Am I in the Wrong Here?
I’m 18, but I feel like I’ve lived 3 lifetimes. My parents abused me since I was 7 years old. My dad watched me while I slept with a loaded g\*n, threatened to 🪦 me over trivial things. Then my mother came around, gaslit me to oblivion and told me I would be the reason my father 🪦 himself. I spent most of my childhood building myself up to escape that house. I earned a 4 year army ROTC scholarship to a Senior Military College, and made sure my college was paid for. I found my wife when I was 11, and dated her up until the day I turned 18 and we sealed the deal. The days before I left I had a massive argument with my parents, I told them I felt no love for them beyond basic human empathy, that I never trusted them. I said maybe if they gave me space in my first semester to process my life, I would go to family therapy and try to build the bridge that was never there. Initially they agreed, but when I told my mother I wanted to bring my wife (she still thinks she my gf) up for family weekend (because my school is a military college we basically have a boot camp for the whole first semester), she flipped out and said she tried to ruin the family (my wife just went to her foster mother about my abusive parents). She went behind my back to try to get my wife on the streets (she was leaving foster care and had benefits lined up, but my mother tried to get DCF to revoke them if she moved into an apartment with an elderly friend of ours. Keep in mind my wife is a diabetic so she would be at risk of death on the street. My mother almost succeeded if it weren’t for my wife’s state provided attorneys. After this I told my mother to stay away from my school, and not to come up for family weekend. My mom proceeded to attempt a complete dismantling of my adult independence. I had a signed agreement with my grandmother to have authorized usership on her credit card (she has an 825 credit score and perfect history on that card); my mother manipulated my granny into revoking that, plummeting my credit score down to a miraculous “3”, which apparently is a placeholder number. My grandmother shortly after, by my mom’s direction, revoked my access to my UTMA account, an investment vehicle where I had over 70% of my net worth stored. I was forced to take my own grandmother to probate court against an experienced attorney (my own cousin) pro se. It took hours upon hours to develop adequate documentation and statutory standing for the court proceeding, but I ended up winning. While I was preparing for this case I realized I had to move out of my parents house, but not only was I getting PT’d out of my mind every morning, my mother actually called the school and got an administrator to disclose and then deny my leave, risking all of my belongings. I was humiliated during this process, because after the call the admin had with my mother, I was called to his office to explain my leave request and he began interrupting me, raising his voice, and cussing at me. He called me "a bullshit liar", and denied my offer to present evidence of my living situation and testimony. He also mocked the way I was speaking about my situation, telling him that he wasn't speaking like a normal person. I had to go through this whole debacle where my stuff was at risk and I had to threaten the school with a lawsuit before they finally let me go a month later. Unbeknownst to me, while I was visiting a licensed therapist at my college, my mother also called their office and convinced them I was a crazy liar. I simply stopped going to therapy at that point, I mean, at least they told me about my mom’s call. During this time I had no access to my army pay because of the government shutdown preventing me from signing my contract (never got that lost pay back🥲), so when I got back for thanksgiving break, me and my wife had to ration cold cuts. When I got back, my “eccentric” roommate, who constantly flipped out and punch walls and screamed, confessed to myself and my other roommate that he committed a, “felonious crime of a SA nature against a young, impressionable minor who had BPD”. We immediately reported it to the title IX office, and to cadre, and to the commandants office, and to the dean. What happened? They told him we reported him and he came back brandishing me with a weapon. Reported that too. Nothing happened. Our cadre were terrified for our safety but the school was more concerned about the liability of kicking the kid out. They told us to grow a pair. When he finally threatened to “🪦 and behead” the admin staff, they moved him to a different barracks/dorm, where they had to give a safety briefing to everyone in his unit. They didn’t take away his key, and we found him in our room the next day waiting for us. Eventually he sold all of his things and dropped out, but not without allegedly SAing a friend of mine. You know the reason they did nothing about my reports? Because the administrator who spoke with my mother was smearing my name to the rest of the admin, calling me a “Machiavellian manipulator” in front of my 60 year old superiors. I eventually signed my army contract, and got my stuff, moved into a new apartment with my wife, and got recognized as a cadet at my college. Then my mother tries to steal my tax return, and my grandfather goes into hospice, but guess what? My school delays my leave just enough for me to miss his passing by one day because they had to “confirm my situation”. I didn’t even get to say goodbye because of my mother. My grandfather wasn’t an adult in my life, he was a friend. Now my apartment is getting foreclosed, my wife got defrauded and lost her checking account, and we have to find away to move out. Thank goodness we have a place to go already sorted out. Given all of this, am I overreacting for rapidly detaching myself from my parents? Am I overreacting by telling them how I feel about them? Do you have any advice for me as an 18 year old diving independent adult life?