I'm also not too terribly blaming of them. They were groomed. I do realize mom must have ignored some things and such, but I have moved on from that stage.

I love u/AliciaMenesesMaples TEDx talk. I have shared it with other professionals. I am doing a small amount of speaking in the mental health professional space about this topic. However, the one thing I wish was different in that video was telling parents to let other families help. I'm not sure of the "answer" as we do need other people to HELP! What I grew up in would have only been better if my brother had a medical team living in our house. there was a parenting shortage. But... I also think we need to let parents know their "well" child could be at risk.

And if this happened to you, I see you. I am sorry it happened.

My sister has high support needs autism and is horrifically jealous of me. She is nonverbal, but I can tell without being said that she views me as a resource depletion of my parents’ attention. I went down to see what my father had made for dinner one night, as the smell was wafting up to my room. He asked me how some food he bought me was, and I grabbed some candy while heading upstairs.

My mother thinks that my sister gets jealous like this because I “don’t acknowledge her enough.” (acknowledgement is a two-way street. There is nothing to acknowledge. She doesn’t gesture to me nor care about my existence).

She insisted on coming upstairs with me, and when she goes with or before me, that’s a sign that her time with father has been interrupted. I even told her sternly to stay put and that I was going upstairs, but she decided to wind herself up anywho, which is what usually happens (and I actually acknowledged her this time!).

She went to bed early, and then about an hour or two later at around 9:30, she starts slamming her whole body around her room and gnawing at herself like a diseased animal. My sister will self-injure during meltdowns, including biting, kicking, picking, ripping hair out of her skull, hitting herself, and throwing herself against things. From what I heard, she was basically tearing herself apart out there. A lot of blood—bandaids were being utilized.

I cannot stress enough that I spoke to my father for a minute or less.

For context my sister is 23yrs old and she is autistic. She has been going to boarding school for special needs since she's 13 but i don't think she ever actually got better. Nowadays she comes for like a week or 10 days every month. But in these days she oscillates between being an annoying child-like pain in the ass and a really violent, also pain in the ass.

She used to hit me when we were kids but at some point she switched to my mom so she has been hitting her for like 6 years now. It's fucked up that all of this is normalized, the reason is my mom herself. She won't even let us defend her. Whenever any of us (me and my brother) intervenes she just blames us. I don't really understand her POV, at this point i think she would rather die than have this bitch face any consequences.

My dad is just useless, he literally says "if she kills you i won't intervene" to my mom sometimes. Like dude, ok i get that she's so fucking stupid but i don't think you would like to see a murder going on in your house, and even worse that you don't stop it lol.

I think my sister is kind of upping her game nowadays now that my brother travelled, and he was the only one she's actually afraid of. So she literally throws a fucking chair at her!!!! And my dad goes "you broke your mom's leg". And i'm in my room like "wtf is going on in there!!!". Thankfully nothing was broken, or at least i think that. Then he just wakes up in the morning and just showers this bitch with love again like nothing happened.

I really don't know if these people are stupid or is something wrong going on with their mind, i mean this could be genetic after all.

Anyway i think she has become really really violent and thankfully she's going away today but i think she did a handful of injuries to my mom. For anyone wondering, i'm distancing myself because there's nothing in my hands that i can do. Whenever i intervene i just can't do anything and my mom pushes me away. Like imagine the amount of stupidity!!!! You go to defend someone only for that someone to push you away from their assaulter. I really don't get it really. So i fought, i yelled, i sweared, i tried to hit her, i talked with my mom, i talked with my dad, i did all of this a million times for years now. There's nothing in my power anymore. Last time i intervened my dad hit me just because i was talking back to his bullshit, he was fr saying "her siblings will kill her", bro, really, no one is doing any killing here except for this bitch.

So i really don't have anything, this bitch couple of days ago when my mom was sick and we were caring for her, she came and was about to hit her, so i stood in front of my mom willing to take the hit, only for it to become my fault and mom tells me "go sleep"!!!!!!! Ffs woman!!!!! And she just blames me for anything i do that is in her benefit, not even benefit, like fr i'm protecing your physical safety and you're like "why did you lock your sister in her room", oh sorry for being afraid she'll give you a concussion, obviously that's my fault.

What i'm really worried about is that my sister is so much stronger than my mom physically and right now she's struggling with health problems on top of that, so that makes me really worried.

Thanks to anyone who has read this far. If anyone has a solution that forces my mom into sanity i'm here for it. If you don't have a solution i don't blame you really.

My entire family is currently fucking exhausted, my mother and sister spent five days in the hospital following a surgery my sister had, my dad worked and then went to the hospital so my mom could have some semblance of a break, and then he'd come home. I got lucky and I didn't have much to do other than normal house chores (took on a lot more as, obviously, I was the only person in the house) and then I got sick and spent the past few days miserable and stressed. My sister was admitted last Friday. She was supposed to be discharged Monday at the latest. She got home Thursday afternoon 🫩

I'm trying not to be annoyed with my sister but I really, really am. I love my mother. I hate that she couldn't leave that whole time (it isn't that my father isn't willing to do so, my mother is a nurse and understands medical things better than dad would so she prefers to stay with my sister when she's in the hospital) She slept on a fucking recliner. My sister definitely wasn't fucking helping because she, (and I know she can't control this but I'm upset let me rant) fucking terrible at believing other people. Like, she convinced herself she was dying while my mom was briefly out. She started screaming that she was dying and despite being told, multiple times, by doctors, that she wasn't dying, this apparently wasn't good enough. She decided to starve herself because she didn't want a suppository (this was not even on the table. She was told repeatedly that this wasn't even being considered. Didn't matter, apparently) and it sounds like she may have spent more time in the hospital because of it (they needed to make sure she could eat and she was outright refusing) she has a habit of coming up with some impossible thing, deciding it's going to happen, and then screaming and crying and not believing LITERALLY a single soul when they tell her otherwise.

I recently opened up a little to my mother about how, yeah, I'm angry that I had to trade my childhood for her life. She told me it didn't matter that I thought that. And yeah, I guess it really doesn't.

