One Step Forward, One Smashed Pipe

Within the last week, I’ve spoken to the new probation officer assigned to my daughter’s case, for which she’s appearing next week. I had a great conversation with the woman, and she clearly is convinced that my daughter is nothing less than a saint—two jobs, enrolling in school, “thinking of” volunteering for Habitat for Humanity…Why wouldn’t she? I talked her up for an hour, explaining that she had a tough time for a while, that she is now being treated for depression and anxiety, and that we just lost my stepfather and she’s been an angel from heaven for her nana in her time of need.  I filled out the necessary paperwork with all the personal questions, and even made sure I mentioned that though I’m aware my daughter has used drugs, I have zero suspicions at this time. I didn’t at the moment I wrote that.

Of course, it’s a lie. I suspect all the time that she’s smoking pot every time she leaves the house. Every time she doesn’t have money for gas, despite having two jobs, I assume she’s spent whatever pocket change she has on a bag of weed. I assume that the reason she has put on weight in the last few months and always craves junk food is because she is stoned. I have no way to prove it, and it would be a tremendous battle to get her to pee in a cup, so I ask and nag. She swears on bibles, graves, dead puppies, and her job that she wasn’t smoking pot.

Here’s where this is going: Yesterday, I was tired and decided to come home early and nap before going to the gym. I texted my daughter to let her know I was coming home early, too. I never heard back from her, so I assumed that she was still involved in placement testing at the college and couldn’t get on the phone.

I couldn’t have been more wronger—er—wrong—er—incorrect! I walked in the door to find her asleep on the couch, still in her work clothes. I called to her, but she wouldn’t awaken. I called again and nothing. I went to my room to change out of my work clothes, and she still wasn’t stirring when I came out. I figured she was really tired so I went over to give her a kiss and cover her up.

BUT, BUT, BUT right beside her on the couch was a pot pipe and a lighter. The same pot pipe I found in her room and gave her to give away (see my stupidity in this post http://booboostotatoos.blogspot.com/2011/06/again-and-again-and-again.html). I picked it up and screamed at her---the stuff you’d expect me to say.

She followed me through the house as I went to get the hammer so I could smash the goddamned thing once and for all. While I crushed that glass pipe, she pleaded with me to listen to her, so I finally did. She went through the expected defenses and swore that she only had a puff or two (in the car, not the house, as if that makes it better), that she hasn’t been doing it at all, that it was only half a bowl (whatever that means), that she’s been doing so well and she’d never ruin her accomplishments, yada yada yada.

I calmed down, heard her out, decided to move on and take that nap that I was now desperate for. I had her run some time-consuming errands for me and we made our deal to go to the gym afterwards.  I had to make her go, and I had to wait for when she was good and ready, but we went. It was probably harder for her than for me, even though we are equally out of shape. She is a smoker and she had been recently stoned (according to me).

I don’t know what to do, don’t know if what I do matters, don’t know if I should include a punishment. I’m lost and really trying to find something to grab onto. Will the gym keep her occupied? Will my disapproval and lack of trust for her make a difference? Will she grow out of this? Will the judge in the courtroom scare her next week? Will they drug test her? I hope the answer is YES to all of the above.

Again and Again and Again….

Our story always gets better! So I was having some company the other day and naturally decided to do some housecleaning. The worst room in the house? My 17-year-old’s, of course. She was at work, so I did the usual stuff—picked up the dirty clothes and put them in the hamper, threw away the abundant trash, made the bed…then I needed to vacuum, so I picked up the random junk off the floor, including a nice small box by the side of her bed.

I opened it and it STUNK from marijuana. The box was her stash—a glass pipe with sticky residue, a few boxes that sift out the leaves, a little baggie of pot, and general paraphernalia. I’m sure they all have names; I just don’t know what they are. After pacing a good bit and cursing out loud, I texted her to call me ASAP.

She did what you’d think, the typical bullsh*t—pretended that she forgot about it, said she hadn’t even smoked in soooo long, claimed it wasn’t hers…etc. I told her I was throwing it out and she angrily said that was fine, but I should save the boxes so she could give them to someone. I screamed and carried on and told her how disappointed I am. She, on the other hand, was cold and didn’t apologize or react the way I’d hoped. She was entirely stoic, which is the wrong response in my opinion.

I’m ridiculous, possibly weak—I actually washed them in the dishwasher, scrubbed out the box, and let her dispose of them as she saw fit. They’re not in my house or her car, but I still should’ve thrown them out anyway. I know it, but I didn’t do it. You don’t have to beat me up; I already have.

I feel like it’s all hopeless. I try so hard to trust my child, try to give her the benefit of the doubt because she can be loving, lovely, and lucid—but sometimes I think she has a borderline personality and cannot empathize  and have normal emotions that don’t involve herself.

Relapse or Just Plain STUPID?

I'll cut right to the chase. I came home, smelled something funny in my house, and saw my daughter opening windows and lighting incense. I couldn't believe it--my daughter had been smoking pot in my house. At first, I thought I was imagining things, but when I saw the leaves in the toilet and a butt on the bathroom sink, it was too late.

I was beyond...words.

She tried to lie, but it was a futile. I caught her. She was busted.

I told her I was ashamed of her, that I didn't respect her, and that it was inconceivable to me that she would break the law right in my house. MY HOUSE. The house I have worked so hard to provide for her, the home I have made for her.

She begged me to accept her apology and tried to make a million excuses--that she had a bad day, that she throught this would help relax her, that...it didn't matter. They're just cop-outs to me. She's on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds. Now, she's going to add illegal drugs to the mix? Who doesn't have bad days--does that mean we should go out and break the law to make ourselves feel better?

I made dinner and we got through the evening. I wouldn't let her go out because no way was she going to drive under the influence. I also had her go to her car and throw away anything that might be suspect. Remember, she has a history of being stopped and having pot paraphernalia on her. In fact, we have a court appearance scheduled for later this month from one of those incidents.

I had very little to say to her the rest of the evening. This morning, she woke up too late, and again didn't make any effort to show she's a changed person. Left her room a mess, shit all over the floor.

I did get a text message from her:  "mom, im sorry. i hope you believe me. i am ashamed that i chose to sink to the level i used to be on. i cant tell u how much im beating myself up for it. I made you lose your respect for me and i worked so hard to gain that back. I really apologize for my actions. i understand how mad u r. its my fault for smoking. I had a moment of weakness. I regularly take my medication but its just i had a horrible day and i was crushed with emotions. Talking was not on my mind. I started going into my depressed thoughts and screwed up. I smoked a plant and im sorry. I didnt mix drugs cuz i'm not a retard but i do admit i made a mistake. Im not asking for forgiveness but i want u to understand i was extremely used to dealing with my problems that way. I'm not u i have addiction tendencys. To cigs and weed. Im trying my hardest to not depend on it. I did an amazing job for myself and i slipped up one time. i hate myself for it but i cant take it back. You can hate me, play the silent game, whatever, i understand. And i did want you to find it, do u think i wanted to get awas with doing something like that, no." [sic]

What the hell do I do now? I'm still feeling emotional--offended, angry, frustrated, disappointed, even guilty...you name it.