Can I post an introduction? TW: child abuse. Also, very long. I apologize.

Hi... whenever I've described an interaction between me and my mother (or father), I have been directed here. I'm not really sure what the purpose of this post is, except maybe to gain some understanding and reassurance. For some reason, even when people tell me they're listening, or they believe me and want to understand, it's difficult for me to believe them... I feel like I have strange neuroses that are hard to explain (I don't make friends easily, no trust in strangers, don't like being snuck up on, afraid of the dark...), and as a 26 year old person, I feel like I'm a fucking weird person and a part of me wants to understand my parents' role in that; not to lay blame, because it's already kind of clear to me and I think that blaming them for my problems as an adult is unproductive, but just to understand. I feel like you guys on this sub will probably understand that perspective.

Can I give a brief background on them and their impact on my life? I can be long-winded sometimes, but I want to keep it as short as I can while giving sufficient background...So, I apologize.

My mother and father were both long-time meth addicts before they chose to have me. My father is severely mentally disturbed, and no one has ever been sure of what exactly is wrong with him; for instance, he would obsess over himself, and write sci-fi short stories or poems about himself as a hermaphrodite god/goddess worshipped by a planet of sex-crazed humanoids, and he would draw pictures of himself as such with like two penises and a vagina. If that's not already wtf enough, my mother told me (when i was way, way too young to hear about something like this) that he tried over time to cut his actual penis in half, succeeding by about one full inch before giving up. Related to that, my mother has often told me about how he would obsess over wanting a child, because he wanted to truly be as close to god-like as possible; once I was born, he would refer to me often as his "creation" and other similar weird things. When I was a little older, like around 4, I got around to telling my mother and grandmother about how he'd been sexually abusing me for as long as I could remember. Cue the saga of my grandmother and aunt (on my mother's side) trying to go to court repeatedly and failing (I was the sole witness and too young to testify), until they just gave up (he runs free). He lost custody, but a year later my mother took him back for unknown reasons and the abuse resumed for several months before she kicked him out for good. While my mother was never sexually abusive, and she quit meth (not for me but because she developed endocarditis and was told that if she didn't quit, she would die), but she continued to drink heavily... her cruelty was all verbal, I guess; telling me whenever I did something to piss her off (or not, I was never sure of what I had done wrong) that she should have left me with my father... or that I would turn out just like him. She would make me feel so, so guilty for things like night terrors (which are a symptom of abuse), or crying, or for doing weird things like only sleeping under the bed. I developed bizarre neuroses and a stutter that had to be corrected over a period of several years. When in kindergarten, classmates found out about my father, I became the subject of bullying (beatings, verbal ridicule, exclusion; all ignored by teachers who sometimes even egged bullies on, not even joking). My mother's demeanor never changed. She also would do things like randomly invite my father over throughout my childhood, to watch a movie or play a board game with me, because she felt that I needed a father figure; then, she would tell me about how she sacrifices herself for me, how she hasn't had sex or a boyfriend in ___ years to protect me from men, who in her words, all just want to get close to women's daughters. She gave my father my phone number when I was in high school, and told him where I worked (where he would show up almost every day to get a coffee from me). In high school, anytime I had a new friend come over, or a boyfriend, she would drag out "the bucket of evidence" containing pictures my father took of himself in lingerie, denim cutoffs all over which which he scrawled "rape me", and a bunch of his weird stories and poems and drawings. They would all react like "your mom is fucking weird and it's kind of awesome, will she buy me weed?" and I would laugh, because what else can you do? Get angry? At 19, I got a boyfriend and moved in with him to get away from my mother. Her ridicule diminished, since I wasn't physically present, but never went away. That boyfriend is long gone (he was alright, a pretty good dude just not for me), and I'm engaged to a guy who I love dearly; his mother is a flaming narcissist, his father is kindly but unfit for parenting (kind of a trembling paranoid schizophrenic) and was out of the picture before his sixth year... this sweet guy lived with my mother and I when he was sixteen and I was seventeen, and we were romantic for a year or so before going our separate ways for a long time (got together again in 2011, relationship's been strong). He's met my father, he knows what my life was like. My only other major ally in my life was my grandmother (my mother's mother), who took care of me when my mother was at work (which, blessedly, was most of the time). Without her shining influence, I think I wouldn't be a functioning human now. She died in September, this year. Um... I'm also 23 weeks pregnant.

Anyway, TL;DR: My mother did drugs for so long she's irreparably insane, my father is a child molester, they're horrible people and escaping them has been difficult. Childhood bullying left a lasting impression on me. My grandmother, my only ally throughout childhood, died three months ago. My fiance is wonderful and has seen my parent's true selves first hand many times, and understands me like no one else. Yet, I feel like I need some kind of vindication, and you guys seem like you'd understand.

EDIT I just refreshed this and... before, it had one point (upvote? I'm not super familiar with reddit, still) and now it has zero... does that mean it was downvoted? I don't understand. My reaction, honestly, was to immediately burst into tears, and then feel bad for crying about something so insignificant (no one likes a drama queen). Am I just being dramatic? Should I just not talk about it? I feel like when I've tried to open up about troubles like these, people get uncomfortable or impatient or even outright tell me to stop harping on it... and I lose confidence. Am I focusing too much on myself? I feel really truly lost. Last night, I gave thought to how much easier it would be to just disappear. I try not to think like that, I try to be positive, but sometimes I get so scared and so overwhelmed. I'm a burden to all. My mother calls this "attention seeking behavior" and tells me that it's a great way to lose friends and loved ones. She's told me this so many times, I've often wondered if I'm the one who's fucking insane?