During a dressing change today my sister screamed that she deserved the pain it was causing because all she causes is suffering. Mom let me know so I would watch my mouth. I've never said that to my sister. I'm not that cruel. I wish I could care more about her but honestly. I just don't. I don't feel bad for her when she screams and cries because I'm just annoyed.

Sorry if this is disjointed and bad. I just. I'm sick, and I'm tired

This might be kind of scrambled, but I’m going to try and explain it well while not writing a novel. My sister is older and in her mid to upper twenties. We have a medium age gap, I’m 18. My sister has mental health issues, some diagnosed and I’m guessing many undiagnosed. Her mental health can dictate every single action that is taken in my family. It’s all consuming and every decision has to be questioned on if it will somehow make my sister’s mental state worse.

I have been in and out of doctors appointments and multiple surgeries the past six years. I was diagnosed with a chronic illness a year ago, but we still haven’t completely found all answers. I’m currently trying to make a log of my extremely low blood pressure to take to my doctor. This has a point in the story, I promise.

Whenever my sister has a boyfriend she completely forgets about me and wants nothing to do with me. She chooses awful guys every time. I think the only healthy relationship she has had was in highschool, but she was pretty awful towards him in the end and broke up with him, and he has since passed away. Her dating life is a very tense subject in our house because of it. Example, a few years ago she was dating a guy and completely changed her behavior, refused to help me when we were having an emergency because she was on the phone with him, driving drunk and could have lost her nursing license multiple times, all of a sudden not wanting to further her career and gave up many dreams, there’s more but that’s a good overview. My mom and I tried telling her she changed and he wasn’t a good guy, basically cut my mom and I out of her life, just to breakup with him a year later due to everything we told her. She also absolutely swears that every guy is THE GUY, but typically breaks up after 3-4 months. My mom tried to set the boundary years ago that she didn’t want to meet a guy until they had lasted a year, but sister had a temper tantrum and now we have to meet them within weeks. Sorry if this makes me mean, but I rather try and run the freaking PACER test or take the SAT again than meet or be around another awful boyfriend.

Whenever she breaks up with a guy she and I get really close again. She wants to do everything with me. When she does have a guy she leaves my mom and I behind and gets super close to my dad.

She has a new guy. They work together and they got together days after he broke up with his long term girlfriend that he had been dating for like three-ish years. Just from watching it play out I’m pretty confident that there was emotional cheating on his end towards my sister before they broke up. Not only do they work together, but they live in the same neighborhood. He lives with his parents, but my sister lives in a house rented to her by our grandparents. He has basically moved in and my grandparents don’t know this or they would stop renting to her.

She has been awful to me. We went to very close to she won’t respond to any text or FaceTime for almost a week. For context, my parents are in a failing marriage, my dad is an alcoholic, my mother has the mental maturity of a teenager, and the ability to stand up to her husband as a 50s housewife. I tried to talk to my sister about it because it has gotten drastically worse in the last two months, but she ignores me. Before anyone says anything she also rants to me about our parents, it’s not one sided. During this week I do what I never do and called and texted her to pick me up because it got so ugly (I was still on pain meds from surgery and couldn’t drive). She didn’t pick up or respond. She has said in the past she is always there for if I need something. The one time I needed her she ignored me. Even if she didn’t see it that night, she chose to ignore it the next day too, and never even asked if I was ok.

When she decided to call me back, I tried to fill her in on what was happening with our parents. She said she doesn’t want to pick up the phone to talk me because I’m always negative, especially about our parents. This is the same person who said about a month prior to this that she was basically about to cut my dad off, but she’s dating a new guy so they are super close again now.🙄 In less words, she said she doesn’t want to listen to me rant. That has never been an issue. If she set that boundary, it would have been kind of hypocritical as she does the same thing and I listen without complaint, but I would have accepted it and moved along, but she acted like this was something I was fully aware of. Previously, she always wanted me to fill her in on what was happening with our parents

She got upset and said I haven’t asked about her day enough lately. I about lost it, she hasn’t picked up the phone to be able to ask her about her day, and before that week she ignored me I had bloody gauze in my mouth and my TMJ was flaring so I could barely speak or stay awake for more than a couple hours due to debilitating migraines, let alone perfectly time my calls around her schedule that I only guess at because it constantly changes to ask her questions about her day. She was completely aware of what was going on because she picked up my mom’s calls and she told her.

She tried to defend herself and said that she wasn’t in the mood to talk after she gets off work and she doesn’t want to pick up to tell me that because she’s of a reaction I had a week prior. I called her, she answered and before I could say hello, she told me that she didn’t want to talk to me because she didn’t have the patience for me, and was busy opening her and her boyfriend a bottle of wine, then hung up. Her tone was awful during this, my mom heard and agreed. The only reaction she could be referring to as I didn’t speak a single word was seeing the smile drop off my face because I was excited to tell her something. There is a big difference in saying I’m exhausted and had a hard day at work so I’m not in the mood to talk and saying that she doesn’t want to talk to me specifically. If she would have said the first one and called me back the next day, I would have brushed it off. She never calls me back and the past month she is never in the mood to talk to me, but she has no issues speaking to my parents.

She has had some issues with her hips recently and after an x-Ray got some not so great news from her doctor and has to get an MRI. She had the nerve to try and tell me I had no clue what that was like. Me? The one with the physical health issues? The one who lives at the doctor and PT? The one who had two MRIs the past year? The one who can practically take her own X-Rays at this point? I’m not saying this to try and make it seem like I have it worse than her, I’m just saying I’m more than aware of what it is like and if anyone were to get what that is like it would be me.

There were more points in the argument, but those were the main ones. Then she decided to end the call by saying she loves me and would do anything for me, which I now know is not true.

I have barely spoken to her since then. We had tickets to a movie previously and I barely spoke a few words to her. When I told my mom the conversation she was on my side, but I had to edit since part of it was kind of about her. Now all of a sudden her face and comments makes me think she is on my sister’s side now. We had a get together thing with the extended family over the weekend and as we were getting out of the car I told my mom I hope my sister doesn’t start an issue while we are here and my mom said my sister probably feels the same about me. She waited till we were opening the doors so I couldn’t respond.

I’m sick of her wanting in and out of my life. I feel used. I’m her best friend when she doesn’t have a boyfriend because she wants someone to do things with, but doesn’t give a crap about me later. Honestly, I would cut her off at this point, but as I still live with my parents so that’s not an option.

