My suspicions are un-officially correct

While on vacation, we stayed with some family of mine. Lots of great times, food, laughter and long talks with wine late into the evening. The last evening brought up the topic of my non existent relationship with my mother. It's been over a year now (and not the first time) since I have seen or spoken to her. I essentially made the decision to cut ties or 'break up' with her out of a need to protect myself and my family. She can be nice, helpful and giving (usually with thick ropes attached). But there have been hundreds if not countless times in my life where she was yelling, screaming, irrational and violent (even to herself). As a child, I knew these fights and episodes weren't normal. While my brother was in the 2nd grade, him and most of the boys in his class were being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder with Hyperactivity- he was prescribed Ritalin. My mother thought she would take one to try it. He was later taken off of it and she took it for the next 10+ years. It was hell. She told her psychiatrist that she liked how she felt on it. I knew early on that adults shouldn't take medicine prescribed for children. It had an adverse reaction. Combine the upper of the Ritalin with coffee and downer of the beer in the evenings, it was a horrible roller coaster. It wasn't until high school, that I noticed a how the beer was playing a clear role in the evening fights she'd pick with myself and my brother. Like others at 18, I found a way to distance myself from her and move out. I have always been cautious, as even though she raised me in a non-conventional way (more on this later). A couple years ago, after I bought my first home, I tried to be cool, she wanted to help so I let her and there were a few good times. I was careful but she kept bringing up conspiracy theories. I'm serious. It was torture. I wanted to explain reason to her, to disspell these things she kept saying were her 'opinions' that she had a right to. These conversations would end in blow out fights. It was too much for me to handle. I felt so many emotions, anger, guilt, sadness. I knew it was out of hand. I walked into my home with my brother to find her in my entryway screaming at my husband who was sitting, holding our dog who looked terrified. I told her it was time to leave.
Fast forward to now and I come home to a letter in my stack of mail received while on vacation and she doesn't know why I have ceased communication. After all she has done for me (uh, raised me? Who else's responsibility was I?). I just can't win.
My aunt said what I had imagined to be true. Schizophrenia. Just like their mother. The hell I experienced as a child and an adult now made more sense. The worse part is she has no idea anything is wrong, and never will. I think this really helps explain my own depression and anxiety. When you try so hard to do things right, play by the rules, save money, get good grades, please your parents, etc, you get exhausted. It's tiring trying to explain yourself constantly so you wonder what the problem is. How can I fix this? What's the solution? Well, time is the solution. Sad to say, but she will pass on and I will be relieved. Relieved of her heartache and my own. Perhaps she is my little black dog.