Apologies for the long post. The really, really long post. But, if you're here and ready for a ride, buckle up.
I've never had a great relationship with my mother. My DF passed away when I was young and it became obvious that he'd protected me from my mother's mental health problems for years.. pretty much straight after he passed, what was my family home became a party house- pretty much every night, every day- drugs, alcohol, you name it. She'd always tell me how much she hates me, that I'll never be like my sister, and would constantly tell me that I'm fat, ugly, whatnot. We weren't allowed to eat in the house, and would have to sit and watch her gorge on tens of pounds of chocolate and sweets, then throw them back up again. I'd have to hide food, or over-eat whilst at school/friend's houses just so I wouldn't need to eat at home. There were many days where she'd be drunk and high, would beat me senseless and then I'd walk the couple of miles it took to get to school because I wouldn't be allowed money for the bus. It's just how life was. Social services were involved but, as per, they were pretty useless. There'd be times where I'd be dealing with paramedics or the police at the house at 5AM because one of us had woken up to find my mother had self harmed, or threatened to kill us. She was placed in mental health facilities numerous times, and I'd walk there from school to see her, then walk home and carry on with school work whilst my brother and sister carried on using the house like a party venue.
I had to grow up pretty quick, and focused on my education. I had nobody backing me, but myself, so yeah, I guess I'm proud of myself for that. Got a job whilst in school, put myself through university twice and now work in the medical field.
I met my (now) DH when I was 18. He supported me through absolutely everything, despite my family being so completely unsupportive. We accidentally got pregnant (medication unknowingly negated our birth control) and miscarried at 4 months. My mother was nowhere to be seen, but called the day after to tell me how she lost three before she had me, so it's 'not that bad'. The day before I left for university, I was beaten by my sister, had my hair ripped out and then had an abusive phonecall from my mother, who called me everything you can imagine- and told me that I'm 'a snobby, spoilt bitch who needs to remember where she came from'. I moved to university with a black eye.
My mother had no interest in my being in university until my final year, where I attended a family funeral and on the way there, she asked what I was studying. She then went on to tell everyone at the funeral that she was so proud of her daughter, who is going to be an English teacher- note, that's not what I told her I was studying for.
Fast forward, and my (then) boyfriend proposed. All of a sudden, my mother wants to be supportive and a part of our lives. Now, my MIL is just a phenomenal woman. She knows what I've been through, and she's seen the cuts, bruises and trauma I've been subjected to, and still she advised me to give my mother a chance so I could at least say that I'd tried. So, I did. Lord knows, I tried everything. I hated my mother during my teenage years because I didn't understand what was going on, but as I've grown older I've understood her story (abusive childhood) and experienced mental health myself, so I get that it's not all her fault. Believe me, I get it.
So, we had an engagement party. She called and said her family had asked if they were invited, so I said sure, why not? This involved her mother, brothers, sisters and their children.. dozens of them. I had some of them messaging me in the run up to the party, telling me they couldn't wait to see us etc., and I felt good about that. Then none of them came. Not a single one.
A family member passed away and my (then) fiancé and I went to the funeral. None of my mother's family even knew his name. My mother's mother then asked when she would be getting her invitation to our wedding, which was in 5 months time, at that time. My mother sat there all 'yeah, when is she getting her invite?'. We talked privately about how I had already made it clear that as none of them had bothered, and didn't even know my husband-to-be's name still, they weren't invited. Case closed.
I got married last year and initially I didn't want my mother there, but things seemed okay for a while, she promised me she wasn't using drugs of any kind anymore, and it felt nice to have some sort of not-negative (I wouldn't exactly say positive) relationship with her. The day after my wedding, she put up a post on social media. Whilst on my honeymoon, one of her brothers went on a rampage on it. Called me out for being a disgusting being, that my mother's mother had a 'right' to be at her granddaughter's wedding. I got called everything you can thing of, from A to Z, to C**T in messages from him, where he also told me that should he ever see me again, I'd be physically assaulted. He blocked me before I even had a chance to defend myself. I called my mother up and asked her to remove the post. She told me that it was my wedding, I was right to choose who I wanted there etc., but refused to remove the post. She then told me that she's got cancer but didn't want to ruin my wedding, which is why she hadn't told me before.
