I Must Learn to DETACH! (Long ranting post)

Sadly, life with my troubled teen has been dismal and miserable for the past few weeks. I’m a bundle of nerves, stressed to the point of physical illness, and spend my days grinding my teeth and feeling like I’m suffocating. I can’t say or do anything right; even my most innocuous comments like, “Have a good day,” are met with disdain and disgust.

It’s like she turned on me all of a sudden. I’ve been trying to reflect on my wild and disconnected thoughts about this experience. Since they don’t connect in any stream of consciousness or weblike way, the only thing I can do is make a list of what has changed and what I’ve seen, dealt with, felt, found…

Found

Several gram bags in her trash, on her floor, even out in the open. They’re the mini Ziploc-style baggies with the cute designs on them, like happy faces or dollar signs. I worried at first that they mean a hit of heroin, as someone told me, but after more research, I was “relieved” to find out that these are used for $20 worth of pot. Relieved, haha!

Lost

Our relationship. It is dying a slow, agonizing death. She has poisoned it with her downward spiral and I feel totally powerless to resuscitate it. She won’t have a conversation with me that has any depth or meaning, and most of our talking is through text messages. The most I get is, “Do you have any color safe leave-in conditioner?” And she has one stock answer for any question or comment I might have: “ok.” In lower case letters. She will also pull the “well, you threw me out” card wherever she can needle it in. Of course I’m not nervous around her or afraid of her, but it sure feels awkward around my child now. She has a giant chip on her shoulder that’s destroying what I thought we had. We had really built a decent relationship where we enjoyed each other’s company. I don’t know why she decided to cause so much damage.

Changes

Besides her shitty attitude...dear daughter changed her hair from bleached out hooker hair to bright pinkish, neonish, reddish. It is much like clown hair with bangs—and I think she looks ridiculous. The crazy change indicates to me a “fuck all of you” attitude, which has certainly been reflected in her comments to me and about just about anyone around her. People at work are no longer respecting her; what a surprise, right? She’s fretting that everyone is rude to her now and looking at her funny. What the hell does she expect? She’s not a kid in high school—she has a real job, and there are certain expectations. I tried to tell her that in a diplomatic way, and am met with, “I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks.” OK, that’s the spirit. Her hair is really just a symptom of her overall bad attitude and negative presentation to the world.

New Boyfriend

He’s not too bad, considering. He’s one of those kids I knew aplenty back when I was a teacher. Highly intelligent, well-mannered, lots of potential, even witty…but lazy, unmotivated, a bit slovenly, and an underachiever. He’s a big guy, and he is clearly smitten with my daughter and if he hasn’t gotten into her pants already, he’ll be there soon. They’ve even changed their Facebook statuses to “in a relationship.” She likes him too, though she’s been complaining about him a bit, which to me marks the beginning of the end. She loves the initial part of a new relationship, but quickly tires of them and finds all their flaws—usually things she found endearing at first.

They’ve spent a lot of time together—he’s one of the few who makes that possible, despite not having a car, a cell phone, his own apartment…but he like her enough I guess to find a ride, a phone to use, and a place to go. And he does have a full time job—at a fast food restaurant.

The other day, when she was sick, I tried to be helpful to her and get to know him a little by picking him up and bringing him over to the house. He helped me hang curtains, I fed him, and we all joked around a bit. At the end of the evening, around 9:30 pm,  I asked him one too many questions about his ride home (they rejected a ride from me—probably because they intended to make a “pickup” stop) and my daughter launched into a rage that came out of nowhere. It went on with such anger and bite that she appeared hysterical to me and I had to tell her to calm down.

That made her frothier—to the point where I felt like I was going to have temper tantrum. I SOOO wanted to hit her, but I don’t do that. Her boyfriend even said to me when she walked out of the room, “If I did that, my dad would beat the shit out of me.” That actually caused me to tear up. I felt so helpless and impotent—there was literally nothing I could do. I can’t/wouldn’t beat her; she doesn’t process a raised voice or a voice of reason; and she doesn’t care if she hurts, insults, or disrespects me. Instead of yelling at her with an audience in the room, I left the house for a few hours to settle down. I went to my boyfriend’s house, who I’ve found to be understanding, sympathetic (he’s been through all this with his son), and my rock.

