Distance and space are helping me reframe the nature and mechanics of my relationship with my mum, with some startling realisations.
It's a delicate process, as mulling over the detail can reopen the door to the pain of all the unresolved feelings in the face of someone who can only shut you down. So you have to tread with caution. But if you sidestep the exhaustion from begging to be heard, the overall picture is revealed.
Put simply: my mum could have been kinder. She could have tuned in to my requests, which weren't outlandish, and shown interest in helping my future too. She had it in her power to exercise that choice, and to play a part in what lay ahead as well. But when given the option, time and again with as much calmness as I could muster in escalating circumstances, she stonewalled me and threw up barriers and actively chose the route that led to a future without me. That outcome was of her making - just like the acts of emotional abuse through my childhood were too. This impact is not up for debate, least of all from the person who caused it, repeatedly, then denied it, while trying to recast me as the villain for bringing it up.
But then again, it could never have been any different, purely due to her involvement. Relationships with people with narcissistic traits aren't balanced. And they're often pathologically unable to accept not getting their way.
So as the dust settles, what remains is an unblinkered view of a toxic relationship. Ironically, recounting narcissistic abuse can make you sound melodramatic, when it's what happened that was extreme, not the retelling of it.