u/TumbleweedEnough7958

Long but pls read need advice, I’m hurting ! TRIGGER WARNING 😭😭😭😭😭

I really need honest advice because I honestly feel like I’m breaking as a person, and I don’t know anymore if my feelings are valid or if I’ve just been made to feel like I’m always the problem.
I’m the youngest of three sisters, and my entire life I’ve felt like the unwanted one. It was always my two sisters together while I stood on the outside trying to feel included. Some of my earliest memories are feeling left out by them. I remember things like one sister inviting the other to sleepovers while I wasn’t even asked. I remember sitting there pretending it didn’t hurt while feeling completely crushed inside. People might think those moments are “small,” but when you spend your whole childhood constantly being the extra person, the forgotten one, the one nobody chooses, it slowly destroys something inside you.
I remember even in primary school, when I was around 7 years old, I wrote something concerning at school about not wanting to be here anymore because of how lonely and left out I felt. The school contacted my parents about it. Looking back now, it breaks my heart that a child that young was already carrying those feelings so deeply. No little girl should feel that unwanted that early in life.
Even now at 26 years old, I still feel like that little girl wanting her sisters to love her the same way they love each other. Whenever they’re together, I end up crying because it reminds me that no matter how hard I try, I still feel like I don’t belong with them. They don’t really include me, acknowledge me publicly, or make me feel wanted. Their partners have treated me badly too, excluded me, disrespected me, and instead of my sisters protecting me or standing up for me, they brush it off like my feelings don’t matter.
Then they wonder why I isolate myself, stay in my room, disappear from people, or react emotionally. But nobody understands how exhausting it is spending your entire life feeling unwanted by the people you needed most. I didn’t become withdrawn for no reason. I learned to hide myself because it hurt less than constantly feeling rejected.
What hurts the most is that despite everything I’ve been through, I still love deeply. I still care about people. I still try to help others even while I’m falling apart myself. I don’t have a cruel heart. I never wanted my sisters to hurt the way they’ve hurt me.
And the thing is, I didn’t come from a bad family. My parents are good people. They worked hard, kept us safe, stayed clean, and always tried to look after me and my sisters. My parents have sat in a room with me, seen all the pain and trauma I’ve carried, and still looked at me and said I’m a good person with a good heart. They’ve seen the things I went through as a young girl that nobody should ever have to go through, and they can still see the good in me underneath all the pain.
When I was around 20/21, I was sexually assaulted after being spiked. I remember trying to physically stop the man while another person there did absolutely nothing to help me. That moment destroyed me mentally and emotionally. It changed how I saw myself, how safe I felt in the world, everything. I carried that pain alone for 4–5 years because I was ashamed, traumatised, confused, and didn’t know how to even speak about what happened to me. I buried it so deep inside myself that it started destroying me slowly from the inside out.

Then around 5 months later, the man who assaulted me was shot and killed. People probably think that would somehow bring closure, but it didn’t. It made everything worse in a different way because now I’ll never get answers, never hear accountability, never hear “I’m sorry.” I just have to live with what happened forever while he’s gone and everyone else moved on with their lives.
When I finally broke down years later and told my family, I honestly felt invisible. Especially with my sisters. I never got the comfort I desperately needed. Never “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Never “you didn’t deserve that.” Never a hug, never emotional support, nothing that made me feel safe or understood. It was almost like my trauma was too uncomfortable for everyone, so it became easier to act like it never happened while I silently drowned trying to survive it alone.
Then later, I met someone and fell really hard for him. We got into a relationship, and he was using drugs. Around that time, I already felt abandoned and emotionally disowned by so many people around me, and I was mentally in one of the darkest places of my life. Being around that environment while already broken emotionally is how I ended up getting involved in drugs too. I wasn’t trying to ruin my life — I was trying to escape pain that felt unbearable and feel wanted by someone when I felt like I had nobody.
After we broke up, I found out I was pregnant. Not long after, I had a chemical pregnancy/miscarriage while also trying to survive heartbreak at the same time. That loss shattered me more than people realise. Even though it was early, to me it was still real. I was grieving a future, grieving love, grieving the possibility of becoming a mother one day with someone I cared about.
I remember feeling so alone during that time, already carrying years of trauma, anxiety, depression, and heartbreak, hoping maybe for once my sisters would comfort me. Instead, one of the only things my older sister said was that I probably would’ve had postpartum depression anyway. I never even got a proper “I’m sorry for your loss.” I was sitting there emotionally destroyed, grieving, hormonal, heartbroken, and somehow I still felt like my pain didn’t matter enough to be acknowledged. That comment broke something in me because I couldn’t understand how someone could see their little sister hurting that badly and respond so coldly.
My family eventually found out how badly I was struggling, and to their credit they did support me when things became really bad. I’ve now been clean since the start of this year, moved out of home, and I’m genuinely trying hard to rebuild my life and heal.
But what hurts is that no matter how hard I fight to become better, it still feels like my sisters only see my mistakes and not the pain behind them. They hold onto resentment while I’m sitting here fighting depression every single day trying not to completely lose myself.
Sometimes I honestly feel like I’ve spent my entire life begging for love from my own sisters while watching them naturally give that love to each other. That’s the part that breaks me the most. Not just the trauma, not just the heartbreak, but the feeling that I was never fully wanted by my own sisters no matter how much I loved them.
Even my mum is heartbroken because she sees how deeply this has affected me. She sees me crying, isolating myself, shutting down, and feeling like I don’t matter. And the saddest part is that friends, strangers, and even people outside my family have shown me more kindness, emotional support, and forgiveness than my own sisters ever have.
After 26 years of feeling unwanted, left out, emotionally unsupported, and carrying trauma mostly alone, I finally reached a breaking point.
All I ever wanted was for my sisters to love me the way I loved them. A hug. Support. Someone checking if I was okay. Someone saying “you matter too.”

