Old enough to know better? Are you sure?

This being my first attempt at contributing here makes me feel both awkward, naked, and conflicted. I'm so raw and I haven't slept properly for nearly two weeks at this point; telling that to perfect strangers and then explaining the reasons why in even vague detail is... strange? terrifying? I have recently begun a project with my therapist(recently being 6 wks. ago). Apparently we've moved from the wonderful and cushy "get-to-know-you, now-you-trust-me" to "let's-rip-out-your-guts-voluntarily-and-examine-them-for-information" part. Only we're not examining the entrails for clues to the future, but to divine the past. You know, that pesky place that tends to feel like it wasn't even me anymore when I think about it? The one I've disconnected myself from for so long. Now that we've begun trauma work in earnest- I came to Dr. Collins in a very unstable, dangerous state of mind close to a year ago. At the time, I was not in any condition mentally or physically to endure the trauma of trauma work. Haha. Funny, right? I thought so. Then I started this. Now I feel almost as out-of-control and frightened as when I came to her early last spring triggered several times a day, startling at almost everything, and no control over my emotions or my life. I had just left an abusive marriage, was teetering on homelessness and battling it out daily with my emotionally abusive mother who lived in the same house. I don't think I can write anything else beyond I am suddenly struggling with flashbacks to things I haven't thought about in more than twenty years; some thoughts I barely remembered at all are now the vivid, horrific, and nauseating marathons night and day. I'm running on fumes. And I've just now admitted to myself for the first time that my mother, the one person I felt had any validity, care or humanity in my life may have sexually abused me herself. I'm 29. How do you not realize these things until you are 29? I was aware of the incest between myself and my brother. Of the violation from my father. My mother was no saint, but... I just don't know anymore and it won't. stop. replaying. My body won't shut down. My mind won't stop. I just want to escape this feeling and these thoughts. 5 minutes. I just needed to tell someone or everyone. But I can't tell anyone around me. They don't know how to process this. And neither do I.