dreenameri
New Member
I don't cry about her often anymore, but yesterday was a day of gut-wrenching sobs. I drove away from her current living situation feeling like I had failed her yet again. I felt like I had no choice but to gather my camping supplies and go back. If I didn't, the small steps she had been making would be all for naught. When I got home I did a search for "My adult child chooses to be homeless" and here I am now. I still haven't packed my camping supplies.
I come from a multi-generational broken family. Starting with my great-great-grandmother, and who knows, maybe even farther back, no women in our family actually raised their children. Some passed their children on to their own mothers. And some, like my own mother, just left. I was almost two at the time. My father was serving in the military overseas. Supposedly they had an agreement. Her leaving was a tactic to get him out of the army. It worked. She was supposed to come back and never did. A few months later my father was killed trying to roll over on a drug dealer. I found myself being raised by a great aunt and uncle who didn't want me and didn't like my mother. I moved out and lived on my own at the age of 17. I might have lived in a park or nowhere at all, but I was not with people who hated me. So I made some decisions that were not the best. I got involved with the man a few years older than me, because he had a warm bed I could sleep in. When we slept. Because this man also got me involved with meth. And the house we were sleeping in actually belong to his grandmother. He had convinced me he was staying there for her benefit. She did need constant supervision and assistance. But he was also entitled and too lazy to keep a job. Still doesn't have a job to this day.
As you can guess, this story leads to me getting pregnant with this man's child. He got a decent job and I worked. We moved into a small rental. That was the first and only time he lived in a home he had to actually pay for. But he didn't pay for it long. Couldn't keep the job and wouldn't find another. It became clear to me that I did not want this life. I needed to do better for my daughter. And so I left about the time she turned 1. He never got over it.
I eventually found a man that I thought would be everything we needed. We got married and had a son who is 2 years younger than my daughter. We moved away from the town that had, and still has, the many drug and homeless problems it has. I am not going to say that I became a perfect parent at this point, but I definitely quit doing drugs and tried my best as a young mother. And for the next 10 years we did the best we could andtried to raise our children as kind, responsible adults. But the entire time, my ex was filling my daughter's head with poison. I was a terrible person. The rules I had were cruel (I wasn't even that strict). I didn't care about her. All of the things that courts consider parental alienation. Meanwhile, I refused to stoop to that level and yet again, I'm sure you can see where that led. By the time she was 12. I finally gave up and told her she could live with her dad.
Her visits to our house became less frequent. When she did come she stole from us. Barely a teenager and stealing things. And then on the 4th of July when she was 13, our family walked to a nearby festival. We had a wonderful evening. As we were walking back home she started doing cartwheels across crosswalks. Of course I told her that this was not okay and not safe. She told me moms don't know everything and escalated from there. By the time we got home she was screaming at me and I sent her up to her room. And then she started threatening to jump out of the window. I can't just ignore a threat of suicide.
What comes next is one of those moments in time where everything begins to move in slow motion. I remember thinking that I was amazingly calm for the situation. I remember this because I am not always the calmest in these types of situations. I walked up the stairs and let her know that I could not leave her alone up there. She refused to come. So my way of insisting was to gently encircle her wrists with my hands and slowly walk backwards down the steps. I didn't yank. I didn't scream. Didn't pull. I think she had realized at that point that she was coming. I made her sit on the couch next to my bed the rest of the night. The next day she went back to her father's house. When I tried to go get her the next weekend I was told I would never be allowed to see her again. What did I expect when I dragged her downstairs by her head and neck? I am completely confused at this point. We had a house full of people. We were the neighborhood hangout for my son's friends. And we continued to be so until we moved. All of those people tried to tell him that it didn't happen. But he was adamant that they were lying for me.
This was a terrible time for me. It was hard enough letting her go live with her father. I wanted to be the generation that didn't pass my children on to someone else. And now, not only had I passed her on, I had lost her completely. I lived a few hours away, but she was living in my hometown so I was able to get at least some updates. She got pregnant at 17. There was some infrequent contact, but still no softening on her part. You see, I could have had her in my life all those years if I would have just admitted what I had done wrong (dragging her downstairs by her head and neck) and apologized for it and promised not to do it again. But the problem was I didn't do it. I didn't abuse that child. I cannot tell you how many times through the years I wish I had just said I did it. Maybe if I had things would be different. Maybe if I had stayed an influence in her life during those years. Maybe if I had let her save face, which surely is just a small sacrifice that I as a mother could have given my child, everything would have been hunky dory and happily ever after. Maybe if I hadn't given in to the custody change to start with things would have been different. Well they definitely would have been because she would have not have been in that horrible city anymore. But we can't rewrite history no matter how much we may fantasize about it.
