Social Anxiety

When I was younger, my mother constantly reminded my sister and I of her weight of 110 and how anything more was too much. Consequently, growing up I had the idea that I could never go past 110 pounds and if I did, my mother would no longer love me.
However, what I didn't realize as a kid, but what I do of course realize now, is that my mother is only 5'1; I tower over her at 5'8. Of course I'm not going to be a mere 100pounds.
Still, though, I remember crying when I was younger because I thought I was too fat and if my own mother couldn't even love me then no one ever would. 
It's interesting how an inferiority complex could stick with a person like that; how because of things my mother told us like that growing up, both my sister and I developed social anxiety and other problems; how the environment we grow up in means so much. 
It only got worse: now I'm not only self conscious about my weight, but everything else about myself. The way I talk, walk, sit, breathe. I can't successfully communicate with people: strangers or acquaintances or family; it makes no difference. I can't pay at registers without panicking, nor can I make a phone call. Even the thought of raising my hand in class makes my heart race and stomach churn.
I'm eighteen without and job or license because the simple thought of doing either makes me nauseous and panicked; but with a family who thinks I enjoy sitting alone in a dark room all day, who thinks I'm just too lazy to work, who thinks the psychology behind this all is fake. 
I was just thinking about this all I'm bed this morning. I figured I'd write it all down; it's the only form of therapy I have.