Overreacting *possible tw*

This is the first thread I’ve ever created. I’ve always liked the idea of journaling my feelings and I used to do that but now it’s just not enough. Nothing is enough anymore. People always say to have coping mechanisms but at the end of the day they won’t make the pain go away. Am I just supposed to distract myself from it for the rest of my life? I know that there are other options, like therapy, but I just don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can tell my family about my “problem” again. I feel like I don’t even have a right to be feeling this way. I shouldn’t even be upset about it. So why am I? If it’s not a big deal why do I get nightmares and flashbacks? Why do I disassociate? I know it’s obvious that something is wrong but I don’t want to face it. This probably sounds weird but I miss self harming. The last time I cut myself was probably last year and I know if I start again I’ll be stuck in that vicious cycle. However, I feel like it’s the only thing that made me feel a little better. Although, a part of me would feel worse seeing those scars on my wrists. Honestly I’m so tired of talking about it but then again I feel like I can’t talk about it enough. I want to get used to talking about it but I feel like it’s pointless. Everything just seems so hopeless. I try to convince myself that what he did wasn’t that bad. Sometimes when I tell people on here what happened they asked me if I liked it. This probably sounds sick but I wish I did. And I try to convince myself of that too. If I liked it I wouldn’t have to be here right now. If it didn’t happen then maybe I would I be enjoyable to be around. Maybe I would be bubbly and outgoing but instead I’m socially awkward and my family complains about the fact that I don’t talk much. Do I hold a grudge against them? Kind of. But I don’t want to. I know it’s not their fault. They didn’t know what was happening behind closed doors. But then again. They never noticed when me and him were gone. They never accidentally walked into the room when it was happening. Now, whenever I go to the bathroom I always hear someone ask where I am. Why couldn’t they do that before? Why couldn’t they find out the first time? So it wouldn’t have happened over and over again. I feel like everything in my life is just going downhill. It’s so hard to pay attention in class and I know my friends get annoyed when I distance myself from them. They talk about things that remind me of my “problem” and I feel like telling them about it but there’s no use. Like I said, I shouldn’t even be upset about it. It’s getting harder and harder to fake a smile. I feel like everyone in my life expects me to be happy all the time but it’s hard to be happy when there’s a hole in your heart that can’t be filled. I feel like a ship and the trauma is an anchor. It stops me a lot of the time but even when the anchor isn’t down I know that it’s still there and it’s ready to stop me at any time. There’s many reasons why and I should and shouldn’t tell them about it again and I know that there’s better reasons why I should. However, I feel like I’ll be ruining everything. My family is happy and close now. They all really like him. Who am I to shatter their image of him? It probably won’t change anyway. Even after I told her what happened, my mom said that he was a good person and that he had a big heart. Maybe he does. I feel like I don’t know anything. What he did probably isn’t even considered to be abuse and I’m probably just overreacting. I mean if it was really bad why would my mom tell me that it wasn’t? Why would my family see him as a great guy? I’m just overreacting.