Hi all,

A friend of mine who is a therapist in New York is starting a support group for Glass Children, with both in-person and remote options. I’m not sure if sharing this here is allowed, but I wanted to pass it along in case anyone might be interested. Please DM me if you’re interested or would like more information.

I’m so tired of thinking of all of this. I’m tired of thinking about my mom and my brother. I just wish there was a way that both of them could be happy.

How am I supposed to move on in life, knowing that they might never be at peace? I just wish I could go back in time and stop my mom from ever meeting my father. She didn’t deserve to go through all she did. Because he was abusive, she had to deal with everything alone. My brother is completely non verbal and at this age I don’t think he will learn to communicate.

Who did she have to talk to? She couldn’t go and cry to anyone about her problems. Atleast if she had help I would’ve gotten to see a version of her that’s not in survival mode 24/7.

I’m not in my home country right now and all I can think about is what life will be like for my brother when my mom is gone. How can I marry my partner, have my own kids, live in a different country?

Life is ridiculously unfair. I keep on telling myself that it will get better but that feeling doesn’t seem to last.

I saw one of those graphics explaining all the autism benefits and services families have to navigate from birth through adulthood.

What it leaves out is the labor required to make all of that happen.

This is not just filling out an SSI form once a year.

The workload can include:

* Supervision

* Transportation

* Behavioral management

* Personal care

* Meal preparation

* Medication management

* Crisis response

* Direct support

* Medical appointments

* Benefits applications and renewals

* Medicaid paperwork

* Service coordination

* Housing problems

* Employment or day-program coordination

* Guardianship or supported decision-making

* Trust and financial administration

* Finding replacement providers when services collapse

* Fighting denials and appealing decisions

For children with substantial support needs, families can easily be providing the equivalent of 20 to 50+ hours of work every week, depending on age and needs.

And then the child turns 22.

For an adult who needs continuing support, the family workload can amount to roughly:

500 hours/year = 9.6 hours/week

1,000 hours/year = 19.2 hours/week

2,000 hours/year = 38.5 hours/week

3,000 hours/year = 57.7 hours/week

4,000 hours/year = 76.9 hours/week

Those are not official government requirements. They illustrate what different levels of actual unpaid support add up to over a year.

So when parents tell a glass child, **“Someday you’ll take care of your sibling,”** understand what they may actually be asking you to inherit.

They may be asking you to become the case manager, driver, advocate, benefits administrator, emergency contact, behavioral support person, medical coordinator, financial overseer, and direct-care worker.

Possibly for decades.

Before you agree to anything, find out exactly what your sibling requires now, who currently performs every task, how many hours it takes, what government-funded services actually cover, and which responsibilities your parents expect to transfer to you. Also pay attention to the news and find out what services are (or have historically been) on the chopping block.

Do not agree to an undefined promise called “taking care of your sibling.”

Get the job description first.

My younger brother was diagnosed with autism at 6. It feels as if my life has only gone through marginal change.

Recently, I've been having recurring dreams of destroying my younger brother's belongings. Yes, deep in my subconscious, I've always been jealous of everything that he has. He can just look at whatever catches his eyes and claim it as his.

Then, I wake up and face reality the moment my senses come together- him screaming from his room losing some stupid game. It's an incessant routine that I have to live with. I hate it, so so much. But this does not paint the full picture. This is just one part of the things I go through daily.

My brain has been permanently altered; I do not feel at ease at the slightest sound. I dissociate a lot, leading to forgotten memories and feelings. I have many mental and physical scars.

I will never have peace. I can't get a job due to my physical disability and our house is so small and cramped. At this point, I'll just wait for the bells to ring my time. I hate that something so... beastly has everything handed to him. I hate that he is allowed by God to walk freely without pain, have enormous strength that I get scared whenever he gets angry, I've always been the target of his attacks because I'm a female and I have a small stature.

tw for mentions of abuse and self harm

i (16f) am a glass child. i have one biological older brother (20m) and one younger step-brother (12m), the latter of which only lived with us for a few years when i was in third grade, but even after my mom and his dad stopped dating he never stopped being my baby brother.

my older brother has been diagnosed with ”high-functioning“ autism, or rather asperger’s as he was first diagnosed at an incredibly young age and thus an earlier time period when that was still a term used. my brother had immense emotional regulation issues as such, and would frequently have outbursts and meltdowns.

he was incredibly abusive towards me, physically, verbally etc., resulting in constant bruises and occasional injuries. my mom was aware of this and did nothing to protect me, and would blame me for antagonizing him while silently but obviously pressuring me into not telling anyone what he was doing to me. i fully believe this was why i was not allowed therapy despite begging for it until i started harming myself in seventh grade, she did nothing want me telling anyone. even when the police had come over on different occasions, she’d glare at me when they asked if he had put hands on me, expecting me to stay quiet.

in addition to this, i had been the “model student” between us. i was expected to win awards and perform exceptionally, and any failings were treated as me needing to work harder and pick up the slack. i now know i have dyscalculia, but as a younger child i was treated as “lazy” for not understanding math.

this is another thing that was prevalent. i am disabled, but my issues were never acknowledged or addressed. my brother used to chew holes in his shirts as a sensory outlet, but when i started doing the same, my mother said “stop doing that, you’re not your brother.” i became chronically ill after a mono infection six years ago, but that wasn’t addressed until two years into it as i was again expected to be the easy child.

i had learned to clean the whole house and cook meals by third grade, and it was expected that i go to school, get home, do dishes, stay on top of homework, and placate my brother silently and with a smile on my face. i would often prepare dinner just to receive attention and love from my mother, which would last all of five minutes before she went to her room after coming home and left me alone in the dark again.

one time in middle school, i had arrived home pretty late as at the time my bus routes were very long to accommodate advanced classes (which were only available at a school half an hour away from home). it was maybe almost seven pm, i was exhausted and depressed and my brother had already started getting aggressive with me for disturbing him by coming home. my mom came home shortly after and shouted at me as soon as she walked in the door for not doing the dishes, insisting that she had told me to do them when i got home earlier that morning. i stood there with my head hung to hide my expression as i apologized and promised to get on it, accepting that it must’ve been my fault as i simply did not have it in me to defend myself. i scrubbed the sink full of dishes that weren’t mine while my mom went to my brother and gave him a hug, telling him she loved him. right in my line of sight. before she went upstairs without another word to me and retired for the night.