I got to see my granddaughter a handful of times before she was five. I knew each and every time that my daughter was using her to get something from me. Either flat out cash or using my cash to get her something. Not that I'm rich by any means.
Feel like has been a long post already, so I will try to move it along. Daughter gets married. sister in law of course has plenty of issues of his own. When I get invited back into this tumultuous drama that my daughter calls life, her husband has been arrested for stealing guns from her father. Her father is doing the same thing he was doing when we were together. Meth in the morning and all day long. Alcohol in the evenings to pass out again. He was rear-ended by a semi owned by a fairly large freight company. Pretty substantial settlement which is completely gone now and nothing to show for it.The grandma who owned the house is dead and his parents have now moved into that house with him. This is the influence that my daughter has. This is the influence I let her go to. I knew he did these things, I just didn't realize how out of control it was. And I was too young, and too exhausted by daughter's constant manipulation and lying that I just gave in. I found out many years later that he told her many things to make her feel she was better than her peers could ever be. He had her brainwashed to think that she could never accept an entry-level type job. She was too good for that. And she also saw that he lived without ever having to work. So she's never worked regularly, and I don't think she's even had a real job for a decade.
Okay, so my dream sister in law is in jail for robbing daughters Dad. He gets things lined up for work release and gets a job. Does it consistently enough that he is allowed house arrest with the ability to get to work each day as well. Then stops working. Of course he can't pay his fees that way and they become aware that the county is about to issue a warrant to take him back in. He only has a few months to serve. This is the point at which daughter contacts me again.
She is frantic because he is going back to jail. He can't make it those few months. She can't handle it. They are going to flee to Colorado. We live in the Midwest. She's going to pick him up from work, grab her daughter who is around 5 , and not look back. At this point I feel I should add that this husband is not the father of this 5-year-old. She needs a place to stay for a few days. I can't even remember the reason why now. Well of course guilt ridden mom says yes. Oh my gosh she's going to let me help her. I can help her and we can have a relationship and I can spend time with my granddaughter. Yes, I knew I was aiding and abetting and I was opening myself up for trouble. On the side I spoke to my neighbor, a police officer, and we set up a plan to get sister in law arrested as soon as a warrant came across the desk. In this way, I thought, everything would turn out great and I would not take the brunt of my daughter's anger for turning him. In. Meanwhile, I kept trying to explain to her the ramifications of taking her child away from baby daddy. This 5-year-old needs her father. Of course I was told that he was a drug addict and a bad influence. Okay y'all, maybe you would disagree, but I feel like a bad influence is better than no influence. Visitation can be supervised. The child needs to know that both parents care, no matter what state those parents might be in.
All of the conversation and arguing hit a brick wall. They left 2 days before they said they were going to, and it took three more weeks before the county had a warrant out for him. By then they were in Colorado. A few years later. I heard from her again. sister in law had been abusive and they were were ready to come home. Would I pick them up at a bus station? So I picked up my daughter and my granddaughter at a bus station. Daughter went to face the music with baby daddy. Baby daddy of course went directly to court and daughter lost custody. I think this was the point at which my daughter gave up. She had burnt bridges with her father somehow. She spent some time couch surfing. She would go long periods without getting in touch. For a while. She stayed at one of two local motels that are well known as trap houses. I didn't know what that was. I had to look it up. Maybe some of y'all know. Basically places to sell drugs like meth and heroin. I've since found out that she was not only selling drugs she was also the resident madam. To her, she was simply helping them because they were going to do it anyway. She fancies herself, a hero of the poor and downtrodden. I know she has participated in a lot of criminal activities. She has bragged to me about breaking windows and stabbing people. A few years back she was almost killed when she was beaten by several people. I have learned about boosting (shoplifting) and bandos (abandoned homes) and many more things that I never wanted to learn. I've offered to help many times. She doesn't want to change her life. She's been to jail for meth. And she's been to jail for failure to appear. As weak as I may be at times when it comes to her, I feel like I did the right thing by not bailing her out while she was in jail at those times. I did send her money the first few times. Then it turned into only sending money for the phone account. Two times ago I sent money that could only be used for phone calls to me. And the last time I didn't even respond.
