Trigger Warning- depression and ptsd

So, I don't know that anyone really reads this, but that's probably good in this case. I've been trying to write in my journal more, but it's not working. I thought I'd try here. I lost my mom about 3 months ago. Since then, I've had back surgery, been put in charge of my dad's finances, still have to go through probate court (which costs $360 dollars just to file), been told that our roof is starting to leak, we have no money for a headstone for my mom, realized our living room tv has died, and learned that when probate court puts my name as head of my mom's "estate" that I will be financially responsible for the property taxes and any bills that have to be settled. Oh, and I might be losing my health insurance at the end of March. So there's all that. Then there's my stuff. Stuff like dealing with my mom's death. Like how I feel like I personally killed her. I feel like if I had tried at all, my dad and Pearl would have let the doctor's try surgery. The docs all said it was a very small chance of helping, but we never gave it to them. We took her off the meds keeping her alive and let her die. I failed her. I gave up on her. It's my fault. She always told me I was the only reason she was alive, and I killed her. And then I sat at her bedside and cried while watching her fingers turn blue. Every time I watch Frozen,and Anna's fingers start to turn to ice, I have a small mental panic attack. When I fall asleep at night, I see my hand holding my mom's blue fingers. And then she talks to me. I have nightmares almost every night now. She tells me I let her down. That I've had years of warning, and still wasn't prepared for it. She tells me I let them kill her. That it's my fault. She says if we'd just waited a day, one single day, she would have been okay. Not perfect, but alive and okay. Now she's in the ground and she's rotting and it's my fault. I sincerely feel like I'm losing my hold on whatever it is that's kept me sane this long. I'm gonna lose it, and I'll be useless. I'll fall all the way apart, and never be me again. I hate having all this responsibility. My dad isn't in any sort of shape to help himself, let alone take care of me. My sister doesn't even talk to me, unless it's to ask me to watch her kids. I am drowning in misery, and I'm too scared to reach out for any kind of help. My words are never right. I don't know how to ask for help. I can't find the shore.