Instead, I’ve spent most of my life feeling like the sister nobody truly wanted.
Am I overreacting for being this hurt, or would anyone else feel broken too after carrying this pain for so long?

Long but pls read need advice, I’m hurting ! TRIGGER WARNING 😭😭😭😭😭

I really need honest advice because I honestly feel like I’m breaking as a person, and I don’t know anymore if my feelings are valid or if I’ve just been made to feel like I’m always the problem.
I’m the youngest of three sisters, and my entire life I’ve felt like the unwanted one. It was always my two sisters together while I stood on the outside trying to feel included. Some of my earliest memories are feeling left out by them. I remember things like one sister inviting the other to sleepovers while I wasn’t even asked. I remember sitting there pretending it didn’t hurt while feeling completely crushed inside. People might think those moments are “small,” but when you spend your whole childhood constantly being the extra person, the forgotten one, the one nobody chooses, it slowly destroys something inside you.
I remember even in primary school, when I was around 7 years old, I wrote something concerning at school about not wanting to be here anymore because of how lonely and left out I felt. The school contacted my parents about it. Looking back now, it breaks my heart that a child that young was already carrying those feelings so deeply. No little girl should feel that unwanted that early in life.
Even now at 26 years old, I still feel like that little girl wanting her sisters to love her the same way they love each other. Whenever they’re together, I end up crying because it reminds me that no matter how hard I try, I still feel like I don’t belong with them. They don’t really include me, acknowledge me publicly, or make me feel wanted. Their partners have treated me badly too, excluded me, disrespected me, and instead of my sisters protecting me or standing up for me, they brush it off like my feelings don’t matter.
Then they wonder why I isolate myself, stay in my room, disappear from people, or react emotionally. But nobody understands how exhausting it is spending your entire life feeling unwanted by the people you needed most. I didn’t become withdrawn for no reason. I learned to hide myself because it hurt less than constantly feeling rejected.
What hurts the most is that despite everything I’ve been through, I still love deeply. I still care about people. I still try to help others even while I’m falling apart myself. I don’t have a cruel heart. I never wanted my sisters to hurt the way they’ve hurt me.
And the thing is, I didn’t come from a bad family. My parents are good people. They worked hard, kept us safe, stayed clean, and always tried to look after me and my sisters. My parents have sat in a room with me, seen all the pain and trauma I’ve carried, and still looked at me and said I’m a good person with a good heart. They’ve seen the things I went through as a young girl that nobody should ever have to go through, and they can still see the good in me underneath all the pain.
When I was around 20/21, I was sexually assaulted after being spiked. I remember trying to physically stop the man while another person there did absolutely nothing to help me. That moment destroyed me mentally and emotionally. It changed how I saw myself, how safe I felt in the world, everything. I carried that pain alone for 4–5 years because I was ashamed, traumatised, confused, and didn’t know how to even speak about what happened to me. I buried it so deep inside myself that it started destroying me slowly from the inside out.

