If ok, will share my experience.

I was best friends with my mum until a few years ago. My father has always been over-powering and a bully and we had a very big row a few years back. I say row, but he just stood over me, purple with rage and told me some nasty things, called me all sorts of names, that I was a waste of space and I deserved nothing nice in life. I asked at the time, without raising my voice or fighting back, to explain what was behind all this and he wouldn't say. To this day he refuses to say, despite asking several times and pleading. As far as I am concerned that this was out of nowhere, but would've been more than willing to put things right if I had known what they were.

My father started to turn my mother too, The only contact we had was with them both putting me down, twisting things, ignoring what I had to say, talking over me and oh, the endless digs. They also tried to punish me with the guilts, finding wonderful ways to make me feel awful.. for example by being the only family member my father did not tell he had cancer. He told me later that he did not tell me was to punish me. WHAT?! I found out by accident. I was not allowed to visit him. Nothing I did was right, even things I did for them before the fight that they loved were now hated etc. Whenever I asked to talk things through with them over the big fight was either ignored or my father nastily saying that if I could not understand what I did wrong then he wasn't going to waste his time.

I am full of flaws, of course I am. I have admitted and tried to change in the past. I never ever set out to hurt them, and to the best of my knowledge I never did. I went out my way to make up for my brothers lack of interest in them and did so many things for them. I drove the 500 mile round trip every 6 weeks to see them where my brothers went about once every 2 years. I thought they were my friends. My brothers who do nothing have the sun shine out of their bums. This is so often the way it seems.

You know what? I just reached the point that despite them being my parents, despite me loving them, I walked away a year ago. I finally understood that I would never hear what I wanted or get what I needed and that was to sit down like grown-ups and sort things out once and for all. It seemed that my father found it more important to be the bully, the victim or however he see's himself with me than to actually talk about it and sort it and have a decent relationship with his only daughter. My mother just gives into her husband rather than have a relationship, so quite frankly, she's just as bad. I find it strange that someone could do that to their own child but although it was so tough, I realised that I could not make him do anything. I love my parents but I do not like them. Blood is not thicker than water and at the end of the day, my life is mine and I have to make it as happy as I possibly can. Sadly they did not want to make our relationship anything by miserable.

The first few months of walking away were tough, so very tough. Some days I still get so very sad. But there's been a little river of calm running underneath it all, and I feel, well, if not happier, certainly more at peace with it. It was ruining me having my parents, my parents who are supposed to love me, dragging me down every day and I thought of very little else. It consumed me.

I can't tell you what to do, if to keep contact with your mum or whatever. But I can tell you that although it is so very hard and probably always be, I feel better. I am responsible for my own happiness and that's what I am doing.