Because I went so long without seeing my granddaughter, I still jump to anytime I get the chance. Which of course still gets taken advantage of. Baby daddy is fine with letting my daughter have visitation, whenever she feels like it. In the beginning it was frequent and regular. Now she goes months at a time without a word to her daughter. My granddaughter is now 12 years old. I live 5 hours away from them. I try to go see school concerts and make random visits, granddaughter comes to my home over the summer for visits. Sometimes I go to the town because daughter has asked for help. And I help and I help... I have moved her from one trash heap to another. As time has gone on, I have had to hunt her down. This past weekend she was supposed to go with granddaughter and I to visit my grandmother who lives another 3 hours past them. My granddaughter and grandmother spend time together. How amazing is that? I pick up granddaughter and go to get daughter. She is not at my usual place to look. This place is a home in the ghetto. The first time I went there the entire ceiling had plastic hanging down across it. There were four couches in the living room and at least one person sleeping on each one. Trash was everywhere and roaches were crawling everywhere. It's never gotten much better than that. She wasn't there but they pointed me in the direction of somewhere else. I get there and it is another terrible environment. When I knock and tell them who I am I get a tirade about how it wasn't his fault and don't come in here yelling at him. I was like whoa. I don't know what's going on. Just supposed to pick her up and take her to Grandma. He points me in the direction of another house where I finally found her passed out. I finally get her awakened and then we have to deal with her dogs. Why do our homeless children take on the responsibility of a dog when they cannot take care of themselves? I am a shy person and I get so overwhelmed at these places I have to go to.
Daughter has finally decided she is ready to deal with court and getting her life back together. She's just struggling to do that. Finally caught up with her probation officer yesterday but she was supposed to be in court. She found that out later in the day.
And that, is the point at which this post began. If you made it this long, I am amazed and thankful.
I am not going back to camp. I am not going to try to help her through this again. Doing so has not helped so far and I am now convinced, because of all of the reading I have done on these forums, that it never will. So I am also thankful for all of the sharing that has been done on these forums.
I come from a multi-generational broken family. Starting with my great-great-grandmother, and who knows, maybe even farther back, no women in our family actually raised their children. Some passed their children on to their own mothers. And some, like my own mother, just left. I was almost two at the time. My father was serving in the military overseas. Supposedly they had an agreement. Her leaving was a tactic to get him out of the army. It worked. She was supposed to come back and never did. A few months later my father was killed trying to roll over on a drug dealer. I found myself being raised by a great aunt and uncle who didn't want me and didn't like my mother. I moved out and lived on my own at the age of 17. I might have lived in a park or nowhere at all, but I was not with people who hated me. So I made some decisions that were not the best. I got involved with the man a few years older than me, because he had a warm bed I could sleep in. When we slept. Because this man also got me involved with meth. And the house we were sleeping in actually belong to his grandmother. He had convinced me he was staying there for her benefit. She did need constant supervision and assistance. But he was also entitled and too lazy to keep a job. Still doesn't have a job to this day.
As you can guess, this story leads to me getting pregnant with this man's child. He got a decent job and I worked. We moved into a small rental. That was the first and only time he lived in a home he had to actually pay for. But he didn't pay for it long. Couldn't keep the job and wouldn't find another. It became clear to me that I did not want this life. I needed to do better for my daughter. And so I left about the time she turned 1. He never got over it.
I eventually found a man that I thought would be everything we needed. We got married and had a son who is 2 years younger than my daughter. We moved away from the town that had, and still has, the many drug and homeless problems it has. I am not going to say that I became a perfect parent at this point, but I definitely quit doing drugs and tried my best as a young mother. And for the next 10 years we did the best we could andtried to raise our children as kind, responsible adults. But the entire time, my ex was filling my daughter's head with poison. I was a terrible person. The rules I had were cruel (I wasn't even that strict). I didn't care about her. All of the things that courts consider parental alienation. Meanwhile, I refused to stoop to that level and yet again, I'm sure you can see where that led. By the time she was 12. I finally gave up and told her she could live with her dad.
