Purpose of Blog

I am new to this.  I was inspired by another blogger to finally tell my story.  But I struggle.  I have been anxious and tense for days.  My heart has palpitated uncontrollable.  My hands shake and I have generalized anxiety even signing up for the blog.  All because I'm afraid to write about my mother.  I'm afraid she'll find this.  I'm afraid she'll be angry.  She will turn it on me and make me feel horrible about it.  But I have to purge these things.  I have to tell my stories.  I have to get rid of them banging around in my head, so I can move on.  I need to let them go so that I can be a better wife, mother, and person.
My parents divorced when I was a teenager.  I have one sister and two step-parents.  My relationship with most of them is...difficult.  But it is my mother who causes the most chaos in my life.  Over the past years, I have become aware of the reality that is my mother.  And as I have started my own family, once blurry ideas have come into sharper focus.  I seen things through a new lens, a new perspective.  And it has left me on shaky ground.  I feel stronger now, but also terrified.  Seeing the reality of my childhood, my mother, and myself has sent me into a tailspin wondering just who the hell I am.  
I hope that by telling my story, even if it's to myself, I can remove myself and move on.  Send it to God with a prayer for healing.  I don't wish to cut my mother out of my life.  There are moments I enjoy with my mom.  In reading on narcissism, I don't believe my mom to be on the far end of the spectrum.  I do believe she loves me and wants what is best for me.  But I think she loves herself and wants what's best for herself more.  I think she is so all consumed in herself that she can't see me.  I think she truly believes she is a wonderful, caring, giving mother who does all for her children and gets nothing in return.  I think she is sick and wounded.  She has reason to have issues.  But she takes it out on me (and other's around her).  In her obsessive desire to be the center of the universe, no one is immune to being sacrificed.  She is an addict, who will do anything to fill her self up with admiration, love and attention.
So, I need to write these stories to let go.  To mourn and release the idea that my mom will ever be that nurturing, supportive mom I so needed.  To see it all in black and white, so that when she is around she no longer controls, and manipulates me and makes me feel so small.
This blog will most likely be rambling.  No rhyme or reason.  I often am too analytical, to thoughtful, to guarded.  I want to give myself permission to just let it go.  To purge the stories as they bubble up.  To find myself, and find my strength, so I will no longer be a player in someone else's script.