So many things.
Dropped me off to be raped so she could have some me time before I was even old enough for nursery.
Told everyone she knew in the entire world (literally rang people in Australia, all over Europe and the US to tell them as well as people in the UK) that I intentionally set a trap for my brother, causing him to trip over my foot and hit his head on the edge of some tiles in the kitchen which gave him a scar that needed stitches which is still visible 40+ years later.
I was miles away when it happened and I wasn't even ten years old.
At the same time, she was telling me that if a girl starts to bleed from between her legs it means she has made a pact with the Devil and would be going to hell.
Then there was the time she told a Life group I'd had an abortion.
I think I was about twelve then and hadn't even so much as held hands with a boy.
She didn't work for most of her life.
When I had a car accident and couldn't walk, she would leave me alone on the top floor of the house (it had 3 stories) without even a glass of water all day unless someone else was home.
No food, nothing to drink, no way to get to the bathroom for the first couple of months, nobody to change my bandages and dressings.
I had to learn to crawl to the bathroom.
I would lie there in agony, smelling food I had no way of reaching as it was 2 floors down.
Once my dad got home in the evening, she'd suddenly be popping up the stairs offering me a cup of coffee very loudly, bringing me food and spitting on it in front of me when nobody else could see.
As soon as it was just us (most of the time), back to nothing.
I was supposed to have been taken to therapy to learn to walk again, but she didn't do it.
Guess they didn't check up much in the 80s as nobody seemed to notice or care.
By 16/17, she was telling everyone, from family, parents of any child she thought was friendly towards me, even the milkman, the binmen and the Parish Priest that I was working as a prostitute on the weekends.
I was a virgin.
A guy wrote to her to ask for permission to propose to me.
She told him I was prostitute too and to pick someone else.
She sent one of my uncles around to the house I was living in when I was nearly 18 who dragged me out by the neck and took me to see a psychiatrist as she decided (no idea why) that I needed to be committed.
The psychiatrist told her my only problem was her and wanted to know why I had handprints around my neck (bruises didn't go away for weeks) and I was let go with no explanation of what me living in a shared house hundreds of miles away from her working in credit control had to do with being crazy.
She tried to get him struck off because he told her that she needed therapy and that he would refuse to treat her.
My oldest sons father died and I ended up having to live with my parents for a while after when my son was a year old or so.
I needed a job because of course I had to pay my way and she insisted I pay her for childcare.
She kept going into the local city centre, buying the most expensive versions of things like toys, baby clothes, pushchairs, a cot bed, a playpen, high chair then billing me, so I ended up having to sell stuff as she was charging me more than I earned in a decent paying job.
Then she began phoning me at work, screaming at me, lying and saying my child had been injured or was dead, telling me I'd destroyed her life and so on.
I was a wreck mentally.
Then, after a few months of that she contacted Social Services and told them I wanted to put my son up for adoption and making appointments for them to come out.
She sat there, a glass of whisky in hand (she drank a lot of whisky), telling them bollocks and they believed her.
I'd arrive back from work on more than one occasion to find Social Services there telling me that I asked for them and shoving paperwork under my nose to sign him over for adoption.
Eventually I cracked because I couldn't see any other way to get him away from her (I wasn't able to find accommodation for us) so I signed him away, telling them that it was the only way I could help him by getting him away from her as she was so toxic.
They didn't listen to me, she was way too convincing.
It broke me, I ended up homeless and suicidal and I have never got over it.
There was so much more manipulation and torture to it than that, but I was not even 20 years old and far too naïve.
I'd spent my life being told it was always me in the wrong and I still believed it.
But guess what, it was all part of her cunning plan.
She had decided that her own son was defective so she wanted mine as a do over.
She thought that she would get paid as a foster carer and that it was loads of money.
She did manage to get him placed with her after I'd left, but they didn't pay her anything and she resented it for the rest of her life.
When I found out she had him a few years later, I went back and she had destroyed him.
She'd fed him laxatives every day for years telling him he was constipated and he had no bowel control.
Once I was gone, she treated him like scum, always telling him he was rubbish that I had thrown away.
I got him away from her, taught him to brush his teeth, educated him, helped him fix his bowel issues but he was so broken he insisted on going back to her when he was a teenager.
She taught him to hate me and she told him it was all my idea to 'get rid of him'.
She cost me my childhood, my sanity and my oldest son.
Years later my ex asked my parents permission to marry me and she actually said "Why buy the cow when you have the milk for free?" to him.
My ex was so offended he wouldn't let her in the house.
She kept phoning up to ask if we were married yet because she didn't want to be financially responsible for paying my funeral costs (not sure why she thought I'd die before her).
She died a couple of months ago and I got a copy of her will last week.
She has left me a picture which she used to tell me was proof I was not part of 'her family' as she has written everyone elses name on the back (according to her God deletes my name if she puts it on there) and the rest of her very substantial estate goes to literally anyone but me.
Her will has been written in such a way that even if every other member of my family dies except me and my youngest son, it goes to a Catholic charity.
It says in her will that 'in the interests of fairness' I was given a fair share of her estate in 2023.
Everyone else is getting 5 bed houses (each), plus stocks and shares, cash, trust funds etc..
Even my nieces and nephew are getting several thousand in cash.
My youngest son is getting nothing too (he's only 15), presumably because he lives with me.
I got £3000 paid in with no explanation at the time just a tax year reference (she didn't speak to me from the day my father died in 2022, moved house, changed phone number, gave me no details so I couldn't have spoken to her even if I wanted to).
Guess that was my inheritance.
My sister has told everyone she can't understand why I wouldn't show up in black and mourn her because she has rewritten my mothers life as that of a saint.
My extended Irish family probably think I am awful for not being there.
I haven't seen any of them for over 20 years and they know absolutely nothing about my life unless it's rubbish made up by my mother.
As far as I'm concerned, they left me in a highly abusive situation and they can all fuck off and die.
Of the lot of them, only my Auntie Phil ever cared about me and she died many many years ago.
There is so much more, it's all a jumble and I keep remembering more random bits.
But I think she definitely qualifies as batshit crazy.