Then around 5 months later, the man who assaulted me was shot and killed. People probably think that would somehow bring closure, but it didn’t. It made everything worse in a different way because now I’ll never get answers, never hear accountability, never hear “I’m sorry.” I just have to live with what happened forever while he’s gone and everyone else moved on with their lives.
When I finally broke down years later and told my family, I honestly felt invisible. Especially with my sisters. I never got the comfort I desperately needed. Never “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Never “you didn’t deserve that.” Never a hug, never emotional support, nothing that made me feel safe or understood. It was almost like my trauma was too uncomfortable for everyone, so it became easier to act like it never happened while I silently drowned trying to survive it alone.
Then later, I met someone and fell really hard for him. We got into a relationship, and he was using drugs. Around that time, I already felt abandoned and emotionally disowned by so many people around me, and I was mentally in one of the darkest places of my life. Being around that environment while already broken emotionally is how I ended up getting involved in drugs too. I wasn’t trying to ruin my life — I was trying to escape pain that felt unbearable and feel wanted by someone when I felt like I had nobody.
After we broke up, I found out I was pregnant. Not long after, I had a chemical pregnancy/miscarriage while also trying to survive heartbreak at the same time. That loss shattered me more than people realise. Even though it was early, to me it was still real. I was grieving a future, grieving love, grieving the possibility of becoming a mother one day with someone I cared about.
I remember feeling so alone during that time, already carrying years of trauma, anxiety, depression, and heartbreak, hoping maybe for once my sisters would comfort me. Instead, one of the only things my older sister said was that I probably would’ve had postpartum depression anyway. I never even got a proper “I’m sorry for your loss.” I was sitting there emotionally destroyed, grieving, hormonal, heartbroken, and somehow I still felt like my pain didn’t matter enough to be acknowledged. That comment broke something in me because I couldn’t understand how someone could see their little sister hurting that badly and respond so coldly.
My family eventually found out how badly I was struggling, and to their credit they did support me when things became really bad. I’ve now been clean since the start of this year, moved out of home, and I’m genuinely trying hard to rebuild my life and heal.
But what hurts is that no matter how hard I fight to become better, it still feels like my sisters only see my mistakes and not the pain behind them. They hold onto resentment while I’m sitting here fighting depression every single day trying not to completely lose myself.
Sometimes I honestly feel like I’ve spent my entire life begging for love from my own sisters while watching them naturally give that love to each other. That’s the part that breaks me the most. Not just the trauma, not just the heartbreak, but the feeling that I was never fully wanted by my own sisters no matter how much I loved them.
Even my mum is heartbroken because she sees how deeply this has affected me. She sees me crying, isolating myself, shutting down, and feeling like I don’t matter. And the saddest part is that friends, strangers, and even people outside my family have shown me more kindness, emotional support, and forgiveness than my own sisters ever have.
After 26 years of feeling unwanted, left out, emotionally unsupported, and carrying trauma mostly alone, I finally reached a breaking point.
All I ever wanted was for my sisters to love me the way I loved them. A hug. Support. Someone checking if I was okay. Someone saying “you matter too.”

Instead, I’ve spent most of my life feeling like the sister nobody truly wanted.
Am I overreacting for being this hurt, or would anyone else feel broken too after carrying this pain for so long?

I really need honest advice because I honestly feel like I’m breaking as a person, and I don’t know anymore if my feelings are valid or if I’ve just been made to feel like I’m always the problem.
I’m the youngest of three sisters, and my entire life I’ve felt like the unwanted one. It was always my two sisters together while I stood on the outside trying to feel included. Some of my earliest memories are feeling left out by them. I remember things like one sister inviting the other to sleepovers while I wasn’t even asked. I remember sitting there pretending it didn’t hurt while feeling completely crushed inside. People might think those moments are “small,” but when you spend your whole childhood constantly being the extra person, the forgotten one, the one nobody chooses, it slowly destroys something inside you.
I remember even in primary school, when I was around 7 years old, I wrote something concerning at school about not wanting to be here anymore because of how lonely and left out I felt. The school contacted my parents about it. Looking back now, it breaks my heart that a child that young was already carrying those feelings so deeply. No little girl should feel that unwanted that early in life.
Even now at 26 years old, I still feel like that little girl wanting her sisters to love her the same way they love each other. Whenever they’re together, I end up crying because it reminds me that no matter how hard I try, I still feel like I don’t belong with them. They don’t really include me, acknowledge me publicly, or make me feel wanted. Their partners have treated me badly too, excluded me, disrespected me, and instead of my sisters protecting me or standing up for me, they brush it off like my feelings don’t matter.
Then they wonder why I isolate myself, stay in my room, disappear from people, or react emotionally. But nobody understands how exhausting it is spending your entire life feeling unwanted by the people you needed most. I didn’t become withdrawn for no reason. I learned to hide myself because it hurt less than constantly feeling rejected.
What hurts the most is that despite everything I’ve been through, I still love deeply. I still care about people. I still try to help others even while I’m falling apart myself. I don’t have a cruel heart. I never wanted my sisters to hurt the way they’ve hurt me.
And the thing is, I didn’t come from a bad family. My parents are good people. They worked hard, kept us safe, stayed clean, and always tried to look after me and my sisters. My parents have sat in a room with me, seen all the pain and trauma I’ve carried, and still looked at me and said I’m a good person with a good heart. They’ve seen the things I went through as a young girl that nobody should ever have to go through, and they can still see the good in me underneath all the pain.
When I was around 20/21, I was sexually assaulted after being spiked. I remember trying to physically stop the man while another person there did absolutely nothing to help me. That moment destroyed me mentally and emotionally. It changed how I saw myself, how safe I felt in the world, everything. I carried that pain alone for 4–5 years because I was ashamed, traumatised, confused, and didn’t know how to even speak about what happened to me. I buried it so deep inside myself that it started destroying me slowly from the inside out.

