Hope this is not too long to read. I am at the end of my capacities.

So I (f28) (having trichotillomania since 2yo, self harm in 2015, psych ward in 2015 and 2020) am currently living with my mother, step father and brother because I broke up with my ex of 8 years in march. Had a miscarriage in february, doing therapy since 2020 (where I've been to a mental ward due to being suicidal), taking Lithium and recently found my own flat where I can hopefully move in in october. 

Last night I was having some me-time in the bathtub at my parents home where I was journaling (my therapist suggested collecting my mental states - writing them down and giving them names, additional I did a analysis of a situation the day prior where I was over the top reacting emotionally and what this sadness that lies beneath it is really about. So I did my homework in the bathtub.) and then I heard my mother coming from the living room in my direction and my tension startet to rise. I told her I do not want to be controlled. She snapped and went back to the living room. I tried to remain calm.

 After I finished my me-time I couldn't keep myself together and snapped at her being selfish and using me as her scapegoat (out of context, my brain told me the story of how she used me as her mental waste bin as a child and how sad I was I never had someone like me in my life like she had with me I could rely on for emotional support). After that I went into rage mode because I thought she was defensive and I hit my head with my hands multiple times due to feeling intense shame, guilt and wanting to unalive myself. Felt like a burden and a sick piece of shit. Was being paranoid blaming her and the others, crying and arguing with her in the hallway, she went out because she couldn't take it anymore and I made her feel guilty for leaving me just like my father left me when I was a baby. I felt like everyone was leaving me behind.

I started to calm down and when she came back explained that I am at a point where I no longer hope to live the life I dreamed about and that's why I think about ending it. She said she obviously couldn't help me and "why are we talking about it if you would kill yourself anyway?" And it hurt much more on so many levels. It added to the pile of self blame too. Because even tho I experience so much good stuff it always seems like there is a price for it - my mental breakdowns and the feeling of not having deserved any of this for free. Every good thing I experience turns into a episode of depression, rage and hurt. Always wanted to be a mother - but lost my child. Left my boyfriend. Have no place to live. Body keeps having functional deseases. No friends anymore. Unable to remain in healthy relationships. Antidepressants not working. Not able to think clearly. Mistrust for psychistrists and my therapist. General feeling of dealing with constant manipulation - not able to trust and feeling alone. Destroying closest relationships due to my inability to cope.

I am so anxious about my future. I am afraid to be alone with myself and I am afraid I will never get the help I deserve/need. I am anxious about being my worst enemy for myself but not noticing it and projecting it onto the ones closest to me. I could cry when I think about it. I wish I wouldn't have to live THIS life.

How can I find out what's the real help and what's not? 
How is help even suppose to look at this point?
It seems it got worse over the years.

Sorry for the long post - thank you for reading.