I (28M) live in the top‑floor apartment of a small complex. Below me is a family: two parents and their 15 year old kid. I’ve struggled with severe alcoholism for years, but I’ve always tried to keep to myself and avoid conflict.

For the past few years, their kid has been yelling shrieking at all hours beneath me, saying things like “I am a durr, I’m a stag!” and rambling about deer, “ridges”, and “apparatuses.” It sounds like some lunatic is staging a full-blown deer ritual under my ceiling, nonstop screaming, like a wild animal’s tearing through the drywall. And it never stops. Early mornings, late nights, every waking moment.

I’ve tried wearing earplugs, blasting music, even politely knocking on their door once to ask for some quiet. Nothing worked. I got so fed up last week that, in a moment of desperation (and probably fueled by drink), I called Child Protective Services to check if he was okay. That just escalated things.

The next day, the parents cornered me on their balcony. They were furious that I’d involved authorities over “harmless kid fun.” I tried to explain how sleep‑deprived and stressed I was, but I was shaky and probably incoherent. CPS had already left by then without taking any action.

In the middle of that shouting match, blackout rage took over. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I threatened to break his bones and kill him if he didn’t shut up. I know how horrifying that sounds, and I’m ashamed of it, but in that moment I felt like my head was going to explode.

Then, oddly, one of the parents started talking about how someone else in the building had recently died, and I honestly have no clue how we veered into that topic. I left feeling more confused than anything.

The building still isn’t silent, but I’m wracked with guilt and anxiety. The parents haven’t spoken to me since, and I keep replaying that threat over and over in my head. I know I crossed a line, but I also feel like I was pushed to the brink.

So, AITA?