Struggling a lot lately

I'm 22 years old, and lately it's been harder to stop thinking about what happened before. I haven't opened up to any one for help, only my partner, and a little to some family members (sadly was intoxicated and threw it out in an emotional mess.) My partner and I are currently working our way through after having a miscarriage, and during the pregnancy our doctor warned and precautioned having traumas come back up. She hit the nail on the head, I get thoughts and moments where it's replaying nonstop in my head. Doubts, worries and anxiety overwhelm me so much and most of my normal self-care practices hasn't been helping. I've lost my baby and now the person who assaulted me and that I have a difficult history with has a beautiful baby. I'm truly happy for them, but something deep inside just hurts to see the pictures of him. There's jealousy but it isn't true, I keep it separated (this isn't important but it's been apart of the loop in my head) With everything else going on, this is the last thing that I wish was in my head. ----------------Trigger WARNING--------------- This text includes potentially sensitive topics and information regard sexual assault with a minor, mental health issues, and suicide. When my mom and I had moved away from our abusive situation, my age was 13-14 years old, and the family we had moved in in those few years had a big hit. The father of the house had killed himself, and it hit every one hard, for me he was also like a dad to me as well so I could only imagine the pain or struggles his actual children were going through at the time. We moved into the home and with my depression and also suicidal thoughts, it was hard to be there, but his kids were like my brothers to me. There were three boys, the oldest of 15-16 yr of age and the two youngest were bother under 10. It felt so peaceful compared to where we were before, even if I still broken on the inside, and I spent time with my "brothers" often after school. The oldest showed me a lot of stuff that even today I still carry with me, music and games, my trust and care for him as a brother was as real as it is for my actual brothers. He wasn't a bad person, he was struggling too and we bonded over that. Over time and things were going okay, trying to deal with being separated from my close family and the break up of my parents. Admittedly pretty care free for once hah, we got to go on a trip, that's when things had started to be a bit weird. There wasn't really a room for me officially on the trip with the family towards the end, because all the youngsters got shoved in there and I would have been tossed onto the floor. Knowing the heathens that were the young ones, they would have joined me, normally that was good and fine, but I spent most of the trip babysitting them already. Spent the last day out with the older kids and the end stayed in the same room with the oldest "brother." It was a bunk set up of beds and 4 other people in the room on the 3 other beds, and I was with the person I trusted most. While asleep, he was touching me and it woke me up. My immediate thought was confusion and panic when he would touch my backside and legs, maybe he was moving, but he felt my behind for a while. There was a problem with me before, especially in confrontations, I tend to freeze or shut down. That's, regretfully for me, exactly what happened. That night nothing else happened, later after he fell asleep, I moved myself in between in the bed and the wall to sleep on the floor to be away from him. There was no confrontations with no mention of it, and I pushed it away. Acted as if nothing had happened because maybe it was just because we were sharing a bed, maybe I wasn't thinking about it right. A few months pass by, nothing happened and we were still hanging out in his room. He always played a certain game and was my motivation for playing that game too. I still love and play the same game too. Just like my actual brothers, he was super good at the game and was enthusiastic about it and that pulled me in every time. It was an escape from smaller kids and new things. Enjoying what other people enjoy brings me happiness because of how they light up when enjoying something, and we could spend hours where we would be in his room. Listening to his music, playing games or watching him play games was like a daily thing after school. I would fall asleep in his bed sometimes, but never had anything happen again so it didn't worry me and at the time it was thought to be just from being in the same bed. Currently, I wish I didn't do things like that then, because eventually he did do something. One night after helping him with something with school work, he was playing games and music was playing. Soft chill dubstep and it lulled me into a sleep, later I felt him come to bed but then while I was half asleep that's when stuff started to happen but not groping or just touching. My whole body felt frozen when it was happening, just the pure confusing silence I felt in my head in the moment and the tears that didn't feel like they didn't stop. Like I said before, the bad tendency to freeze and shut down took me over again like so many times before. It was pitch black in the room except from a purplish hue from the PC screen with the playlist video for music he had been playing. I remember him breathing quietly and never looked at him. Fear washed over me, my hand was next to my hip when it started and I remember digging my finger nails into my skin on my hip bone. After that I actually took distance a bit, my conversations with him became more absent minded and empty. He never mentioned what happened at the time and it went like that for months, until my mom and I moved out into our own place. He sent me messages about how he felt about it, how confused he was and that he talked to a friend. He said he regretted it. He admitted to so much, that even when we visited in the past he would get curious and touch me while sleeping (was 9 or 10 and he 11-12), that it kept happening until it escalated, essentially. This conversation was when I was 14-15 years old, and he 17. He talked about his depression and thoughts of suicide, and how it all is making it worse and he's giving in to those bad thoughts. Hearing that, and having so many losses personally already, it broke my heart. Even with the confusion I had and deep down pain, my worry for him was greater and on the spot I forgave him. Told him that I