My story (extracts) goes back many decades ago ...
I did not grow up with my mother and father. They divorced when I was almost 3 and we went to live with my father. I only saw my mother during school holidays. The two were constantly at loggerheads over us and all I wanted to do was be with my mother. Due to my father's work, my brother and I were moved from one brother/sister of my father, depending on how things developed. Growing up I had very little interaction with my mom. As a teenager I 'demanded' to go and live with my mother who, in the meantime, had remarried and had two children. I spent my last two years of senior school living with them. I got married shortly after leaving school and then had even less interaction with my mother. After my second husband commited suicide , I invited her to come and live with me and my two younger kids (she had divorced by then) so that I could help take care of her. My two eldest kids were with my first husband. My mother refused, accusing me that I just wanted her to come and live with me so that she can become my babysitter. I was extremely hurt but said nothing. She ended up becoming the baby sitter to my younger sister and her husband. Despite this, I still loved and cared deeply for her. I never held this against my sister as she was unaware of what had transpired between me and my mother. When I eventually remarried for the third time, I left South Africa with my new husband to work in the Middle-East.
We eventually settled in Australia and I brough my mom out for her 80th birthday. Despite everything that had transpired in our past, I still loved and cared for her. As she got older, I arranged with my siblings to take care of her and a year ago we got a live-in carer. In the past 6-months her health really deteriorated fast. As I did not want my sister and niece to be the two to discover my mom should she pass during the night, I, again, arranged with my siblings to have her rehomed into a frail care facility. She moved in on Monday and passed on Tuesday.
I am really struggling to accept this and come to terms with her passing. I cannot understand why as she wasn't ever there for me when I needed her. I, in turn, tried to be there for her. I'm also concerned for the mental wellbeing of my siser and niece - they are both bipolar.
I am already on anti-depression and anxiety tablets yet have this anxious, dead, dull feeling inside me. Why?
