Yes, I can relate to this thread too.
My mother, now aged 85, is difficult.
She has numerous health problems, none of them life-threatening, but she has been complaining about them for the last forty years!
That is basically all she talks about, except when she decides to stick the knife into one of her existing acquaintances or dead relations (mainly in-laws).
I understood that she didn't have a particularly great life, but she seems to resent the fact that I do. She doesn't criticise me openly, but it always seems to be there underneath. She likes my husband, adores my children, but simply does not like me.
To make it worse, she will never admit that - in fact, she will never admit anything that would make her look less than perfect - she has always been like that.
Of course, now I am the primary carer - I see her at least twice a week; my daughters hardly ever, and they will not visit her at all unless I am there. But they are excused on the grounds that they live further away. They never 'phone her either, and I don't blame them. I think that maybe their time with elderly parents will come, and in the meantime, they should enjoy their own families. But still, mother has the best granddaughters in the world, according to her.
When I was small, she always worked, and my grandmother (hardly a cuddly type!) looked after me. Mother told me that they did not have any more children because my grandmother said she would not look after them. So I am an only child. I wish I had a sibling to take some of the responsibility/blame or whatever.
To cap it all, we seem to have virtually nothing in common. I have always been interested in the world outside; local and national politics and so on. My mother has never been interested in anything outside her own narrow circle and "what the neighbours think". That meant that she hardly ever supported me when I was growing up and getting myself into trouble from time to time.
Yet now, I am supposed to be paying her back for all the care I had from her, and she frequently compares me to her friends' children, who all take far more care and pay far more attention to their mothers than I do - apparently.
I have a lovely life apart from this, but the situation does get me down sometimes, to the extent of needing anti-depressants to recover.