My mother and I have always had a rocky relationship. I was her youngest, born many years after she thought she was done, and I believe she resented me for it. As a child, I spent many nights fixing my own dinner while she went out with friends. My father traveled a lot for business, and when he was home, we spent more "family time" together, but it always felt tense and not particularly nurturing. My father was a fairly good father - affectionate and attentive - when he was there, but his relationship with my mother was strained as well. They separated when I was in sixth grade, and ultimately divorced when I was in high school.
All of this was complicated by the fact that my mother has MS, and two of her primary side effects are depression and paranoia. It's hard to fault someone for being unreasonable when there is an organic cause; at the same time, it's hard to live with someone who is sure that you are always lying to her or trying to manipulate her in some way. It's a Catch-22, and nearly impossible to figure out how to deal with when you're a young kid. Luckily my much-older sister frequently tried to step in; without her, I would have been much worse off. But she lived out of state, so her ability to intervene was limited. I spent summers with her through elementary and middle school, and she would always answer my calls.
It all came to a head when I was 20. I was a college student, but not doing very well, and I had to move home for a semester or two to regroup. Maybe I had forgotten how hard life with my mother was. Or maybe I thought that it would be different since I was now a "grown up." But the reality was that it could not have been worse. We fought constantly, about really stupid things, Again, my sister came to the rescue, this time offering for me to come live with her. She saved my sanity. I lived with her for a little more than a year, and then returned to college in the nearby town, but this time, I was financially responsible for it myself.
From the time I moved, I didn't talk to my mother for more than 4 years. I spent holidays with friends, or sometimes alone. I simply didn't tell my mother that I was there, and I told my sister and father not to tell her either. They complied and understood.
Since then, my mother and I have sort of come to an understanding. We send each other Christmas and birthday cards. I've seen her and talked to her at family events like weddings and graduations. Her MS has been in recession for more than a decade, and although my sister tells me that the neurological damage remains, my mother does seem significantly less neurotic in recent years. Maybe she's on a new med that helps regulate her thought processes. The few times I've been to her house in recent years have been stressful, but mostly because the setting brings up bad memories.