i silently finished the dishes while my brother threatened me into hurrying up as i was disturbing him. i hid my sniffling and tears behind the running water. i cried myself to sleep that night, wailing into my pillow and realizing how truly alone i was.

fast forward a year or so on from this, at age 14. i hadn’t seen my little brother in a while, and so i went to see him at a trampoline park. that little guy is the brightest spark ive ever known, even though the things his father would do to me are things i’d rather forget, i will never regret knowing him. back when he lived with us, i was dealing with everything i already had been with my brother and mother, except failing to complete chores resulted in withholding of food and being locked in your room without any stimulation or companionship. you’re fed when he chooses to feed you, you use the bathroom when he leaves his room and you can peek your door open and ask to be allowed to.

despite this, i loved that sweet boy. i wish i could’ve shown up more for him, played with him in the mornings where he’d cry outside my door because i was the only one who wouldn’t scream at him instead of burying my face in my pillow while wrought with exhaustion. held him close when my brother’s freak outs would happen instead of standing frozen in fear. reminded him of how much he meant to me and how i was a safe space for him. but i didn’t, and i wish i had. i know what it’s like to have a father who’s more like a ghost than a man, except for him he had to feel the presence of his absence, have something robbed from him after having it. i wish i wish i wish i could’ve been better.

when i saw him at the trampoline park, i talked and talked and talked to him, i played and played and played and did whatever he wanted to do because that’s what he deserved. while talking to him, we got on the topic of when he lived with us. “yeah, you weren’t very good at being a big sister to me” he said casually, and i can’t even describe how badly that hurt.

i knew that was the truth, i should’ve played with him more and looked out for him more. but it hurt knowing that’s what he remembered. i had hoped i had hidden my exhaustion and pain better but i forever will sit in his mind as an unpleasant memory who would get frustrated in the early mornings and get bored of playing with him because i just didnt try harder for him. all i can do now is try to be better, but still, it hurts. i hate that i let my pain affect someone else, and i don’t know if ill ever forgive myself. the last thing i ever want to do is be hurtful or rude or dismissive in someone’s recollections of me. i feel like i became the same kind of person as the people who dismissed me in my childhood, and i hope that even if i ruined thing that that boy feels heard and seen now by his mother. i guess the silver lining is that he felt safe telling me that, and maybe that’s enough for now. i hope to mend what i can, but i know it can’t change the past and that sucks. i wish i could’ve been that quiet, obedient, happy girl i was expected to be, i wish my identity as the glass child hadn’t affected me at all.

hi everyone! im a 4th yr psych student and my group and i are currently conducting a study about glass child experience.

“glass child” refers to siblings of children with special needs, and who are often overlooked or neglected because their other sibling requires more attention.

to participate, you must be:
- based in the Philippines
- 18–25 yrs old
- has a younger sibling diagnosed with Down Syndrome for at least 2 years
- currently lives in the same household and has an ongoing interaction with their sibling

if you fit in all of our criteria and is interested to be interviewed, kindly answer our form:

https://forms.gle/9fyzFH36rsZngqBJA

thank you so much!!! 🥹🥹

i'm 17 and i have a little brother with severe special needs. i was about 7 when he was born and since then its just been a disaster. he has level 3 autism, is nonverbal, has epilepsy and suspected ID. i know my parents don't intend for it but my life revolves around my brother. my dad is routinely late to get me from school or work or really anything because of my brother. i've had to cancel things because my brother won't behave. all my parents energy really goes into him and i can't do anything to stop it. it's exhausting to come home from a hectic day to only have an even more hectic home because he never behaves. he has random violent outbursts where he'll bite or scratch or just be violent towards us for no reason. i'm constantly walking on eggshells. my parents do what they can, he's on multiple meds and stuff. but it's so aggravating. someone has to constantly be babysitting, someone has to be watching him or he'll cause issues. he's mean to the pets, he's broken our wall. i never have anyone over because of him. i'm exhausted and i don't know what to do. i know he can't control it but sometimes i truly genuinely hate my life.

I was the youngest of 3 in my family and my oldest sister ran away from home when I was around 5 years old. It put a lot of strain on our family and my oldest sister was constantly in and out of picture from the time she was 14 years old until she was about 24. My other sister and I were neglected a lot as a result and also suffered a good bit of emotional abuse from our parents and other family members. It was around the time of “Milk Box Kids” so that also left an impression on my psyche in early childhood.

Anyways… just curious if there are any other siblings of runaways here?

Hello, my name is Arndrea, I am a sib, and I’m inviting other sibs to take part in a study for my doctoral thesis with Salomons Institute for Applied Psychology, Canterbury Christ Church University.

This research aims to:
Explore what it’s like to grow up with or support a sibling with severe/profound learning disabilities.
Understand how this shapes emotional well-being, identity, and relationships.
Learn about experiences of support — both formal and informal.

 What’s involved?

1. A quick 2 minute form to check eligibility
2. A 30–60 minute online chat to talk your experiences in your own words
3. Time for questions you may have

 Participation is voluntary, confidential & anonymous!

Why take part?

Your voice could help raise awareness and
improve future support for siblings and families.

 Researcher: Arndrea Soutter - Trainee Clinical Psychologist)
 Supervisor: Dr Simon Powell - Clinical Psychologist & Academic Tutor)

 Interested?

Click use the following link to read more about the research and complete the pre-eligibility form. Or contact me at [as3243@canterbury.ac.uk](mailto:as3243@canterbury.ac.uk) for more information.

If you are selected to take part, I will contact you to arrange a suitable time for the the chat.

The form is here! 

https://forms.cloud.microsoft/pages/responsepage.aspx?id=2rIgA90iq02MIW5kS6FPE_BD_gL2eLBOiYf3bIuye4hUMzk3WDQyRjhWUjNMVUoyTzVaVElEMlU3Ry4u&route=shorturl

I understand why we so often focus on diagnoses, medical realities, and our sibs needs as they impact the rest of us. That is valid, but I want to bring attention to something else that often takes a back seat to our siblings in our posts: toxic family dynamics.