couldn't understand how hard it is, or was, but wanted to try. That we could still talk about things. It felt so weird but it was what I chose to do. There feels like there were so many mistakes on my part. He admitted liking stuff like that and I tried to not be judgemental and sympathized because of how much he was opening up to me. I hadn't talked to any one about what happened and was even scared of it. There were instances where our previous living situation, with the abuse and chaos, left me not caring about my self or have an extremely poor sense of self preservation in a way? Most of the time I felt like it was me blowing things out of proportion, being a drama queen, and that I already had so many problems. What's more problems to people who already have to many to deal with. The people involved were going through so much, and the worry of his life was more important than what was going on in me. Despite being in a similar situation mentally. There's so much more that happened after that, and my head honestly felt so unhinged at points. I never talked to any one else about it, at the time, and that began to take a toll on my everything. There was a re-occurring nightmare I would have at night, that would make me so panicked. The same twisted, ghastly creature, who slowly moved towards me every night, left me sleepless many nights. It was always the same but sometimes it would come from a different place. It felt so real every time, my breath and the sound of my heart pounding went from the dream into real life when I awoke. Couldn't fall asleep if it was dark, then I would start to have panic attacks that would pull me out of sleep. My schooling fell off, and I switched to online school. My normal anxiety become more severe, especially in any social environment. Convinced my mom that it was the best choice to switch to the onlone, when in reality I was running from the best choices. After isolating myself, flunked schooling and gave up, failed course after course by just not doing the work. My relationships with family and drama continued to be erratic, people talked about my failures to the young kids and discouraged them from looking up to me, and I felt so exhausted. Things continued to happen off and on between my "brother" but very rarely, and I hate that I said it was all okay or that I understood. Sometimes he was really persistent even if he had said prior if I didn't feel okay then we wouldn't. There wasn't anything positive I could say about what I did or allowed and even to this day feel like such a failure of a human being for being so weak. My forgiveness was there in words for him, but I didn't feel that forgiveness, not deep down. The idea of sexuality of sex as a whole became empty to me, no desire for it. People were attractive, sure, but in the end I felt just disgusting and undeserving. He would send me messages or we would play a game or two on occasion online, but after a big misunderstanding and disagreement regarding moving and so much more with how he was acting towards me, I stopped caring. Stopped messaging back, and sent half-thought replies, and he asked why. I never answered. My reactions to not only him or any one around me became very rash, rude, and like I didn't care. At the time, I didn't. Later down the line, when I was about 16-17 I met a guy, from another country (my lovely fiancee now) and he irritated me. How casual and free he seemed, but also straight to point. I was mean to him, every and anything he did seemed to agitate me, when all he was doing was showing interest or concern towards me. He was so patient, straight forward and gave me time and a place to put the thoughts that always seemed to flood my brain into a singular train. He told me that he could feel that something was going on underneath the surface, and that I did well to hide it. His unconditional love for people and his capability to be understanding, made me fall apart. Complete ice age meltdown of the heart. Night after sleepless night, he stayed up with me, even though he was all the way across the ocean in another country. He helped me realize that what happened was wrong. It's been so hard to say that's what it was, that I was r*ped and was broken before and even more so after. My fiancee helped me look for resources for help, he can't fix my problems, but he helps shoulder the weight. Just like I do the same for him. Even if I've still struggled to this day to really get help, or find a resolution of peace for myself. I've now talked to my mom about it, and some family members a little and my dad know some things about it. But this, this is the most I've shared on it other than with my partner. Guilt and relief fill around me right now while writing this. I've been told that what happened is like a form of Stockholm, and that I couldn't have known better. That I should pursue charges, my dad wanted to beat the person but I never said who. Somehow, I feel like I should have... The feeling of being responsible of so much that happened makes me doubt my own capabilities, to be able to protect my children in the future or being in the right state of mind so solve problems like that. Even with the love I have from my partner, I still feel so disgusting and worthless to this day. My self harm scars still remind me of where I used to be and that scares me too. Will I fall behind by reliving this, or trying to deal with it alone? I've been considering going to some one to talk to professionally one day, about everything. I'm scared to actually open that door. Most of my life, I've kept everything in and did my best to tough it out on my own, I was told that crying was weak. Bullied into believing that everything I noticed or brought up, was just being over emotional or over-reacting. I feel like I did nothing personally good, people tell me I'm strong and understanding, that even through everything, I tried to step back and take care of those around me. Yet, I feel so weak, and broken. So many blanks as what to do. I don't know why I even felt the urge to just throw this out here, it even feels kind of meh, but if any one reads this, thanks for taking the time to read this. It feels so good to get it all down in one coherent place for once. I'm sorry it's long and drawn out, and maybe even a little scattered. (With some probably really bad grammar, on my phone and typing like a mad woman) The attempt to make it more condensed was there, but we can see how that turned out lol