I watch a lot of TV for work, so when it’s time for me to unwind in the evening, I do my best to pop something on Netflix that’s both entertaining and helps me relax my brain. Well, I happened upon a true-crime franchise recently that, surprisingly, fits the bill. Considering the subject matter — especially in its newest entry, which gets extra gruesome in the back half — it’s baffling that these have become my bedtime shows.

Worst Neighbor Ever is the latest installment of Blumhouse’s Worst Ever anthology. Worst Ex Ever and Worst Roommate Ever are the previous titles in the series, and like the new show, they explore true tales of horror involving victims who become entangled with people they never should have trusted.

Worst Neighbor Ever contains four episodes, each exploring a story of unthinkable violence perpetrated by one community member against another. I’m not going to dissect each episode in detail — that would take away from the viewing experience. But like the previous two entries in the franchise, the series somehow one-ups itself with each episode, revealing just how depraved people can become, especially when broken justice and mental health systems intersect.

Now look, I acknowledge that watching true-crime murder shows before bed isn’t the smartest thing to do, and it won’t be a choice that appeals to everyone. But there’s something about the sheer insidiousness of these stories that calms me down, as if they’re saying, “Your life may be a mess, but at least it’s not as bad as these cases.”

Nearly every episode I’ve seen in this anthology follows a case that feels unbelievable, whether because of how brutal people can become or how badly law enforcement can bungle an investigation. That alone is a good reason to watch the show. Seeing the consequences of a broken system can help move the needle toward fixing it — or at least that’s the hopeful thought I like to hold onto.

Worst Ex Ever and Worst Roommate Ever feature stories that take place all over the country. There was some comfort in watching the show knowing none of these dastardly murder cases happened close to home.

Worst Neighbor Ever, however, disrupted my comfort with its final episode, The Executor. It revisits the crimes of Caroline Herrling, a con artist in Los Angeles who, in an effort to dispose of evidence tied to a dead body, turned to the first season of Breaking Bad for inspiration. I’ll spare you most of the details, but let’s just say there was a barrel full of acid, a hacksaw and a whole lot of noise coming from her apartment when the crime took place.

Yes, you read that right; apartment. What’s more, half of this story takes place just a few miles from where I’m typing this.

It was an unsettling episode, to be sure, and it made me second-guess this unhealthy viewing habit of mine. It’s also a stark reminder that America’s mental health crisis knows no boundaries.

Blumhouse has created a solid formula with this true-crime franchise. Yes, what I typed above sounds horrid. But the narrative tools the show uses, which include animated sequences, first-person accounts, police body cam video and news footage, mold it all into something that’s solidly entertaining, heartbreaking and informative.

There’s a conversation to be had about the potentially exploitative nature of Worst Neighbor Ever. The cases it covers often involve horrific violence and murder, and the impact on victims’ families and loved ones is ongoing. I ultimately come down on the other side, though. Every survivor and witness who appears in the series shares their story with the aim of honoring those who were lost, and I believe those firsthand accounts can also help viewers recognize potential red flags in their own lives.

Something I never expected from these shows, whether they’re documenting toxic relationships gone awry, roommate disagreements turned deadly or neighbor altercations that become explosive (literally), is the resilience that shines through, each and every time.

That glimmer of hope, which mostly comes in the form of courtroom footage and confirmation of the justice that was served, comes at the end of each episode. The sentencing isn’t always fitting, and there are moments where the show leaves me unnerved and angry with the law and sad for those still reconciling trauma. But I suppose that’s all kind of the point.