I'm not sure if my mum is abusive or not, or what I should do about it
Hello all, and I apologise in advance if my post is clumsily written. Not only do I struggle to talk about these things, I think I might be slightly concussed at the moment.
I'm 28 years old and I'm an only child, and I'm still unfortunately living with my parents, who are miraculously still together. I'm unemployed and recieving support benefits right now, and moving out isn't really an option for me at the moment. I've been diagnosed with depression and anxiety which I am on medication for, and I've been struggling with type 2 diabetes for ten years now. Yes, I was diagnosed with it at 18.
I used to think my mum was an angel. I used to think she protected me from my horrible miserable dad, who didn't like us and didn't care about us. He used to work a lot, so he wasn't home very often, and yes he used to be the one who punished me for doing bad things when I was little, so my child brain bought into it. Only within the past few years did I learn what was really going on then. Dad always felt pushed out and blamed for everything, I learnt to see him as a villain, and my mum was seeing another man and planning to take me away to live with him. He was a drug addict.
Another important point I feel like I should bring up is my mother suffers with epilepsy, and has grand mal seizures. These tend to happen if she's tired, stressed, or hasn't taken her medication. I have been exposed to these seizures since I was very young and they're terrifying, and on many occasions have required hospital visits. Of course, this isn't her fault at all, but I think she knows how badly it affects us and how we both feel the need to keep her happy now.
I self harm and the first time I cut was when I was nine. I think. I know I was still at primary school then. I don't remember much of it, but it was in the bath, and one of mum's razors was in reach. I remember when she saw it all she did was tell me to wear a long sleeved top and not let dad see. Nothing else was said about it. I was bullied a lot at school because I was a large girl, in height as well as weight, so maybe that was why I felt the need to do this, but I didn't feel like her reaction to it was particularly healthy, looking back.
I remember when I left primary school I ginally had a few friends. Most of them were boys, I was a tomboyish girl. A lot of them probably only liked me because of my mum though, because she was a 'cool' mum. She bought them porn and let them smoke. I think she was just desperate for them to like me? I remember vividly about her making this truth or dare game for us to play. I know a lot of the things in it were rather inappropriate, kissing and stuff, but the worst was a card about a boy putting his hands up a girl's top or something. We were about 11 at the time.
Secondary school was pretty bad for me. I went to a girl's grammar and never really fit in. They had strict uniform rules and because of my height and weight (for reference I am 6'2" and obese now, and I grew very quickly, I was probably about the same then) my parents struggled to get uniforms for me. I had big feet too, so I had awful man's shoes. I remember having an awful pair of tailored trousers that didn't even fit, because according to mum she couldn't get me grey trousers anywhere else. I only had one pair, and they didn't get washed until the weekend. My blazer didn't fit properly either and it was humiliating. Skirts were an option but until then I'd never really worn many girl's clothes, mum usually got me men's clothes, so I didn't feel comfortable in those at all. The few times I did wear one I was made fun of.
My schoolwork declined and my relationship with my father got worse, we would argue a lot and he would get frustrated and hit me. Mum would hit me too, but somehow this was overshadowed. She'd also shout and throw things and break my stuff. But dad always seemed to be made out to be the evil one somehow. I couldn't concentrate, I got extremely anxious in classes, I couldn't do my homework, and this made things worse. I started self harming again, and when I was 15 I was in hospital for a few days because I overdosed on the antidepressants I was given at the time. I was often in the toilets cutting myself and being sent home. Mum would never really have any sympathy, I was just being a pain because she had to come and pick me up. Oh, and I was stressing her out. Which made her epilepsy worse.
I managed to scrape together a handful of GCSEs thanks to private tuition but no one was really proud of me. I was a failure and I knew it. I got into college and failed there too. My first year was fine but I couldn't cope with my national diploma and dropped out. It was all too much.
Since then I've not really done much with myself other than get worse mentally. I've tried volunteering and was employed part-time for a while, but I could never stick to anything. I was too anxious, too self-deprecating. Too tired as well! My diabetes is very poorly controlled. Mum never really knew what portion control meant and as a result, I struggle to control my eating habits now as well. She used to let me eat whatever. I remember her buying me big bags of chocolate, crisps, whatever, probably just to shut me up? I don't know. Or maybe to make her look like an even better guy compared to dad. Either way I honestly think that's why I was dianosed as diabetic when I was 18. And it terrifies me.
Of course if I bring that up with mum its my fault. And I honestly feel guilty about it.
Over the past few years anyway, things have deteriorated with my mum. I gained a new burst of self-confidence in my body when I went to college, and since then I've tried to dress in clothing I feel good in, but she usually tells me it looks bad. Or my skirt's too short, or its too tight, or whatever it is. I'm fat and ugly and I should cover up, I guess, but I don't want to, its the one thing I have that makes me feel good about myself.
She's also very abusive with my dad, expects him to do everything and do the house up, yadda yadda. Now our house isn't amazing, but it belongs to us, and the morgage is paid off, and considering how things are in the UK right now, that's pretty good for a working class family. We have a stable roof over our heads and I feel like we should be grateful for it. But its never good enough for her.
She's also started getting jealous with my recent relationship with my grandparents (her parents). My grandfather had a stroke earlier this year, and I have been helping to care for him, mostly just by being around for them and cooking. They've been grateful and not minced their words telling me this, which has been amazing for me, I've been so happy to help and its felt so good to feel useful finally. But mum doesn't like it, because SHE'S not getting praised, she doesn't get this, or that, even though she doesn't do what I do.
What finally made me snap was yesterday. She started complaining about dad again, and I told her she shouldn'#t complain so much about him. It turned into an argument which ended with her snatching up the TV remote and smashing it around my head.
I need to do something but I honestly don't know what. She terrifies me, this wasn't her first violent act against me, she often throws things but I honestly feel like she's given me concussion, and it terrifies me to think what she might do next. She feels absolutely no remorse. Not once have I ever got an apology from her. I think she'd have happily grabbed a knife if it was to hand and got me with that instead, and not felt bad about it, simply because 'I made her angry'. Is this good enough to go to the police with? I don't want to seem like a timewaster. Or is there any mental health services I can call, because I honestly think she needs help.
Thanks if you bothered to read through this post. I'd really appreciate any input
100% accurate in all their details...however also do not dismiss them as having no basis. 
ah30
might wanna ask a lawyer in your country/state? laws differ from place to place, and we aren't qualified to offer legal advice 