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I don't even know where I'm going with this. I think there's something wrong with me.

Wall of text.

I live in a broken family, I only know broken people. In a small town, the whole people don't talk to the broken people. Once you break, you don't exist.

My boyfriend lives with but does not speak to his parents. His father has two illegitimate kids that we know of, and probably more. His mother is kind, but too meek for her own good. My boyfriend has problems with his job, his parents, and his anger. He flies into rages and punches doors weekly. I know he'd never hurt me. Once he peeled out in his truck before I had my seatbelt on and I faceplanted into the dashboard and he dropped me off at my place, cut down two trees and then picked me up later, his eyes still red from crying.

My father used to beat me. He was a master manipulator, pulling strings like you wouldn't believe. I had enough of it once when I was twelve. He threw me down a set of stairs into our garage, and then pounded me into the floor. When he picked me up by my throat and slammed me into the wall, I touched my pocketknife between his ribs and pushed until the blood started seeping into his shirt. It was only a little cut, nothing close to what I'd done to myself over the creeping inadequacy that he made me feel, but he never touched me after that.

He almost killed my mom. No one believes me, but I know he did. She got really sick, and was throwing up every night, I could hear her from my room. I don't remember her ever looking healthy. There are pictures from when I was little, she was beautiful. After she hit 85 pounds, she didn't really get better after that.

The way that he manipulated us drove us all a little crazy. My little sister doesn't even remember the worst of it and she's been hopping from treatment center to rehab to center for two years. She just turned fifteen. He's been gone for four years. He has a family and a baby now. A nice new wife (my old babysitter) and a pretty little house. We're shells of who we were.

My mom thinks that I'm twisted. That he turned things in my head inside out in ways they should never be turned. I almost agree with her. She hates me.

She says I'm as bad as he was, that I manipulate and lie and hurt everyone around me. Sometimes I catch myself lying. It's always little things. Nothing big, nothing important, nothing worth lying over. I just can't stop. She hates that I can't talk to someone and be touching them at the same time, especially if they're angry or upset. I flinch when people yell at me. My boyfriend walked past me and slammed a cabinet once and I almost pissed myself. I feel guilty for flinching, for automatically thinking that someone's going to hit me.

But after my dad, and then my sister turning their anger towards me physically, I just can't help it. My mom was the one person I could count on to only yell or throw things. And then a couple weeks ago I was awake too late and she freaked out and grabbed my hair to hold my head still while she hit me. Then she pushed me onto the ground and I ran. I slept in a friend's car that night, even though it was forty degrees. I know she called the cops to find me, but it took me two days to get the courage to go home and at least get another pair of jeans or a jacket. I didn't even have my shoes on when I left.

I have deep, dark depressions. I've attempted four times, resulting in two ER visits and a stomach pump.

Now I've been laid off from my job, the holidays are rapidly approaching, and I'm scared to breathe wrong or I might ruin christmas. I don't even have friends. The only people that I can count on to be around for me to vent with or try to get out of the house with are my boyfriend and my pot dealer.

I can't afford therapy, and it doesn't work because I can't stop lying and pretending everything's okay. In my family, it's not okay to be upset. If you cry, you're being a baby and you get beat up. If you want to talk about your feelings, you're an idiot and you need to get your head on straight and realize that the world won't stop just cause you don't feel good.

Even the free clinics, like MHMR are an hour's drive away, and I can't afford the gas to go, especially having just been laid off.

I have to go get my check in the morning and I'm scared that I'm going to blow up at my boss and ruin my chance of getting a decent referral.

I'm sorry if this didn't make much sense. I need help and I don't know where to go and I don't know what's wrong with me and I can't afford to go anywhere. I've been up for three days and I can't eat without throwing up and I hurt all over and I just want to smoke a bowl and go to sleep but I don't have any money and I know it's not the answer. That when I wake up, I'll still be me. Just poorer, and with a hell of a headache.

I try to put the past behind me, to get a job and just get out of this house because it feels like that's the only answer at this point, but now I have no money, and I can't even get christmas presents for my family (oncoming guilt trip, I can feel it). At this point I would just really like to die, but unfortunately, I don't even have the money to pay for my own funeral, and that would just make me an even bigger disappointment/burden/jackass.

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make my mom happy. She says I treat our "home" like a hotel, and I can't help it. At least hotels are relatively safe. I stay out as much as I can, I don't even come home on weekends, but she doesn't notice because she's always at her boyfriend's house. I come home to shower and sleep. I hate this house and everything in it, and she hates me for hating it. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about it, because it isn't a home. It isn't safe. It isn't right.

I just need help and I don't have anywhere to go. I don't even know what kind of help I can get, but this isn't working.

My boyfriend comes from somewhat of a broken family too. His parents divorced when he and his sisters were all under 10, and his mom is pretty much an alcoholic. His sisters used to drink lots too, until they both had babies earlier this year (they're my age, a few months older). He's not very close to his family (though he has a certain amount of respect for his mom), and thankfully is very close to me. Despite what he's been through (alcoholic mother, physical abuse as "discipline" growing up), he would never ever hurt me. I've never been afraid of him hurting me or taking out his anger on me.

I don't know how old you are, or if you're still in school, but if you're close to the age of being an adult, maybe you could move out? Maybe you and your boyfriend could move in together? I don't know where you live, but if you're able to, maybe you could look into getting emancipated from your parents? (I do know it's a difficult process, but not much more than that.)

As Lorien said, if your home is not a happy or safe place for you, I can totally understand why you wouldn't want to spend a lot of time at home. (That's why I suggested moving out if you'd be financially and legally able to make it work.)

I came from a good, loving home, and I moved out at 19 because my mom and I were fighting near constantly and I couldn't deal with it anymore.