MommaDuck You sound like an incredible woman. No apologies necessary. It has helped beyond measure to hear from somebody who absolutely gets it in the way that my "real life" friends and acquaintances wouldn't. I'm in awe of your strength momma.
I absolutely get you about craving a mum to cry to. Much like your account, mine has never been able to comprehend the deep sadness I've felt at various points when I've needed her.
My start was somewhat similar to yours in the sense of grandparents stepping in. I was cared for by grandparents until the age of 8 (except mum was also living in the house - my grandparents took on the parenting role) and then mum got a house of her own and went to live independently, with me.
I've never known my father or been able to get any real information from mum. What I do know is that I was the product of a very brief "relationship" and my grandparents (both now deceased) didn't approve. I suspect this is because they were dubious about his intentions, given the way mum was.
So from the age of 8 I was thrust into "parent" mode and remember having to read all of the mail to mum, and getting worried when the demands for bills came. My grandparents remained hugely supportive but we're nearing the end of their lives by then and both sadly died when I was around 13.
Mum was a magnet for predatory individuals who clearly only got involved with bad intentions. One of these men tried to abuse me after luring me to his flat to gift me a mobile phone, after grooming me right under her nose.
She used to shout and swear in public and as a result of that we became a target for local youths, two different houses we lived in had completely boarded up windows and i remember feeling so humiliated and not wanting anybody to know where I lived.
I stopped attending school in year 6, she wasn't bothered, then tried to return to another school in year 7 but that didn't last long so I dropped out completely.
Social services were involved and I was deemed to be neglected, but they never took me into care (looking back I desperately wish they had done).
She was always bad with money so we were always skint, if I needed new clothes I had to shop lift. I remember her going into asda filling up a trolly full of stuff and walking out with it, she wasn't caught.
There were no rules and I was left to run wild and took full advantage of that, believing it was a good thing. I got in with a bad crowd at 13 and began taking drugs recreationally and she just thought it was funny, she still to this day reminds me in humour of the time I was hallucinating after taking ecstasy and thought I could see faces in the bushes, and laughs about it. I was 14. She also purchased me ecstasy on one occasion. I ended up in hospital twice after accidental overdoses and she didn't have much to say about it afterwards in terms of punishment. The first time it happened I ended up in intensive care needing emergency surgery. I'd had a tonsilectomy on my 13th birthday (great birthday that was) then less than a fortnight later was out with my "friends" taking drugs, the wounds in my mouth opened up as a result of me swallowing amphetamines as they hadn't yet healed - so I was bleeding profusely from my throat, rushed to hospital and put under for surgery.
When I came around in the ICU she was nitpicking as soon as I opened my eyes so she was asked to leave by the doctors.
Social services still did nothing, and they knew about all of this as I was under a child protection plan.
She allowed a middle aged man into the house to take harder drugs with me when I was 14/15, she just sat across the room laughing and joking.
She didn't bat an eye when men old enough to be my dad were sniffing around me and did absolutely no safeguarding. Some pretty bad stuff happened that still troubles me now but I can't quite bring myself to admit to half of it.
I "grew out of" the drug use by 16 with no encouragement from her, I was fortunate not to become addicted to anything.
We moved into a house that actually had windows and life wasn't too bad but then she developed a liking for booze and would go drinking with the neighbour across the road. I hated that and would worry alot. As soon as she stopped getting child benefit for me she made it clear I wasn't wanted in the house so I moved in with a friend a few months shy of my 17th birthday. She would cause scenes on the street near the flat, shouting up at the window after we had an argument. I still remember her screeching "nobody likes you" which she had clearly observed as being the case (I didn't have many friends, surprise surprise)
The flat where I lived was just around the corner from her house and I went to visit her one day to find both of my aunt's there, I was happy to see them (they lived in the other side of the country - where I live now) but it then became apparent that they were there to "collect" mum and move her down to where she (and i) lives now.
Nobody told me anything, the plan was to get rid of her pets and pack whatever would fit into the car and to leave without telling me "because you would have tried to stop her or would want to move with her"
It turns out she had been on the phone to them painting me as the devil saying I was the reason she drinks, which is utter lies. I hadn't done a thing wrong to her at all, apart from try to stop her drinking. She lies alot, this was when I started to realise that.
I still had half of my stuff at her house so they promised not to leave before I could arrange for it to be collected, I planned to come back in two days with my friend and transport the rest of my stuff.
I went home and was heartbroken because she was all I had in the world, as bad as she was.
Two days passed and I went to her house to collect my stuff and say goodbye as arranged and she had already gone. I called the estate agent and explained what had happened, told them I needed to get access to collect my stuff.
Met with the estate agent who let me in and there was nothing there, only my diary was there which someone had put in the storage cupboard. My computer was gone aswell as everything else I had there.
I didn't get to speak to mum for three months or so after this as she changed her number and my aunt was blocking any attempt of me getting through. When I did finally speak to her she claims she left my computer in the cupboard safe with the rest of my stuff "so somebody clearly broke in and took it"
At 18 I ended up in an abusive relationship, she didn't bother coming down to check on me, she knew everything that was happening. I had a baby at 19 who was taken away from me at birth and subsequently adopted because SS said i had no support and couldn't keep him safe from the father, despite me pressing charges and moving into a refuge and doing everything asked of me. When applying to have him adopted they heavily referenced my bad upbringing (that they failed to protect me from) as another reason I wouldn't be a good enough parent. Another blow and reminder of how much she had let me down.
She was nowhere to be seen.
The mug that I am, desperately wanting my mum, chose to move to where she lives when I turned 23 and this is where I am now.
I've gone on to become a mother again (a good one at that, if I do say so myself) and have built a good life for myself, a lovely DH, relatively well paid job despite my lack of education, and have built a good solid foundation for my DC. If you met me you would never know I came from the background that I did.
When I arrived here at 23 it became apparent she was still drinking, still screaming and shouting making a scene in public, still lying and being deceitful, still blaming everybody else for her problems in life. I received an apology from the aunt's who took her at face value when she said I was the reason she would drink.
I did everything in my power to support her, I sourced her support for the drinking and would accompany her to appointments. I handled all of her admin. I bailed her out time and time again when she claimed she was in dire straights. I took control of her finances (with her permission) and would take her shopping every week and endlessly tried to help her budget.
She has fallen over drunk countless times and ended up in the hospital, she drinks more now than she did when I lived with her. I've had to take her to hospital countless times and wasted NHS resources.
I've had to parent her whilst parenting my own DC who are far less difficult (my eldest is on the spectrum and can be hard work, but my god it's a walk in the park compared to my mother)
And here we are, many years later, and she is still doing the same things. She drinks less now, to her credit, but is still wasting all of her money and expecting others to pick up the pieces.
Despite everything, I still love her deeply and so I'm terribly conflicted when it comes to continuing to support her.
I think I always will, but I've now drawn the line with money.
Wow that was a bit of an essay of my own there, hope I haven't bored anybody! It feels cathartic to get it all out iykwim.