I got a job at the local hospital just after we returned from our honeymoon. Now, we're a year past our wedding. My mother only calls to ask 'have you lost any weight yet?' Or 'are you pregnant yet? I can't wait for you to have a baby, he'll be nanny's boy', or to ask me to chase up appointments/doctors for her cancer. Other than that, she doesn't answer my calls or tell me anything. She doesn't want me at appointments, but wants me to get her them. However, she calls my sister and tells her everything, whilst also telling her that she's not allowed to tell me anything. She asks my sister to go with her (knowing that she can't due to personal reasons).
A couple of weeks back, I had a random, completely unexpected phonecall from her on a Tuesday night, when my husband was at work, where she decided to outright tell me that I was a horrible person as a child, and that she hopes my child doesn't turn out like I did. I don't know what I did, either then or now, to deserve that, but I put the phone down and cried for hours. I couldn't even tell my husband when he returned home.
She called again a couple of days later, and asked if she had bought me a gift when I started university. I said no and asked why. She said she wanted to get my sister a gift as she'd just started university. It upset me that I got a black eye and a load of abuse for going, yet my sister gets flowers and gifts. But, hey ho.
The day before our anniversary, she put up another post on social media- with my wedding photos- and noticed there was a comment on the post, but I couldn't see it. Now, I know it's a complete invasion of privacy, but my mother told me her password for social media because she needed help with it at one point. I logged in, as her, and saw that it was her brother- the one who threatened me last year. He'd put laughing faces all over the post, which I don't understand as I don't get what he'd be getting out of that, but whatever. I thought I'd check in her messages to see if she'd said anything to him- again, I do get that I crossed a boundary by reading her messages, but I wanted to know if she'd stuck up for me, for once. She hadn't. However, there were a number of messages to one of her sisters, apologising for them not being invited to my wedding- further calling me spoilt, hard work and a couple of other colourful things. I just logged out and cried. And cried again.
I haven't said anything to her. I've already cried too much over everything, and I'm not confrontational so don't know how to approach her to tell her that I've seen everything. On top of that, I'm pretty unwell at the moment. I was rushed to hospital two weeks ago and am finding out in the next few days if I need to have surgery. I had a missed call from my mother just on Saturday, so called her back. No answer. Called her again on Sunday morning- no answer. She called me on Sunday afternoon, and we managed to talk for 16 minutes on the phone. I think that's the most she's managed to talk to me in a year. I told her that I'm unwell and awaiting possible surgery, and she was surprisingly motherly- asking if there's anything she can do to help, that she hopes I'm okay and that she's here if I need her at all. Weirdly, it felt like I had a mother for those 16 minutes and I forgot all about how angry I was with her. My husband and I had food with my MIL and DIL, who asked how my mother is doing- despite how much my mother hates them for being so kind to me, they still concern themselves with her welfare and do what they can to support me building a relationship of some sort with her. It felt so good to be able to say for the first time in over a year, that we'd had a good phonecall that afternoon. It made me feel genuine happiness.
THEN. I'm on some strong painkillers that knock me out, so fell asleep for four hours yesterday afternoon. I woke up to 4 missed calls and a message from her asking if I'm OK. I called her back and apologised and said I'd been sleeping. She laughed and said no, I'm at my friends! I said no, 'I' was sleeping? She then asked why I'd called her in the morning and I said I hadn't. She said she had a missed call, and I said that I'd called her the previous morning. She asked why, and I reminded her that we'd spoke that afternoon. She didn't remember. None of it.
I had a phonecall from my sister this evening, who told me my mother had given her permission to use her social media (my sister doesn't have it) to contact my mother's friend about a furniture sale. She said she opened their messages and saw my mother has been taking drugs with this woman, which is the friend she was with during our 16 minute call. Turns out, she was high and that's why she couldn't remember our phonecall. Chances are that she was high when I got that horrid phonecall the other week, too.
I'm so, so incredibly angry. After everything, the fact that she couldn't remember that phonecall is the one thing that's pushed me over the edge, which makes me feel so utterly pathetic. I have so much pent up anger that I feel like I need to just let it all out at her. But if I were to do that, as always I'd be the 'spoilt, horrible bitch' that I'm constantly made out to be by her and her family. Honestly, I don't even know why I'm posting this here.. I guess I just needed somewhere to put it all before I break down.