Changes

I am at a loss. I left home yesterday to move in with my boyfriend in California. I have been living in Montana for around nine years. I am in a total panic. After a full week of my boyfriend and i not getting along one but I am now 1,2oo miles from home living with him. I fear that I have pushed myself too far too fast since my mothers death and since my last breakup. I fear I have made hasty decisions and every inch of my body is screaming, "just go home." I want to be with my dad. I'm 26 and having a full body nervous breakdown and just want my daddy. I am seriously afraid that my father will die. I live in fear that I have missed my opportunity to spend time with him and now I am leaving. I fear that my boyfriend's ADHD is a bad combination with my high anxiety personality. I sit here typing away in the middle of our bed calmer that I have been in three days for an unknown reason. And let me explain that I have spent the last three days crying at hour and a half intervals for fifteen to thirty minutes each. I'm having full on panic attacks with my heart racing, hyperventilating, tears streaming down my face, and my sinuses so plugged I almost choke. I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know why I'm doing, I just know I'm doing. And I feel like every time I leave home, every time I try to find my own little place in the world, find my career, something, anything goes wrong and everything unravels. I'm safe at home, I'm happy at home, I know how to do things at home. Which begs the question: why do we so look down on those that make that choice, the choice to just stay home, take care of the their parents, stay safe? Why is it really that sad of a thing to do? What would be so wrong with just going back, keeping my room, make sure my dad takes care of himself, train dogs (that's what my family does for a living), run ranch equipment, and live my life in the utter knowledge that I am secure, my existence is consistent, I don't have fear, and I can count on things?