My relationship with my mother is terrible. I can't even begin to describe the pain I feel about everything that has happened and hasn't happened to me with her. I have a very beautiful idea of what it means to be a mother, but it's nowhere near what my mother is like. This causes me real pain in my heart, makes me want to throw up, and makes me feel that any happiness I've ever had is meaningless because I've never had that kind of mother. Sometimes I feel that this kind mother, who doesn't yell or hit, and doesn't regret having children, isn't real, that she's just a figment of my imagination. Because if someone else has a mother like that without any effort, why don't I? What did I do wrong? I like to believe she doesn't exist because it's taking such a painful turn that it's even affecting my faith and beliefs.