I will most likely delete this post later.

My mum had been an alcoholic ever since I remember, and for most of my life I haven't lived with her, but been juggled around family, so I haven't had a proper home for a long time. Despite this I would still visit her every weekend and most holidays, text and call with her every day, and even borrow the little money I saved when she asked me. I knew giving her money was wrong, but she's always been so nice and polite to everyone despite her lies to fuel her addiction and the kid me always gave in because I felt bad for her and loved her.

I visited my father for summer holidays just before I turned 13, and he ended up adopting me so I was now living with him, step mother and my half brother. My step mum is a manipulative bitch which which will be important in the story. When I was abojt 15, I flew back to my home country for summer holidays and met with my mum despite my step mother telling me I wasn't allowed. I came back, my step mum went through my phone and found my messages, I was then grounded for half a year when she found out. My father never did anything to stop her or protect me from her. I know I should have listened, but since then I was forced to never contact my mum or her side of the family again. I did the mistake of contacting my grandma (mum's mum) and found that my mother was terribly sick because of her alcoholism. My step mother called her a lier after finding out, and since then I had restricted access to my phone or internet.

I reconnected with my mum's side of the family when I was 18, and learned my mother's condition kept getting worse because she kept drinking. I just wanted her to go to rehab, as she had just signed herself out every time she went and it never led anywhere. I stayed in contact with my grandma and she kept giving me updates for my mother, but I haven't talked to her in a long time. In summer of 2022 was the last time I've seen her.

My grandma, mum and I were driving my mother to another rehab facility, and when she got in the car she reached out to touch me, but I flinched back. Not out of malice, but because I was told she was sick, like a cold or something, I can't remember now. I just told her "Hey" and that was it, the rest of the drive was awkward and silent, and I don't know what was stopping me, but I didn't even tell her goodbye or that I'll see her soon.

Fast forward march 2024, I got a call from my crying grandma telling me my mother was dead. Heavy dose of painkillers and alcohol was found in her system. She has been close to dying many times but was always with someone else and hospitalised. This time she died alone, in a house the county(? I'm not sure what's the appropriate term in English) managed to give her due to her homelessness and condition. Mind you no homeless shelter would take her because she kept sneaking alcohol in beforehand.

I can't help but feel our last interaction affected her and I've been ripping my hair out from guilt how I could have done something to prevent it. Before you ask, I have spoke to a therapist, but the guilt clings to me like second skin, I don't think I'll ever move on from that.