During the time I was gone, I texted her to let her know that I’d be gone for the evening and that she should arrange for her own ride to work in the morning. She responded with, “Be safe. Love you.” A few more pleasant texts like that and I was baffled. She didn’t apologize or acknowledge her abuse, she just acted like nothing had happened. I came home around 2 am, and much to my exasperation, the boyfriend had never left and was asleep in the guest room. All that drama for fucking nothing.

The next day, I discussed the situation with my mother and I got, “Don’t let her get away with that. She won.” WTF? What am I supposed to do?? Lower myself to fighting and arguing with a drug addict? I don’t win no matter what I do. Today I’m looking into Nar Anon and finding a meeting. This is nuts. I must learn to DETACH.

Monday Mania Turns into Tuesday Trouble and Wednesday Weed

Today is Wednesday, but let me backtrack to Tuesday night.

I'm a sucker. I won't learn. I always rust, I hope, and I pray that things will be better.

We didn't fight Tuesday morning when I drove her to work. There was little communication throughout the day. This deserves a mention--until this past week, she was conscientious about calling me each day and updating me and just sort of checking in. Now the secretiveness is back in spades.

When I got home from work--late--she had just finished bleaching  her hair again. She left my house in disarray, but I just aked her calmly to clean it up. Then she told me she was going to her friend's house and, since she had the next day off, she'd be sleeping over. After she was dressed, it was pretty late so she asked if I could drive her. Once in the car, she asked if I could drop her at the restaurant where her boyfriend works so she could say hello, then her friend's mother would pick her up from there. I agreed of course. We got to the place and her boyfriend was there to greet her and he was very pleasant to me--I don't know him well, but he seems okay. He wouldn't be my first choice for my daughter's mate, but she doesn't listen to me about anything. so I choose to zip it.

I left, we texted a little bit later in the evening and she was cheerful and seemed just fine. I went to sleep around 9:30 or 10:00--something I was looking forward to since I haven't been sleeping very well--only to be awakened by a restricted call at 1:11 a.m. It was a police officer.

"Hello, is this the mother of XX?"
"Yes."
"I'm Officer XX from the XX police department. I have your daughter here in custody."
"Oh my god. What did she do?"
"I found her smoking pot in XX Park just a few minutes ago."
""So shouldn't you arrest her?
"Um, I have to release her to you, ma'am."
"Sighhhhhhhh, fine. I'll wake up and come out there. Where is this place?"
"It's on XX Avenue and XX Road, just off the freeway."

So, again I threw on clothes and half-asleep trekked out to retrieve my criminal daughter. It was in a not-great part of town that I'm not familiar with, but it was easy to follow the flashing cruiser lights. I found the location, where my daughter was handcuffed in the back of the squad car. The officer greeted me and got my daugher out of the back seat. He proceeded to unlock the cuffs and I said, "No, she should stay in them a little longer."

He explained that she was found there alone, smoking weed, after curfew, and carrying a fake ID. He excused himself to do his paperwork and I had to stand outside with my shameful daughter. I asked what the hell was going on and she started right out of the gate with excused, "First of all, XX never texted me back, so they didn't pick me up." She was already blaming someone else! Then she went on to say she was just gong to wait in the park until her boyfriend got off work--that meant she had been in the park for, what, four hours? Hmmm.

I was so angry at the blatant bullshit, the illegal activities, the prostitute hair, that I yelled at her right in front of the police officer. My theme: When You Knew You Were Stranded, Why Didn't You Call Me????

She wouldn't answer, wouldn't respond, wouldn't do anything. She was so stoned. And she looked pathetic with the handcuffs and that freaking hair.

The details: She had 2 bags of pot and was smoking it in public--a class 6 felony, which can carry a 6 month to 1.5 year sentence in our state. I'm not sure if they'll do that since she's still not 18, but who knows? The court date will be after she's turned 18. I lectured and the officer lectured, telling her that with this on her record, she will have trouble finding employment should anything happen to her great job that she has now. She is on the wrong path (if I had a dollar for every time I've heard that).

Why do they keep slapping her wrist??????? I even told him to arrest her and he wouldn't.

I told her that as of the day she turns 18, she needs to find a new place to live because I'm done. I can't handle this anymore. I'm not interested in this lifestyle.

So we're back to zero in our relationship. Zero trust, zero respect, zero closeness. She spent today while I was at work looking for housing arrangements. As of one hour ago, her decision was made: she's moving in with her boyfriend and another couple to an apartment across the street from where she works.

She has just bought a ticket straight to ruining her life for good and there's not a goddamned thing I can do about it.

