I stopped answering my mom's calls. I should've done that 17 years ago when I moved out. But I allowed that bitch to keep a leash on me, allowed her to manipulate my emotions long-distance, allowed her to torture me, in the ill-fated hope of our relationship getting better.

I remember wishing she was dead when I was 14. That's how bad it was. And that wish never really went away, but I pushed it down, thinking that's not a normal thought! Kids are supposed to love their parents! Kids aren't supposed to wish their parents were dead! But I did, and I still do even 24 years later. It's that bad!

I allowed her to brainwash me (gaslight is the new hip term), that all my problems must be something I'm doing...  And in a way she was right! The wrong thing I was doing was trying to appease her by maintaining a relationship with her when I should have written her off the day I moved out.

This motherless modus is new for me

I hate my fuckin mom for how much she has controlled me. Despite trying to break away, I was never really successful. Now that I'm in my midlife (38 but close enough), I can't even fake it anymore. I hate her and I won't entertain her manipulations anymore.

Too little, too late? My nervous and unsure personality is well established and is a direct result of her. But maybe I still have a chance left to get something good out of life, to break out of the fucking mold I've been stuck in and be a new person.

Dad died about 6 years ago. He was also depressed and anxious and the same kind of fucked up that I'm heading to, and I think she was such a controlling maniacal bitch she created or exacerbated his problems. And always had a way to make it sound like she had the purest intentions. However, she now freely talks about how happy she is that he's dead.

I'll be even happier when she kicks off. Good fuckin' riddance, you old evil bitch. I never want to interact with you again. I don't want to go to your funeral. You have successfully expelled me from the family, a family that was ALWAYS dysfunctional and shouldn't ever have been a family. I am glad to be free of you.

If I had cut her off 17 years ago when I moved out, I think I would've had a shot at being a normal person. Has anyone else been successful at having a fresh start in their late thirties? Turning around the disaster that was their entire life and actually not being a hateful/hated/anxious/depressed bastard anymore?