Then around 5 months later, the man who assaulted me was shot and killed. People probably think that would somehow bring closure, but it didn’t. It made everything worse in a different way because now I’ll never get answers, never hear accountability, never hear “I’m sorry.” I just have to live with what happened forever while he’s gone and everyone else moved on with their lives.
When I finally broke down years later and told my family, I honestly felt invisible. Especially with my sisters. I never got the comfort I desperately needed. Never “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Never “you didn’t deserve that.” Never a hug, never emotional support, nothing that made me feel safe or understood. It was almost like my trauma was too uncomfortable for everyone, so it became easier to act like it never happened while I silently drowned trying to survive it alone.
Then later, I met someone and fell really hard for him. We got into a relationship, and he was using drugs. Around that time, I already felt abandoned and emotionally disowned by so many people around me, and I was mentally in one of the darkest places of my life. Being around that environment while already broken emotionally is how I ended up getting involved in drugs too. I wasn’t trying to ruin my life — I was trying to escape pain that felt unbearable and feel wanted by someone when I felt like I had nobody.
After we broke up, I found out I was pregnant. Not long after, I had a chemical pregnancy/miscarriage while also trying to survive heartbreak at the same time. That loss shattered me more than people realise. Even though it was early, to me it was still real. I was grieving a future, grieving love, grieving the possibility of becoming a mother one day with someone I cared about.
I remember feeling so alone during that time, already carrying years of trauma, anxiety, depression, and heartbreak, hoping maybe for once my sisters would comfort me. Instead, one of the only things my older sister said was that I probably would’ve had postpartum depression anyway. I never even got a proper “I’m sorry for your loss.” I was sitting there emotionally destroyed, grieving, hormonal, heartbroken, and somehow I still felt like my pain didn’t matter enough to be acknowledged. That comment broke something in me because I couldn’t understand how someone could see their little sister hurting that badly and respond so coldly.
My family eventually found out how badly I was struggling, and to their credit they did support me when things became really bad. I’ve now been clean since the start of this year, moved out of home, and I’m genuinely trying hard to rebuild my life and heal.
But what hurts is that no matter how hard I fight to become better, it still feels like my sisters only see my mistakes and not the pain behind them. They hold onto resentment while I’m sitting here fighting depression every single day trying not to completely lose myself.
Sometimes I honestly feel like I’ve spent my entire life begging for love from my own sisters while watching them naturally give that love to each other. That’s the part that breaks me the most. Not just the trauma, not just the heartbreak, but the feeling that I was never fully wanted by my own sisters no matter how much I loved them.
Even my mum is heartbroken because she sees how deeply this has affected me. She sees me crying, isolating myself, shutting down, and feeling like I don’t matter. And the saddest part is that friends, strangers, and even people outside my family have shown me more kindness, emotional support, and forgiveness than my own sisters ever have.
After 26 years of feeling unwanted, left out, emotionally unsupported, and carrying trauma mostly alone, I finally reached a breaking point.
All I ever wanted was for my sisters to love me the way I loved them. A hug. Support. Someone checking if I was okay. Someone saying “you matter too.”

Instead, I’ve spent most of my life feeling like the sister nobody truly wanted.
Am I overreacting for being this hurt, or would anyone else feel broken too after carrying this pain for so long?