More Like My Mum Then I'd Like To Admit.

It's weird to think when you grow older about how your parents are change.. My relationship with my parent's, although more my Mum when I was young and pretty much until I left home at 17 was pretty shit, all we did was argue! There was nothing we could agree on.. curfew, meal times and whether I would actually eat it or not.. many problems that ended up blown way out of proportion by to extreme clashing personalities. She kicked me out of the house millions of times, hit me occasionally and seemed to take great joy in refusing me time with the family when she felt I didn't deserve it. Both of us stubborn, opinionated and determined to have the last word was never going to be a positive interaction. In calmer moments we spoke briefly, and my Mum always told me that it was the same between her and her Mum and that it improved once she moved out.. be that as it may be, I can often remember thinking so why can't we have a good relationship now? Being told at most ages between 9 and 17 that I would have to wait till I left home to have the relationship I wanted with my Mum hurt beyond hell. I couldn't understand at the time why it just never worked but looking back in hindsight I understand we were too similar to be able to work through things we disagreed on; plus as a 14 year old who feels like they know it all when in fact they don't, feels like their parent is only refusing them for the pure sake of being able to and the fact there was plenty of things I hadn't told them, having secrets made it so much easier to allow myself others. I'm not saying things were perfect when I left home by any means.. my Mum seemed to forget that now I wasn't living in 'her house' that I didn't have to live by 'her rules' and for months and months she continued to try and control the life I was having without her.. but then, when hospitalized and I phoned my Mum to ask her to help me; she was there. When I lived at home I had never asked my Mum or anyone in my family to help me and I think it became a turning point. She realized that I was growing up and that she couldn't control me anymore and I realized that she did genuinely care but struggled to show it and it was only because I wasn't still living at home that I came to recognize that they went out of their way to help me when they didn't have to. My Mum has always struggled with showing her emotions [other than anger] and I never knew, and always doubted growing up, that she loved me. The first time I can remember her actually saying it was about a year after I moved out of home, I was 18 and for the first time my Mum told me she loved me. Last year my Mum suffered a cardiac arrest, she was on life-support to the highest level they could provide and spoke of turning the machines off. Supporting my sisters and we all were meant to say our last goodbyes but two of them walked out after seeing Mum hooked up to all the wires and machinery. I refused to say goodbye. I told her I was sorry for not being who she wanted me to be and that I fully expected her to wake up for us because we all needed her and who else would keep the girls in line. We were given another 4 hours - regarding if no improvement the machines will be turned off because my Dad did not realize that his permission wasn't required and he broke down. About 10 minutes before the 4 hours were up my Mum's kidneys started trying to work for themselves, this is the kind of thing we needed; we got more time. Mum survived. She came out of her coma within a couple of weeks but in essence, she was not Mum. Brain-damaged and due to her ICD implant she was unable to have an MRI scan to assess the severity of the damage. She also woke up not knowing who anyone was - other than her Mum and my Dad sort of, although she kindly remarked on his 'sudden weight gain' She had no knowledge of us, her children.. She woke up and was as far as she was concerned - young, free and single :) When in fact she was almost 40, had been married for nearly 20 years and had 4 children. Once she was well enough, and they felt her heart was stable enough, she was moved to a rehabilitation centre. She was away from home for just over 7 months. Within that time, me and one of my other sisters had pretty much maintained things at home.. some things were struggling.. boundaries became blurred as the 'kids' of the house did more to look out for each other then the adults because Dad was always at work. When visiting her, me and my Mum seemed to argue all the time, at the rehabilitation she was relearning all the basics, walking, talking, washing and dressing herself etc.. they were also working on trying to improve her memory. We argued to the point that my Dad often told me not to go with them the next time they went. During this time my own mood swings seemed to be becoming worse but I mentioned it to no-one because Mum was more important and no-body else needed the stress on top of what was already there. We also found out that my Mum had been sexually abused by her father when she was young, with my own experiences in the matter, all of her distance and inability to show love for me made sense. However Mum who had not remembered this became understandably distressed and my Dad was ready to kill my uncle [theoretically] After being told she was depressed, and refusing medication for it, everyone worried even more.. she talked off killing herself, and although it was unlikely because she couldn't walk properly, hold her own weight or have access to any medication it hurt to know what she was thinking of, however I remember her being like this when we were growing up.. on and off, depression and anger, but alongside the anger lots of cleaning and singing.. Recognizing so much of her in me is scary. I wouldn't say I have the anger, I used to, when I was younger I was angry, so angry all the time, with everyone and everything - but the cleaning and the singing is most definitely there. When I was a teen I always thought there was something 'mentally' wrong with her but being the way she is, she would refuse contact with services and deny any problems until she was blue in the face. Always amazing with her facade was my mother. My Mum was always the strong one for the family.. she held everything together.. nothing went amiss and everything was in it's place.. that is partly why I feel we clashed. We are both control-freaks.. the difference being I intensely try to control myself and she intensely tries to control other people and herself. I love her, and the way she is now means we often get along a lot better than we did before she was ill.. however I often catch myself thinking that this just isn't my Mum. I don't want someone to argue with, but I want the person who has all the memories of my childhood, my life, her life.. I want the only person that I can resolve a lot of the questions in my head with.. Did she really not notice anything was going on when I was being abused? Did she really hate me? Why tell me she regretted me if she never meant it? Why was I never good enough and always the big disappointment to her? Why couldn't you tell me you loved me? Why did you have an affair? Many and plenty in between but I will never know these answers now, because the Mum I've got left, doesn't remember any of it.