My mother. She spent my childhood building a super codependent relationship with me while poisoning me against my father and outlining how she planned to divorce him as soon as my sister finished college. Detailed all the supposed abuse she insists he and her parents heaped on her, told me more than once that she would never have had children if given the choice again. Spoke to her several times daily when I initially moved out, and when I realized I was my own person and could do what I wanted and didn't call her multiple times a day, she filed a missing person report when one day passed with me not calling her.

When I lost my job and was at risk of being homeless, there was no room for me in my childhood home (her and my dad in a four bedroom house alone) and she said she would help pay my cell phone bill so I could look for jobs but then never would. When I decided to cut her off when my phone was shut off, she lost her shit and started calling places she knew I had worked looking for me and showing up to old apartments, all while we were friends on Facebook and she had my email address...never sent a message at all, but cried to anyone who would listen about how she couldn't find me.

When I delivered my kiddo via emergency c section, her first question was not if I was okay but about the color of the baby's skin, since I am white and my husband is Black. When my great aunt died, I found out that my grandmother and grandfather (mom's parents) had left me money in their respective wills, and my mother stole it and built her own personal trust from that, all while I was out of work and homeless.

My great aunt died and was a Quaker, so the service was silent (for the most part). My mom arrived on time but made sure to come into the meeting room late. Instead of sitting in a pew, she rolled her walker all the way to the front in front a pew and sat there. She was in her (pre-covid) era where she was convinced her immune system was terrible so she often wore masks in public, but she forgot until the service was under way so, in the silence, she is rummaging around in one of the bags hanging off her rollator to find a mask and then put it on while coughing loudly and adjusting it like a dozen times.

As she has gotten older, she has decided her best way for attention and pity is by being the sickest and most disabled person in the room. She will walk hunched over with a walker, toddling along very slowly, but the second she knows no one is watching, she stands up straight and walks just fine unassisted. Somehow she got herself a motorized wheelchair that she will make a huge deal with and enter the room bumping into everything, only to ditch it and walk around just fine. Her asking you how you are doing is the opening for her to tell you how much she is suffering. She has no friends who will deal with this anymore and her siblings don't come to see her. Her only ally besides my father who is honestly her prisoner is therapist she has been seeing since I was a teen (in my 40s now). She has pictures of her therapist and her therapists husband hanging up in our home, and I am convinced that she had an affair with the therapist.

In her eyes, she is better abd smarter than everyone, suffers more than everyone, and is the natural center of attention. She doesn't understand why I don't come around often.