Before you go to bed, write. Get out what you think you've done "wrong," how you might catch and correct issues before they feel big and overwhelming, or how it makes you feel that you're unsatisfied.
This will help you get the clutter out of your head as you organize your thoughts into language, and help you keep from having it play on an endless loop as you try to sleep.
If you're amenable, ask your dreams to offer you new perspectives, solutions, or even just a cathartic replay of what happened or didn't.
Next morning, or even a few days later, revisit what you wrote, and do more journaling on the issues and feelings.
Sigh. I hear this very deeply. I’m pushing 70; both parents died a few years back.
First, as you likely know, you’ve opened the door, but it’s up to her to walk through it. It may take more time leaving the door open; it may never happen. “It’s not you, it’s her.”
You mention sexual abuse in her past. I’ve lived with that with my current partner for many years. It’s always been a 600-lb gorilla nobody wants to talk about, because what is there to say? I know it can distort relationships in odd ways.
My mother and I also had teen angst issues. And she had other forms of trauma in her youth which informed our issues as mother & daughter. After years very low contact, she broached the issue when I was in my 50s, and she was mid-80s. But she did so in a place or at a time where honest, open discussion was impossible—in a very public venue, or at a time when we needed to leave for another obligation. So she both wanted to get it off her chest, and really didn’t want a discussion she couldn’t control completely.
By that point, I realized she’d done her best as a mother, and it wouldn’t benefit either of us to have her Go to Glory feeling like she’d screwed me up. She had—but there was no way to fix or repair the damage, nothing to be gained by rehashing shoulda, coulda, woulda. And she had done the best with the resources she had. So I said “okay.” And let it go.