Her visits to our house became less frequent. When she did come she stole from us. Barely a teenager and stealing things. And then on the 4th of July when she was 13, our family walked to a nearby festival. We had a wonderful evening. As we were walking back home she started doing cartwheels across crosswalks. Of course I told her that this was not okay and not safe. She told me moms don't know everything and escalated from there. By the time we got home she was screaming at me and I sent her up to her room. And then she started threatening to jump out of the window. I can't just ignore a threat of suicide.
What comes next is one of those moments in time where everything begins to move in slow motion. I remember thinking that I was amazingly calm for the situation. I remember this because I am not always the calmest in these types of situations. I walked up the stairs and let her know that I could not leave her alone up there. She refused to come. So my way of insisting was to gently encircle her wrists with my hands and slowly walk backwards down the steps. I didn't yank. I didn't scream. Didn't pull. I think she had realized at that point that she was coming. I made her sit on the couch next to my bed the rest of the night. The next day she went back to her father's house. When I tried to go get her the next weekend I was told I would never be allowed to see her again. What did I expect when I dragged her downstairs by her head and neck? I am completely confused at this point. We had a house full of people. We were the neighborhood hangout for my son's friends. And we continued to be so until we moved. All of those people tried to tell him that it didn't happen. But he was adamant that they were lying for me.
This was a terrible time for me. It was hard enough letting her go live with her father. I wanted to be the generation that didn't pass my children on to someone else. And now, not only had I passed her on, I had lost her completely. I lived a few hours away, but she was living in my hometown so I was able to get at least some updates. She got pregnant at 17. There was some infrequent contact, but still no softening on her part. You see, I could have had her in my life all those years if I would have just admitted what I had done wrong (dragging her downstairs by her head and neck) and apologized for it and promised not to do it again. But the problem was I didn't do it. I didn't abuse that child. I cannot tell you how many times through the years I wish I had just said I did it. Maybe if I had things would be different. Maybe if I had stayed an influence in her life during those years. Maybe if I had let her save face, which surely is just a small sacrifice that I as a mother could have given my child, everything would have been hunky dory and happily ever after. Maybe if I hadn't given in to the custody change to start with things would have been different. Well they definitely would have been because she would have not have been in that horrible city anymore. But we can't rewrite history no matter how much we may fantasize about it.
I got to see my granddaughter a handful of times before she was five. I knew each and every time that my daughter was using her to get something from me. Either flat out cash or using my cash to get her something. Not that I'm rich by any means.
Feel like has been a long post already, so I will try to move it along. Daughter gets married. sister in law of course has plenty of issues of his own. When I get invited back into this tumultuous drama that my daughter calls life, her husband has been arrested for stealing guns from her father. Her father is doing the same thing he was doing when we were together. Meth in the morning and all day long. Alcohol in the evenings to pass out again. He was rear-ended by a semi owned by a fairly large freight company. Pretty substantial settlement which is completely gone now and nothing to show for it.The grandma who owned the house is dead and his parents have now moved into that house with him. This is the influence that my daughter has. This is the influence I let her go to. I knew he did these things, I just didn't realize how out of control it was. And I was too young, and too exhausted by daughter's constant manipulation and lying that I just gave in. I found out many years later that he told her many things to make her feel she was better than her peers could ever be. He had her brainwashed to think that she could never accept an entry-level type job. She was too good for that. And she also saw that he lived without ever having to work. So she's never worked regularly, and I don't think she's even had a real job for a decade.
Okay, so my dream sister in law is in jail for robbing daughters Dad. He gets things lined up for work release and gets a job. Does it consistently enough that he is allowed house arrest with the ability to get to work each day as well. Then stops working. Of course he can't pay his fees that way and they become aware that the county is about to issue a warrant to take him back in. He only has a few months to serve. This is the point at which daughter contacts me again.
