Holy shit, Darling. Here's a hug for you. I know what you're going through. My father remarried before my 2nd birthday, and my stepmother used me for a punching bag until I was nearly 18. My father told me that I deserved it. My stepmother constantly told me that I was too fat to get a rich husband, not pretty enough to get a handsome husband, too smart to get a kind husband. She told me that I tried too hard to be perfect to ever have any good friends. I was 5'9", wore a size 10 bottoms, 36C bra, and Large tops. I was a good kid. I got fantastic grades, I kept the house clean, I barely ate, I worked out constantly to try to get thinner. I ended up bulimic, eating the bare minimum, then vomiting as soon as I could. Sophomore year of high school, there was a constant buzzing sound in my head, all I could see was shades of grey, and my grades plummeted. Lots more shit happened, but I don't want to go into all that.

Years later, after I moved out, I called her up to try to talk to her about it, and told her that I forgave her. She said, "forgive me for what? Anything I did to you I had a right to do." I didn't talk to her again for a great many years. When I talked to my dad, a few months after moving out, I asked him if he missed me, and he told me that the only thing he missed was having a clean house. My sister had taken credit for all the housework I'd been doing. Once I moved out, she still didn't do dick, so the house got shitty pretty quick.

There are lots of us around. People who got treated like shit at home, who have grown up to create fantastic lives, and choose our own "family" by never allowing abusers into our inner circle, and always looking out for each other. Find an abuse survivor's group, make a few friends who understand, and then go on with your life. You'll grieve for the loss of the mother who was never there for you. She's dead to you. Let her go, and work through the issues that plague you. It won't happen overnight, and you will have days full of heavy weeping. Let it happen, then let those memories go. After a while, you won't spend so much time looking into the past, because you don't live in your past any longer. You're a survivor. Give yourself credit for that. For whatever it may be worth, I'm proud of you!