Oh, man, it's sort of a long one, and the roots go back a long way, but if you're interested, I'll share.
Things started going wrong when my parents got divorced and my dad moved out. He was a workaholic and since we didn't live together anymore, I didn't seem much of him. Haven't had any contact with him for years now, but he wasn't much of a presence even before his new wife forbade him from speaking to everyone he knew before he married her.
So my sibling and I lived with my mom. She couldn't afford the mortgage on the home she and my dad bought together, so we started renting a home from a relative, which was fine at first.
Then, when I was a teenager, my mom had several close family members and friends who passed away in a short period of time, and she had a really hard time handling it. Understandable, right? That kind of loss would be hard for anyone to take. I think it broke her, though. She lost her job, started drinking heavily and abusing pain medication, and began accumulating cats, dogs, and random possessions that would soon become a hoard.
The house became, in a word, disgusting. It's impossible to thoroughly clean up after that many animals, and the basement was crammed floor-to-ceiling with moldering furniture, unwearable clothing, and other debris. She didn't see the problem.
It was also during this time that she ruined her credit. She would help herself to my sibling's and my bank accounts from time to time when things got tight. That money must have been supporting her habit of buying "valuable antiques" and shit from Walmart, though, because she almost never paid rent and the utilities were regularly shut off for nonpayment. She didn't seem to see the problem with this, either. It upset me, but I was young and she was my parent. It didn't occur to me that I could tell her to stop.
I would find out later that she opened credit cards in my sibling's name, the home-owning relative's name, and my name. She also stole a credit card from a boyfriend and ran up thousands of dollars in charges before he realized what had happened. She was careful to do these things to people close to her, people who wouldn't report her for fraud and theft.
Eventually, my sibling and I grew up and moved out. The house got worse. The relative who owned it finally kicked my mother out. It took over a month and two huge dumpsters to clean out her hoard. After trying and failing to find homes for them, I took at least a dozen cats and kittens to the shelter. Mom, her dogs, and a few remaining cats moved to a new house. Again, it's hard to keep a home clean with that many pets, but she was doing a better job in this new place. She was working full-time and generally seemed to be doing better.
She had also gotten into a relationship, which I could see was a bit volatile, but the two of them seemed happy and in love. They planned to move out of state together.
By this time, I was married. My spouse and I were having a hard time financially, and our only real option was to stay with my mother for a while. We came up with a plan: when Mom and her dude moved away, my spouse and I would move into his house. We would pay a very reasonable amount in rent with the option to buy later. In the meantime, we'd chip in for bills at Mom's. Perfect!
Until Mom and this guy started having problems, and she lost the plot. They split up right as my spouse and I were moving into the new house. Fortunately, we were still on good terms with him.
But my mother had ceased functioning, again. She was unemployed, again. Stopped paying rent and got evicted, again. We moved her in with us, which was an ordeal. She fought us the whole way. Barricaded doors, refused to help us pack, accused me of mistreating her when I put limits on how much of her stuff she could bring into the new house.
The next few months were ugly. She was drinking. Money went missing. There were arguments over her dogs making messes in the house. I tried to get her to see a therapist. She told her friend that I was being cruel to her, and her friend started sending me harassing texts. It took a serious toll on me, and on my marriage (which, to be fair, had problems on its own).
Mom finally agreed to go to therapy and claimed to be getting better. She spent all of her time watching TV and smoking, though, and eventually I lost my patience. I asked her to work towards moving out and told her I would help her. I explained that I needed space to work on my marriage, that I had to take care of that and couldn't take care of her. She agreed, and proceeded to do nothing. I asked again. Nothing. Again. More of the same.
This went on for months, and I got desperate. I tried to kick her out. She threatened to get a lawyer involved (an empty threat, but dramatic nonetheless).
Things were unbearably tense for a while. My spouse and I called it quits, and we signed leases on separate apartments. My mother stayed by herself in the house that was supposed to belong to us. I was just relieved to be done with it. As far as I know, she still lives there.
I'd transferred my utility accounts to my new address since, obviously, I needed them there. I warned my mom a couple of weeks before I did this so she could make arrangements at the house.
She texted me at work the day after I moved out to ask me to have her water and electricity turned on in my name (she naturally owed the companies money from previous residences). It seems like a relatively minor incident, but that was the moment I decided to cut off contact with her. I'd thought about doing it before, but in that moment, something snapped. I thought, "I don't have to deal with this. I'm not responsible for this." I told her no, and that I wouldn't be speaking to her anymore.
For a while I felt guilty about that decision. Yes, my mother has emotional problems. No, she's not responsible for my divorce. Is it really fair to punish her? But I realized, I'm not punishing her. The decision wasn't about her; it was about me. My relationship with her caused me grief, and I don't have room for that.
Moral of the story: everyone has the right to set boundaries. It took me a long time to learn that.
Jesus, sorry that was so long.
TL;DR My mom's not stable, and things got fucked up. I don't talk to her anymore.