Displaced anger?

I'm one hostile bitch some days since my mom left her body. You might ask me for a glass of water and I scream, " NO!" Then other days I will feed you breakfast in bed. These past 2 years have been tough. I no longer have the screaming sweating nightmares of my mom gasping for breath and dying. I still dream About her but now she is annoying the fuck out of me. I've yelled at her in my dreams, told her to be quiet. At one point in my dream I realized my mom was with my grandma and I said, " aren't you both dead? You can't tell me what to do anymore." I don't know why but on that dream I woke up laughing hysterically and it woke my husband up. I guess telling her off felt so good I laughed about it. 

My mom was not easy. Not even close to being easy. She was demanding, rude, and spitefully passive aggressive mean bitchy Queen. She would lie to my father to make me sound worse than I was. He would never believe me because I was the one in trouble and the child and I had a mouth on me to boot. By all accounts I should have been relieved she died. In fact, during my Women Within weekend my work revolved around her. It took 4 to 5 women to keep me from killing the woman acting like my mom. I lost it and I remember seeing the fear in the woman's eyes that was playing good ol' mom. 

Today I realized one of those times I was angry but I felt helpless to do anything about it. My 20th wedding anniversary is around the corner ( I was promised a fabulous trip but that's not happening, different story). This anniversary reminded of when my folks had their 25th. I was 23, I had a 2 year old, and lived in Florida and it was October. A far cry from my folks in Cleveland, Mo. My mother called me to rail against me for not throwing her a party. I was an ungrateful brat, uncaring, selfish, blah blah blah. Her friends girls threw them a big party for their 25th. That is what I endured. A crazy bitchy shadow-living nut case that made me look like the bad guy all the fucking time to my dad. 

Her friend's girls had help plus the key word here was "girls" plural. I am an only child. They also had aunts and uncles that gave a shit. I didn't even get a baby shower and I was food stamp poor and I asked  for one. Like those people were going to help me throw my mom a party. Then there is the part about money; I had none, I lived in Florida, and had a toddler. HELLO, Earth to mother! Plus one of those girls were older than me and the other was closer to my age and they were LOCAL. 

What was I suppose to do? I was struggling to feed the dog my dad bought me, the kid I was raising, and was in the red every single month. She laid that guilt n heavy and thick. When I got angry she told my dad bullshit and he called me to tell me to be nice to my mother, blah blah blah. I heard it before. I was now the bad guy from looney Larry's outburst that she conveniently made sure was done in private. This was my childhood, by the way. It only got worse when I moved away. She saved up her daily snide remarks for cruel emails and hateful phone calls from work where my dad couldn't hear or see what she said. She would then print my angry reply to show him how cruel I was.

I digress, sorry, anyhow I was thinking about this today. I think I'm angry with her. I seriously angry. She was an evil bitch that played the sweet loving part. She laughed all the time and was simple a vile evil mouthed woman that preyed on my happiness. 

I knew she was dying even before she got sick. I told my husband this because she kept asking me if I thought she was a good mother. Guilt of her terrible controlling and manipulating ways were haunting her. I would get off the phone reassuring her she was a good mom and look and my husband and say, "she is dying and trying to make amends for being such an ass." 

I tried telling my dad once and I saw it was too painful for him to realize the woman he thought he was married too wasn't what she said she was. He knew I was telling the truth. I could see it in his eyes but he played her part anyways. Now I think it was because he didn't know what to do. 

I not sure how to heal from this but at least from this point on I know I am angry still at my mom.

She played head games with me. She was deceitful. She WAS the brat. She was rude. Up until her last breath she never once said sorry, never once told us she was dying, she never once told up she had emphysema. She even got mad at me because I would bring her cookies and chocolate to a raging diabetic in the hospital. This was when they were trying to get her better. She wanted to go and she went down in a  full spectacular show. It was terrible and I was alone to see. I alone keep the secret from my dad what she was really like. Again I'm left with the thoughts, "how dare you!"