I didn’t know my family was toxic until the death of my mother, who I figure was either keeping a family with a lot of potential for division from breaking apart, or, through her death, caused the family to crack when emotions surrounding her death were at their worst. My six older siblings, who are technically a different family because they were adopted by our adoptive father (also deceased) while I was adopted by my adoptive mother (who married said adoptive father in year two of my childhood, making them my step-siblings, though they’re all also my full birth siblings, but that is an afterthought in a way), ended up forming a peer pressure pact which forced them all to not like me, manifesting as failing to frame me (possibly not planned) before ghosting me entirely, though ironically their foster kids still talk to me as they’re young and plentiful.