She is frantic because he is going back to jail. He can't make it those few months. She can't handle it. They are going to flee to Colorado. We live in the Midwest. She's going to pick him up from work, grab her daughter who is around 5 , and not look back. At this point I feel I should add that this husband is not the father of this 5-year-old. She needs a place to stay for a few days. I can't even remember the reason why now. Well of course guilt ridden mom says yes. Oh my gosh she's going to let me help her. I can help her and we can have a relationship and I can spend time with my granddaughter. Yes, I knew I was aiding and abetting and I was opening myself up for trouble. On the side I spoke to my neighbor, a police officer, and we set up a plan to get sister in law arrested as soon as a warrant came across the desk. In this way, I thought, everything would turn out great and I would not take the brunt of my daughter's anger for turning him. In. Meanwhile, I kept trying to explain to her the ramifications of taking her child away from baby daddy. This 5-year-old needs her father. Of course I was told that he was a drug addict and a bad influence. Okay y'all, maybe you would disagree, but I feel like a bad influence is better than no influence. Visitation can be supervised. The child needs to know that both parents care, no matter what state those parents might be in.
All of the conversation and arguing hit a brick wall. They left 2 days before they said they were going to, and it took three more weeks before the county had a warrant out for him. By then they were in Colorado. A few years later. I heard from her again. sister in law had been abusive and they were were ready to come home. Would I pick them up at a bus station? So I picked up my daughter and my granddaughter at a bus station. Daughter went to face the music with baby daddy. Baby daddy of course went directly to court and daughter lost custody. I think this was the point at which my daughter gave up. She had burnt bridges with her father somehow. She spent some time couch surfing. She would go long periods without getting in touch. For a while. She stayed at one of two local motels that are well known as trap houses. I didn't know what that was. I had to look it up. Maybe some of y'all know. Basically places to sell drugs like meth and heroin. I've since found out that she was not only selling drugs she was also the resident madam. To her, she was simply helping them because they were going to do it anyway. She fancies herself, a hero of the poor and downtrodden. I know she has participated in a lot of criminal activities. She has bragged to me about breaking windows and stabbing people. A few years back she was almost killed when she was beaten by several people. I have learned about boosting (shoplifting) and bandos (abandoned homes) and many more things that I never wanted to learn. I've offered to help many times. She doesn't want to change her life. She's been to jail for meth. And she's been to jail for failure to appear. As weak as I may be at times when it comes to her, I feel like I did the right thing by not bailing her out while she was in jail at those times. I did send her money the first few times. Then it turned into only sending money for the phone account. Two times ago I sent money that could only be used for phone calls to me. And the last time I didn't even respond.
Because I went so long without seeing my granddaughter, I still jump to anytime I get the chance. Which of course still gets taken advantage of. Baby daddy is fine with letting my daughter have visitation, whenever she feels like it. In the beginning it was frequent and regular. Now she goes months at a time without a word to her daughter. My granddaughter is now 12 years old. I live 5 hours away from them. I try to go see school concerts and make random visits, granddaughter comes to my home over the summer for visits. Sometimes I go to the town because daughter has asked for help. And I help and I help... I have moved her from one trash heap to another. As time has gone on, I have had to hunt her down. This past weekend she was supposed to go with granddaughter and I to visit my grandmother who lives another 3 hours past them. My granddaughter and grandmother spend time together. How amazing is that? I pick up granddaughter and go to get daughter. She is not at my usual place to look. This place is a home in the ghetto. The first time I went there the entire ceiling had plastic hanging down across it. There were four couches in the living room and at least one person sleeping on each one. Trash was everywhere and roaches were crawling everywhere. It's never gotten much better than that. She wasn't there but they pointed me in the direction of somewhere else. I get there and it is another terrible environment. When I knock and tell them who I am I get a tirade about how it wasn't his fault and don't come in here yelling at him. I was like whoa. I don't know what's going on. Just supposed to pick her up and take her to Grandma. He points me in the direction of another house where I finally found her passed out. I finally get her awakened and then we have to deal with her dogs. Why do our homeless children take on the responsibility of a dog when they cannot take care of themselves? I am a shy person and I get so overwhelmed at these places I have to go to.
Daughter has finally decided she is ready to deal with court and getting her life back together. She's just struggling to do that. Finally caught up with her probation officer yesterday but she was supposed to be in court. She found that out later in the day.
And that, is the point at which this post began. If you made it this long, I am amazed and thankful.
I am not going back to camp. I am not going to try to help her through this again. Doing so has not helped so far and I am now convinced, because of all of the reading I have done on these forums, that it never will. So I am also thankful for all of the sharing that has been done on these forums.
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