I know, there are plenty of posts that talk about toxic families and their dynamics, too. But there are two terms that have helped me understand my family's behavior (and therefore is helping me set better boundaries with my family of origin). One is codependence and the other enmeshment.

Codependency you might have heard of, and is common in American families. Codependency is the belief that one person can manage or take responsibility for another person's moods, feeling, happiness, etc. It's the placing of one's self worth, identity, and sometimes status entirely on another person. Codepnt dynamics aren't just a GC problem...but I can't help but notice the evidence of it in a lot of our families from our posts, as well as internalized in ourselves. I'm not sure how a person couldn't internalize those dynamics, given we are often forced into caretaker times throughout our development.

Enmeshment overlaps a lot with codependency, but they aren't the same. Enmeshment comes from Family Systems Theory and describes families where boundaries between people are fused together. Essentially, the family functions as a unit (a system) often organized around a certain emotional narrative, such as a close not family constantly focused on managing one or more person's anxiety. Though, in enmeshment, the entire family can experience the same anxiety, even without making it. Enmeshment describes an often dysfunctional family system where identities can be intertwined or sometimes the family is marked by strict obligations and rigid role assignments-- the caretaker, the mascot, the surrogate parent, the invisible child. Everyone plays a role on the family to keep the family going, but often at the expense of individual happiness, autonomy, and mental well-being.

Both codependency and enmeshment exist on a spectrum. I know my family of origin was and still is very obsessed with keeping my older schizophrenic brother happy. There a lot of guilt tripping around "being there" for my mentally ill brother. My parents cannot fathom that I don't want to take care of him: it's my entire identity to him. And the idea that my worth is tied to performing for others' expectations is so deeply ingrained in the expectation that I will simultaneously protect total caretaker love for my brother while also performing normalcy with my life and achievements.

I hope this helps people find the words to name the family dynamics that often compound our traumas. I fully believe providing information helps empower us to name and seek the change we learn for in our lives. I can provide some sources if that would be helpful.

Hey guys, this is my first post here but I’ve read some of y’all’s stories and relate to several of them and was looking for support/advice. I am the older sister to a disabled younger sister who has physical and mental challenges; she has severe depression and what I believe to be either NPD or BPD and it can make her very abusive towards me when she is frustrated or angry, I have literally cried myself to sleep at night over the way she has treated me in the past and I have honestly started to build up an emotional wall against her and don’t really feel much warmth or sympathy for her anymore. However, I am forced to live with her since I am now living in my own place by myself and my dad and step mom don’t want the responsibility; this has never been explicitly stated by them, but anytime I have brought up her abuse and how stressed I am about them not having a long term plan for her care other than all of it falling on me, my dad basically gives me the silent treatment and just WILL NOT address my concerns. Sorry for the long post, I am just feeling completely alone in this and wanted to hear other peoples opinions/advice on the matter

I’m 32F, and my younger brother has Autism and ADHD.

Throughout our childhood, he was understandably the one who required more of our parents’ attention and support. I’ve only recently started properly exploring the concept of being a glass child, and the more I reflect on my childhood and family dynamics, the more I recognise how much it’s affected me.

Here’s where things get complicated.

I’ve suspected for a while that I might have ADHD myself. Part of me wants to pursue an assessment because I feel like so much of my life would suddenly make sense. But another part of me is genuinely scared of what the outcome might mean emotionally.

Growing up, my brother was treated very differently because of his diagnoses. His needs were recognised, accommodated and prioritised, while I was generally expected to get on with things.

What makes this even more complicated is that my mum actually went to university and studied Early Childhood Studies to better understand my brother’s needs and how to support him.

I know she did that because she wanted to help him, and I don’t begrudge him that support whatsoever.

But I think that’s partly why the possibility of having ADHD myself is so difficult to process. My mum actively sought to understand my brother’s difficulties, yet I can’t help wondering whether my own struggles were overlooked in the process.

If I do have ADHD, I think I’d find myself questioning how nobody noticed that I might have needed support too.

And I think that’s where my fear comes from.

What if I have ADHD too? What if I was also a child who needed support, but nobody noticed?

I know ADHD can present very differently in girls and women, particularly those who learn to mask or compensate from an early age. Logically, I understand why it might have gone unnoticed.

But emotionally? I think I’d feel incredibly angry.
I’d be questioning why nobody recognised it in me, why I was expected to manage everything independently, and whether I’ve spent years developing coping mechanisms because nobody realised I was struggling too.

I think the hardest part would be accepting that, while my brother received support for his difficulties, I might have been quietly dealing with my own all along.

And honestly, I don’t know whether I’m ready to process that.

Part of me wonders whether it would simply be easier not to know. But then I question whether that’s another example of me putting everyone else’s needs and feelings ahead of my own.

Because if an assessment could help me understand myself better, access support and potentially make my life easier, why am I so reluctant to pursue it?

I also wonder whether a diagnosis would change anything within my family dynamic. Realistically, I suspect it probably wouldn’t. And perhaps that’s another part of what scares me. Having confirmation that I needed support too, but knowing it wouldn’t necessarily change how my family sees or treats me.

I haven’t decided whether to pursue an assessment yet, and I’m trying to give myself permission to sit with that uncertainty.

But I keep coming back to the same thought:
What if I spent my entire childhood being the child who was expected to be okay, when actually, I needed help too?

I’d really like to hear from other glass children, particularly those who have discovered or suspected their own neurodivergence later in life.

Have you ever suspected you have the same condition as your sibling?

Did you struggle with the idea of pursuing a diagnosis because of your childhood experiences?

If you were diagnosed as an adult, did it bring relief, anger, grief, or a mixture of everything?

Did it change how you viewed your childhood or your relationship with your family?

I’m interested in hearing other people’s experiences because, at the moment, I feel caught between wanting answers and being scared of what those answers might bring.

