My mother was an alcoholic who had, as I believe, narcissistic personality disorder. I had a lot of problems with her. I did not grieve when she died (many years ago).

In recent years, as I came to understand more about where disorders come from, I began to have some compassion for her, and I still do. Even so, the reality is that I have never missed her and I would not want her back in my life. It pains me to say that, but it is the truth.

I wish that I had had a more loving, less disordered mother. At times, I still mourn that which never was.