I relate to this to a certain degree in darker times, so I'll provide you with as much insight as my dignity allows. (I'm a writer too, and despise it when people get too vague, so.)

To provide a brief background context, my two folks are most probably mentally ill. They both had shitshow childhoods. Two shitshow childhoods do not, in fact, cancel each other out. You just get a bigger, uglier shitshow. One's abusive, physically and mentally. Possibly having BPD, and or NPD. Has psychotic episodes. The other's an egoistical delusionist who thinks every fault their significant other has is caused by the children. Everything was always my fault. They're the very reason I'm pursuing a career in clinical psychology today.

If it makes sense, I only became self aware at 14 years old. Realized no one else around me had the closest proximity of the lifestyle I was having. Realized what those shitty "I'm doing this to keep you safe" bullshit was all about- Keeping me from understanding why I was never happy, keeping friends away, keeping me from the truth and exposing them. Naturally, I belly flopped into a cycle of rage and depression. I always preferred solutions more than emotional comfort, or support, or whatever, because those never helped me. At that time, the two closest friends I had were very touchy-feely and too supporting, trying to break me out of a cycle of abuse. At the start, I would dismiss their concerns with humor, nihilistic and morbid like humor, hoping to get them to get off my ass and treat me like a friend, not something to shower pitying looks and sympathy upon. But they refused to budge anyways, which only doubled my frustrations.

Over a few weeks, my passive attempts to get them to f*ck off failed, so I begin to become incredibly snappy and cruel with my words, not attacking my friends personally, but rather using their own words to counter them. Thankfully, they understood my domestic situation and cut me a colossal amount of slack. When they argued to the point they cried, I stopped and blanked out, realizing how far I went. Then we would separate for the time being until we met again, and the same damn thing would repeat.

I shoved and even strangled them at one point because they wouldn't give me the space I needed. I never thought it was okay to cry in front of people, still don't, so I needed time alone, which they refused to give. And they kept hugging, and mind you, hugging is NOT OKAY when you take someone by surprise, especially if they were physically and or mentally abused, and immediately plow into 'fight-or-flight' mode. People need to understand the symptoms. Flinching around sudden hand movements and unexpected touches is one. Getting shoved back when hugging them is a bigger red flag, but the mofos didn't get it. Maybe they really thought they were helping. They were, in fact, being stupid.

I was just so defeated by this mindset of "things aren't going to change. I just need to wait a few more years before I get the hell out of this shitshow home." Yeah. Nowadays things have gotten way better at home, and I've learnt how to accept support better. The same two friends I mentioned? They saved my life. Who knows what could've happen if they hadn't distracted my negative thoughts from self depreciation and hatred to being angry at them instead. They sorta took the bullet for me. We're still very close to this day.

Sorry for the long read, I hope it helps tons with your story, good luck. :)