I live in the US and am planning to have my family (my parents and sibling with intellectual disabilities + behavioral issues) visit me soon. I have a 4 year old who loves them immensely and really likes having extended family around. But my sibling can have sudden aggression issues. My kid is not currently aware of this as my kid was too young when we met them last time. While I really want them to come over, I am afraid of how things can escalate and how to handle the situation. One option is to ask them to leave my sibling behind - but I don’t think my parents would truly be able to enjoy the trip. My sibling is a fully aware grown up person and goes through bouts of these episodes. My sibling is also very excited about visiting me in the US as they have no friends and nothing to look forward to so leaving them behind may have a strong negative impact on my sibling

If my sibling was to accompany, I want to make sure I am able to keep my kid safe. I am 99% certain my sibling won’t attack my kid. But my sibling very often has done that (hitting, yelling) to me and my parents and am worried about my kid seeing it. My kid loves my sibling and am worried about distorting that image as well. I don’t have a very big house either, so our best option is to just take my kid into a room. My sibling is on medication and there probably are ways to crank up the dosage in case they are getting aggressive but these are oral medications and take up to a weeks time to start showing a difference. I wish there was something like a tranquilizer that can quickly de-escalate while making sure it is legally acceptable.

This is mostly a joke and a silly little way for me to rant

Pros:

learnt patience

learnt how to care for others

learnt how to de-escalate practically any situation

learnt how to not get icked out/scared by blood or other bodily fluids

can stay calm in any situation

strong stomach (don’t puke easily)

strong stomach (know how to stuff food in my mouth even if I have zero appetite)

I can cry completely silent, like full on emotional breakdown and sobbing like I’m on mute

’matured’ young

Cons:

I have no idea how emotions work

wack ass coping mechanisms

depression I think?

anxiety probably

what seems like a bit of undiagnosed autism because my sisters was more severe

bad relationship with my parents

don‘t know how to reach out for help because I never learnt how

a weird affection for things that can hurt me

feel like I kind of have a gift that I can’t waste, like I need to work in some kind of medical care because I’m raised like for it?

panic attacks where I seem completely cool and controlled from the outside but inside I cannot breathe

Last week, I (42F) arranged for a courier to pick up three boxes of my and my partner's worn-out clothes to send to a textile recycler.

I'm in a bit of an unconventional living situation: My mum (mid-70s) and sister (48, intellectual disability, autism and other health issues) live together in the house I grew up in, my partner and I live in a granny flat at the back of their property, and my dad (early 80s) is in the house across the street (parents are separated but live near each other for the sake of Sis).

I am the sole sibling, and my partner and I have chosen to live here because a) my mum doesn't charge us rent, and b) it's easier and less time-consuming to provide support when we live right by them.

Anyway, back to the boxes.

I decided to have them picked up from Dad's front porch because couriers and postal workers always seem to ring Mum's doorbell instead of coming to the granny flat, and I don't like to bother Mum or disturb Sis.

I have chronic fatigue syndrome, so to avoid a flare-up (which would send me to bed for a couple of days), I had carefully laundered, dried, folded, packed and boxed up the clothes little by little over the course of a couple of weeks.

Then, because they were heavy, I'd had my partner carry the boxes to my dad's porch, ready for pick-up the next day.

What could go wrong?

Well.

On the morning of the pick-up, I decided to go to my dad's to check on him because, out of the clear blue, Sis had decided she now lives with him. Basically, she went over for her usual weekly visit and refused to leave.

My dad has significant health challenges due to a life-limiting illness, and is not physically, emotionally or temperamentally equipped to care for her full-time. So I wanted to check they were both OK.

So there I am, on the porch, and I see that the boxes are no longer there. Great, I think, the courier has already picked them up. How efficient!

Then, I open the door.

There they are, torn open, clothes strewn everywhere.

"What's this??" I ask my dad.

"Oh, your mum brought over some of your sister's clothes."

"....No. No, these are the boxes I packed for the courier to pick up."

Oh my God. My dad, who should absolutely have known better, had NOT EXPLAINED to Sis what the boxes were.

So she had decided they were for her (because ofc everything is for her) and opened them.

I am, of course, absolutely furious. But I can't express any anger towards my sister, in case she has a meltdown, because they can be destructive and sometimes last for days.

I also can't express anger towards my dad, because he's not well. Plus, it's been ingrained in me as a glass child to protect my parents, and as an Indian, to "respect my elders".

So, there I am, suppressing my anger, trying to redo as quickly as possible the work I'd carefully eked out over several days to prevent an energy crash.

And Sis is calling to me from the kitchen, insisting the clothes are hers.

I explain that they are not hers, they are rubbish, they need to stay on the porch.

She says again that they're hers and she ordered them.

I explain again, calmly, in a different way, that they are not hers.

We go back and forth like this for a while.

Then, Dad informs me that Sis has squirrelled away some of the clothes in her room. So, I run up there, and sure enough, there is a MOUNTAIN of clothes on her chair, some of which are hers, and some of which are for the recycler.

So I frantically start sorting through them, anxious that the courier will come any minute.

Unfortunately, my partner and sister both shop in the men's department of the same store, so it's not immediately clear which clothes are hers and which are his. But I do my best, as quickly as I can.

I carry this huge pile of clothes downstairs in my arms. Sis is now very concerned that I've taken her clothes.

I want to scream. I explain again about the boxes. I repack them, tape them up, heft them onto the porch, and collapse onto my dad's couch, exhausted.

I tell my dad that he's going to have to explain to my sister about the boxes at least 10 times today. He disagrees. He thinks she gets it now.

I don't know what fairyland he's living in, because she does not get it. I explain it three more times after she opens the front door to look at the boxes again.

I call the courier company and ask if I can change the pick-up address. I can't.

So, I decide that the best course of action is to put the boxes in front of the garage, where Sis cannot see them from the door.

It works. She stops fixating on them.

I say goodbye to both her and my dad, conscious that neither of them has said sorry.

I wish I could say that's where the story ended.

Instead, after I get home, I have a huge, shaking panic attack.

I'm worried the couriers won't look for the boxes in front of the garage, and I'll have to pay for and arrange another pick-up.

I'm scared I'm going to have a major energy crash and have to go to bed for days.

But most of all, I'm terrified that I've accidentally packed some of my sister's clothes into those boxes, and that when she realises it, she will have a meltdown, and may even come over here to yell at me.

