AITA when you have autism you always feel like the villain.

I’m autistic and dyslexic, living in an old farmhouse my father left me. Before he passed, my sister promised him she wouldn’t put me on the street. I get a check, so she doesn’t have to spend much, but she does help me a little.

Without her, I couldn’t get to the doctor or refill my gabapentin, since I don’t drive and a basic wheelchair isn’t practical for long distances. She’s helped me with paperwork, taken me to appointments, and occasionally brought me a beer or cigarette. I do appreciate those things.

But the way she and my other sister treat me is exhausting. One has slapped me in the face, unplugged my phone, and thrown tantrums. At one point I went to a neighbor’s house during a meltdown just to get away, even thinking jail would be better than staying. The police got involved, but I didn’t call them on her. Later she checked herself into a mental institution or rehab anyway — the tantrum she threw at me before leaving was just spite.

Both sisters gossip constantly — one talks badly about the other to me, then turns around and talks badly about me to her and even to her mother. I end up insulted daily, yelled at, and treated like I’m stupid when I’m not.

Last night they went out, bought a bunch of food, didn’t tell me, and barely brought anything back. I was literally down to my last pack of ramen noodles. They gave me some rice I didn’t trust, but I had nothing else to eat. I mixed it with a cup of Uncle Ben’s ready rice just to make a meal. It tasted fine, but I felt excluded and frustrated.

Yes, they help me in some ways, but the constant gossip, insults, aggression, and two‑faced behavior make me miserable.