Considering Leaving, But Really Scared

I'm a 23 year old female who is disabled by severe anxiety disorders to the point where I haven't ever been able to get a job or a license.

I have and still am living with my parents and one out of two sisters (one is in college in Madison).

I've been verbally, emotionally, and psychologically abused since middle school. It was not anywhere near as bad as it is now. It's been getting worse as the years have gone by.

I was first physically abused the day after my birthday last year. I was slapped across the face. When in a rage during a fight, being slapped like that causes me to go into shock. I didn't know what I was doing. I don't remember what I was thinking. But when the car was in motion (we were driving back from Arby's) I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the door. My mom grabbed me by the arm and yanked me towards her so much that the door shut as I went in her direction. I regret even attempting that more than anyone can imagine.

I really don't want to die by my hand or anyone else's hand. I'm really afraid of death so I really don't want to die.

But since that day, after August of last year, she has either threatened to do something or has slapped me across the face again, shaken me by the shoulders, went so close in my face that I had to shove her a little bit since I couldn't back up to get her out of my face even though I told her repeatedly to, and grabbed me by the shoulders to prevent me from going anywhere while she yells my head off.

My dad has also scared the shit out of me. This past Thursday, I was fighting with my parents over a dumb book that I wanted (it doesn't matter what starts it, it really doesn't) and eventually it escalated to the point where my dad went so close to my nose that he was only centimeters away from it.

I felt a bunch of spit flying on my face with every syllable he yelled. I went in my room and tried to shut the door, but he pushed it open and came in and came within centimeters of my face again. I could only deal with it for so long. I eventually used my forearm in a self-defense pose and pushed it against his chest area and while he backed up into the door (the door closed and my mirror that's attached to my dresser shook) I yelled "Get the f*%$ out of my face!"

I felt like a enormous monster when I saw the door close and the mirror shake. But I was in such rage that I yelled twice, "Stay the f*%$ out of my face!" What else was I supposed to do? Which I still say that to myself even a few days later. My mom came in and told him to leave my room, but said I deserved it.

When I slammed my door shut, my mom was saying how she spent a bunch of money on my birthday presents and that she should just take them back. She didn't take them back and it's not like material things truly matter to me.

But the thought of it being my birthday presents and her saying that really hurt along with the other things that happened. My sisters have done some things to me as well.

My parents say how much of a financial burden I am and that what they do isn't abuse and that I don't know what abuse is. My mom was abused when she lived with her parents (her dad did it). So I understand that part, but she doesn't care to get educated or get help.

None of my family does. I have two parakeets and one of my sisters has 2 parakeets. Since 2 of them are hers, I can't take them with me. But I'm the only one who takes care of the parakeets.

I'm getting help with a domestic abuse center/shelter called Sojourner Family Peace Center and Adult Protective Services. It's a very slow process and so is filling out applications for SSI and Foodshare and stuff.

I'm getting the help behind my family's back. Extended family doesn't want to get in the middle of it, so they're not helping me really. I don't really have friends either. My friends in the past abused, used, or spited me as I was growing up. For about the last 12 years, all I've really known is negative, hurtful crap.

Even on or for my birthday that entire time has been negative and/or hurtful. I'm thinking about going to a shelter for a bit, but I need to find a place for at least my birds. I can't leave them there and risk that they won't be taken care of. Again, I wish I could take my sister's birds too, but I don't think I can.

It's so hard when all you have are agencies. Those people can't give you a hug really or let you cry on their shoulder. You can't call or text them whenever you need to. Yes, there are 24/7 hotlines, but they can only add to my file, ask if I want to go to a shelter, or have them call the police.

I haven't filed a police report yet because I have no money, no license, and I'd have no shelter if it got worse after the cops left. I emailed a humane society to see if they have a temporary animal care program because giving my birds up for adoption is my last resort.

I feel very guilty and that it's all a dream or I'm making it all up. I know I shouldn't feel guilty and know that it isn't a dream or made up. But I don't know how to not feel that way.

At least once every day, I'm either yelled at or blamed by my family. I'm just so scared and my anxiety disorders don't help with that; they make it worse. I've suffered long enough, more than long enough.

I started calling around this last December because my anxiety makes me have panic attacks when calling on the phone. Otherwise I probably would've done it sooner. I'm at my wits end though.

I'm mainly running on survival instincts in my opinion because I can't let myself completely die on the inside. I only know two adjectives that are positive to describe myself: loving and kind. Otherwise I don't know who I am.

The abuse and negative crap said to me all the time has been burned into my brain so much that I don't know who I really am anymore. I'm really scared to live on my own and fully support myself because I never have.

But I know I have to because no one is going to do it for me even if I really am disabled my entire life from my anxiety disorders. Saying that it sucks isn't strong enough. I don't know what would be, but whatever that word would be, put that in place of "sucks".

The little things is what's keeping me alive in any aspect. As what Hollywood always says: "It's always the little things in life that truly matter" or something like that.

It's just all beyond hard when no one is by your side at all times and have no idea how to take care of yourself. I just wish I really knew why it keeps happening to me.

I've been asking that since middle school: "Why?" I know I don't deserve any of it. No one does. But it keeps happening.

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