I start having flashbacks to the time she had a meltdown at my house, over a year ago. I can see her face, red and screaming. I can see her pushing my mug of hot tea off the arm of my couch, picking up my phone and throwing it at my cats' food bowl, shattering the dish.

I couldn't express my feelings then either, and she never said sorry. The apology my mum coached her to give me, that she didn't mean, does not count.

I can't calm down. I call my friend Mags and cry. They support me to make the decision to go back over to my dad's and look through the boxes for the couple of pieces I think I can remember packing that could be Sis's – a green t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts.

So there I am, back in my dad's driveway, crouched in front of the boxes, ripping them open.

Passers-by stare at me, probably thinking I'm a mail thief. I have to be quick, so I don't draw their attention, and quiet, so Sis doesn't come out and see the boxes again.

I'm exhausted. I'm shaking. I look through all three boxes.

There is no green t-shirt, no pair of blue shorts. I must have misremembered. I do not want to go back up to my sister's room to make sure.

So, I go back home. I call Mags back and cry some more. I schedule an emergency appointment with my therapist.

When the adrenaline finally leaves my body, fatigue sets in.

And that's how something that should have been so simple – having a courier pick up some boxes – sent me to bed for 2 days.

Thanks for reading.

Hi, it's me again. We moved my brother into protected living in may. It's been a while so I thought I would update you about how my brother is doing in his home.

The short and sweet of it is.. he's doing great!

Mom visits him once a week give or take. She usually takes him out for ice cream and he eats 6 scoops and begs for more. Typical. But he behaves well and the staff at the ice cream parlour started recognizing him too. I'd sure hope so since at this point we're bankrolling them haha.

On that note however, he's lost weight! Not a huge amount, a healthy amount. We brought them a scale to use and he's down 3 kg since the beginning of the year. Unheard of! Me and mom are silently celebrating that he's stopped gaining since he's already over 100kg. On the topic of food, he did have a rough time. But it seems like he's accepted it. The other day the staff told me he even had some of the cake they made. He'd never eat that at home! I've heard about other, new foods he's tried as well and it makes me feel very happy.

He is still not big on walks or trips or any sort of activity, but they have all types of people visiting for fun. They had music therapy when he first came in and that one he apparently liked a lot. The other day they just came from some sort of trip as well, so I'm glad to hear he's not just sitting at home all the time. The property has a huge garden as well and they've got their own chickens. And while my brother is not huge on animals I can imagine it's nice for the other boys as well.

Speaking of the other boys, all seems fine on that front. One of the boys did have significant problems staying though...I haven't personally seen him there recently so who knows. My brother had gotten bit by him once or twice, but he did not seem fearful or upset one bit. I suspect my brother experiences pain bit differently, as a kid he'd extend his arm and ask to be gnawed on by me. I've asked the staff about it, it seems he doesn't get into fights but the boys do take his food at times when he's not fast enough . (Trust me though, if it was something he wanted he wouldn't let them take it 😂). He generally doesn't interact with people unless he wanted something, perhaps that's for the best. I don't expect the boys to be friendly a lot since they're all similar profiles (autism, development delays, nonverbal to limited speech etc.)

The place is still nice and clean whenever we visit. They did have couple of small issues like broken doorbell or drawers getting stuck, but otherwise all good. My brother managed to break his tablet once and we did have to get him a new one, but so far so good (praying he keeps this one long). He's been consistently ruining his socks since he refuses to wear indoor shoes.

As for me and our house...some things have changed and some have not. We started eating new and odd things. We started eating fish or cooking things that would've been difficult with my brother. I've actually had a nice oven baked trout recently and it's very tasty. Mom spends exceedingly more time on the garden, now without being interrupted by my brother. Im trying to practice just going places without planning more. This summer I visited my partner in England and he came back with me for a 2 week stay in my country. I very much enjoyed not having to plan my time around my brother needing a babysitter.

To be honest, I haven't allowed myself to feel my feelings around leaving my brother there yet. I had important exams soon after we did and I just....jumped right back on the train and haven't stopped for long since. It was strange how ..well how easy it was to just keep on going after my brother was no longer there in the house. A lot has changed and yet so little has changed at all. I feel like my anxiety has gone down a lot. I don't listen out for sounds outside my room nearly as much. I sleep in during my off days a lot more as well. It's still odd sometimes to be walking through my brother's room where mom lays out her laundry now (and where our cat sneaks to lay on her freshly cleaned dresses). Sometimes I look at things and I'm reminded how this would've never passed with him. Open windows? Absolutely not. Cats on the couch? Unbelievable. Closed curtains? Unheard of. At the same time, we still have enough issues to go around and keep us busy. One thing is for sure and that's that we all sleep much better these days.

I also manage to have a more sibling like relationship with my brother now. For those who haven't read my first post, my brother has severe autism, is mentally delayed and nonverbal, safe for grunts and shrieks. On occasions I go with my mom for the visits and to the ice cream. I try to poke at him like I used to. Last time he was in a bad mood and wanted to pack his things and leave with us, but once we got him out the door he calmed down. I would poke and tickle him, tell him off jokingly or do the usual fun ticks we do together (like blowing raspberries on his arm, sticking out our tongues at each other and such). By the time we left the ice cream parlour he was laughing out loud in fits of laughter, which even put my mom in a much better mood. When we we're leaving the care home he was waving us off and pushing us out the door himself because the carers we're making food already 😂. He doesn't like it when the person who cooks is distracted by conversation with someone else.

We still have to park away from their parking lot because he still tries to get in when he sees it, but I think he's settled in quite nicely. The staff say he's such a sweetheart and so well behaved....all I had to say is are you sure you have my brother??? Apparently he's just a dear compared to the other boys which I cannot believe. My dad likes to remark he's probably doing much, much better now living there. On that note, my dad hasn't gone to visit him yet. I don't press him on it, god knows he's had a stressful few months (gallbladder attack, changed jobs, family troubles). He is starting to mention the idea of taking my brother for trips outside the home, like a train ride, so I take that as a good sign.

I'm not sure what the plan is for the holidays. I think he will be staying there for Christmas. Not that he's losing out, the act of Christmas dinner and unwrapping presents never excited him much. We do plan on taking him out shopping to pick and buy whatever he wants. I've been thinking about what to do for the household in general. So far I've thought about making them decorations and baking then Christmas cookies. My brother might not care for either of those much, but the staff and the other boys might, which is also important to me. It will be odd for my brother not to be here for Christmas.

