I feel like I'm stuck inside of a vortex. Nothing ever turns out right. I thought getting away from my mom and going to college would be a great idea. It would mean a fresh start. But I knew I couldn't do it alone. So I decided to move in with my brother. We get along great but that's only because I haven't told him anything about myself. I didn't tell him that his best friend's older brother molested me repeatedly as a kid. I didn't tell him that I've been struggling with self-harm since I was ten. I didn't tell him that my never ceasing fear of disappointing my family is what keeps me distant from all of the people he loves. And it was never an issue before. Mostly. But now that I've been living with him for a few weeks, I'm starting to see that I was mistaken. I can't just make up an excuse for when my PTSD makes me cower in a corner. I can't ignore the fact that I never talk to my grandmother. Because he's there to constantly point it out. Right now I'm supposed to be moving into our new place. Or at least that's what would be happening if he didn't fight me so much. The issue is, I have a dog and a cat. So we need to get into an apartment that will let me have them. Finding the apartment was easy. I found one that he would approve of, even though it's an hour long bus ride to campus. I could deal with that if it meant that everyone was happy. I was lying to myself and saying that it would all be okay once we each had our own spaces. But now it's all falling apart. He wants to fight about everything. He refuses to wake up earlier than 10 am to do anything, and he leaves for work at 1 pm so trying to get anything done has been hell. Every time I bring up the fact that I'm tired of sleeping in his living room, he starts acting like a five year old. I knew that living together would be difficult for awhile but I didn't think it would be this bad. He's five years older than me. I thought he would've grown up a bit by now. I've asked him if it was a mistake for me to move in, as I asked him a million times before I ever went through with it, but he just talks in circles. I don't want to be a burden to him, but I also don't want to be treated like this. It's making me feel like it's all my fault. It's a common reaction of mine to blame myself but this goes a step further. I'm starting to doubt everything I do. I'm walking on eggshells around the only person I though I could rely on in this world. I can't pretend like I don't have feelings anymore. I'm tired of always being the strong one. But every time I break down, everything gets blames on me because I'm suddenly not there to take care of everything. I've recently lapsed back into cutting myself. And it's escalating pretty quickly. This whole situation isn't helping. I'm afraid I'm going to take it too far. I don't know what to do. I don't have anyone I can talk to. I had to quit therapy six months ago because it was too expensive. I'm just so lost right now.