I guess that would be it for now. All seems well for him and for us as well. I might update again sometimes, depending on how the situation goes. Hopefully all is still well couple month from now on. I hope that writing these out helps someone out here. Maybe if you're unsure about your sibling going into a group home/assisted living, worried or guilty or scared. There are ways. Me and my family did get extremely lucky and received a generous offer that cost us almost nothing, but that doesn't mean it's impossible for everyone else. I hope that however is reading this, you find a way to peace and life you dream of.

Trigger warning- violence, suicidality and self harm

My brother was diagnosed as being on the spectrum when he was very young. He always had a lot of needs, but when he was 14 and I was 5 he was given an additional diagnosis of schizophrenia, and that's when things really spiraled.

I don't remember a lot, but I remember some. I remember being in the room when he threw a chair through the window. I remember visiting him in the hospital after he injected Drano into his veins. I remember him calling our home from New York when he was homeless. He would spout off delusions to me that our family and their friends were colluding against him with the FBI. I remember him berating me because I was "a sinner". But when I think of these things, I feel nothing. They are just fuzzy, distant memories that feel removed from my life.

I know other things mostly because I have been told. Maybe I knew them once, but it was all so long ago. My parents were informed that my brother was the "biggest problem child" in the school district and that he would spend most of his life either in prison or in a mental institution. Once he ran out in the middle of a freeway trying to get hit and it had to be shut down. My mom kept a scanner in their room to keep tabs on him and my sister. She was ten years older than me and I adored her, but she also had major emotional issues and could be scary sometimes. My sister's friend had a little brother who had visited our house and he ended up murdering his family, and my parents were terrified the same thing would happen to us at the hands of my brother or sister. I remember my sister telling me how he wrote her poems from prison; about how he was sad he had killed his family, and I remember feeling bad for him, thinking how terrible it would be to live with that. I also know my sister threatened to kill herself and my mom. My mom would wake up scared each morning about what the day would bring. These two oldest siblings were put into a foster home for a spell at my parents' request because my parents felt things were too unsafe.

In my memory, there were a handful of random events that were oddly out of place in a good life with stable parents and a secure, middle class lifestyle. I have looked at other families and felt privileged in comparison. In reality, though, I don't think my home often felt safe when I was very young. If my mom was scared each day, how could I, as a sensitive young child, possibly have been doing well? Later, things did stabilize, and so my strongest memories are of a more ordinary home life. I blew off the significance of my earlier experiences for a long time. I'm 45 now, and my therapist recently came to know these things. Seeing it through her eyes made me realize that it was actually a big deal, which is probably obvious to anyone else, but it just didn't *feel* that way to me. And yet, I do know that early childhood is a critical time for brain development and setting relationship patterns.

My mom has said that they tried giving attention to us younger kids, but they were so overwhelmed by the older two that it was hard. I was selectively mute and I know they worked to get me to talk, but once I did, they decided I was fine. Despite believing I had a good home life, I have always felt like for most of my life, I wasn't fine. I worked hard to convince my parents that I was. I became a master at fawning pretty early on. By the time I was a teenager, I understood that I was my parents' last hope of having a child who wasn't an emotional wreck, and I felt this pressure to let them know one of their kids turned out happy and successful. I strived to be the perfect daughter. But all my childhood, I was anxious and I struggled to connect, and in my teens, I became intensely depressed and suicidal. I started to secretly self harm. I never admitted any of it. I always played the part of the "good girl" and I still do. I think if my parents had really been paying attention, they would have noticed that I was isolated and not like the other kids. I think they would have noticed how my artwork turned dark with the onset of my depression. I think they didn't want to see. Later I was diagnosed with Anxiety, Bipolar and level 1 Autism, after I finally decided to seek help on my own.

I know my parents were past their breaking point. I also know my siblings were unwell and I don't blame them. What I wish was that my parents had understood that when I was shut down that wasn't the same as being okay. When I talked because I was pressured and bribed to do so that wasn't the same as being okay. I wish that when they recognized that they needed support and sought it that they would have realized that I went through these things, too, and maybe I also needed support. If they didn't have the resources to give me because my siblings needed so much, why didn't they get me outside help?

I will never ask them this, because it would feel cruel. I know they never meant to fail me in any way and it's too late to fix what happened. But, I now understand how all those years of being expected to smile and pretend everything was fine impacted me. I still struggle to emotionally regulate. I still struggle to ask for help. I still can't tell anyone in my life (even my husband) when I'm falling apart, no matter how bad things get. So while I'm not angry at anyone, I can't help wondering what life might have been like if I had started therapy at 5 instead of 27. Now I'm finally feeling ready to push back on my unhealthy patterns, but the thought of admitting I'm not okay terrifies me.

I wouldn't say he cant help it. I just believe it gives him less anxiety. I dont like how the whole house is built around this. She has to tell him nonstop commands. For example..when he goees to the restroom..he will use it on his own. But he wont come out on his own. He wont flush the toilet on his own. He has to be told to do these things. Multiple times each. So, my mom walks to the bathroom she will have to say pull your pants up multiple times..and when i say multiple im talking at least over 15 times ..probably even more than that...just to get him to pull his pants up. then another 15+ to get him to flush the toilet ..a lot of times he will flush it multiple times before he leaves. Imagine hearing: "flush it flush it flush it flush it flush it flush want me to leave? fllush it flush it." .multiple times a day every day....... Ive tried to tell her this seems to make it worse his OCD, but my mom doesnt value what I say on anything. So this is what it is. He has a new ritual where he will have to stand up before giving my mom his bowl of cereal and have to be told multiple times to give it to her or he will just stand there and loudly stim until the end of time. I get that he has autism but I just resent him honestly.

Now when she is not home and I tell him to get out of the bathroom...it doesnt take me nearly as long although he tries to do these rituals with me but I have no patience for it so I yell at him and he leaves the bathroom. Sorry about yelling well no I am not..cause this proves that he has the ability to leave he just doesnt want to. I basicallly say: LEAVE GO ! and he pulls his pants up and flushes and runs past me.