Oh, and the hair? Today when I returned home from work and she was on the computer looking for apartments, I offered to give her an early holiday gift of a salon visit to get it fixed professionally. She refused, said she'd get if fixed herself, and that she is fine with it the way it is so why should I give a shit? As I write this, she's in that storefront shithole gettng it fixed by the same incompetent moron who screwed it up in the first place.

Monday Mania

So troubled daughter has a new boyfriend--and she's really smitten with him. She's phyically, emotionally, and mentally attracted to him and what he represents. They're moving fast and have even changed their Facebook statuses (I guess that's a huge deal for young people).

It would normally be just fine, young love, an "awwww" moment, but they're moving really fast. She's been on cloud nine and tells me how special he makes her feel and how he goes out of his way to be a dreamboat.

Now, with all this gushing, she's turned on me. She's suddenly the old daughter again, talking back to me, telling me she doesn't care what I think, she doesn't want to be anything like me, and so on. I thought we had made so many strides in our relationship, but I was mistaken.  Apparently, she's been lying just as much as always and smoking weed as much as always and being secretive as much as always.

She's also taken to destroying her beautiful hair. She trusted someone who has a storefront (I would hardly call it a beauty shop) to change her haircolor to some light, bright red color. But instead of getting that, she's been to the place twice and the girl has systematically ruined her hair. The process has been a nightmare and my beautiful daughter looks horrible. I was upset on Monday morning (two mornings ago) that she has spent so much time on this hair thing and with her boyfriend that I scolded her for screwing with her priorities. She's not doing her school work, she's not keeping up her room, she's not taking her medication...Then I told her she had ruined her hair, and we had a big argument. When I dropped her at work, she screamed at me and then slammed my door shut.

When she got into work, she texted me something that started with, "Screw you. I got five compliments on my hair, so get off your high horse..." and it went on from there. Later on, she apologized and said she felt terrible for what she said, but still argued with me about wearing a too short skirt to walk to the bus.

So I thought we were a little better, and I dropped the issue of her hair for the time being, and she agreed that the girl had made a mess of things and that she was going back the next day (Tuesday) to have it fixed. The girl didn't follow through on their agreed appointment (shows how non-legit this was), so my daughter decided to take hair bleach to her head. She turned her hair bright orange in some places, white in others, and pink in others still--and it now looks and feels like rubber. With her eyebrows colored in and the erradically colored hair, she looks like white trash, almost like a prostitute. (contintued in next post)

Boundaries—They Go Both Ways

My formerly troubled teen and I have been working so hard on our relationship, which is based on trust and mutual respect—like adults would have. I work like a madwoman to not get angry over the small stuff because it gets me nowhere with her and does very little for me.

We recently (I’m talking in the last few days) moved from a rented townhouse to our own home. I worked very hard to make this happen and handled every last detail by myself. I didn’t expect my daughter to help me with much other than packing her room and transporting her cats to the new house. My expectations were low, not because I didn’t want help or was afraid to ask, but because she has two jobs and has been totally exhausted. I’m very type A and would probably re-do anything she did anyway.

So here’s the subject of this post: I screwed up. I didn’t think I was at the time, but I realize now her point of view.

She asked me to get her jeans out of “the car” to wear to work and I misunderstood her to mean HER car. Now, I’ve been peeking into her car and noticing what a pigsty it is, and asked her dozens of times just to throw away the trash. She said she would, did, was planning on it, forgot…all the normal teenager responses…and it made me crazy. I asked if I could clean her car and she turned me down. So I thought when she told me to go to her car that she was sort of indirectly giving me permission to clean. It was moving day, she was getting ready for work, and I was waiting for the movers to finish up, and was happy (more like thrilled) to tidy up her car. I got a giant bag of trash and another one with clothes and shoes and ANOTHER one with miscellaneous whatevers.

I ended up removing something she needed for work and her wallet with her driver’s license, and she was BLAZING mad. She called me from the road to chew me out. Then she texted me in capital letters about how I disrespected her, that she works so hard to pay for her car, and she gets to keep it any way she pleases. That I stepped over the line.

She was absolutely right. I should have minded my own business. That IS her car, that IS her domain, she DOES work hard, and she has every right to make those decisions. I certainly wouldn’t want her rummaging through my things and removing them without my permission.

She calmed down that evening and we talked about it. She accepted my apology and my promise to respect her space and her in general. I felt terrible (still do) and realize that she really helps me be a better parent and a better person. I am grateful that she is as forgiving as she is because, many times, girls like her hold an angry, steadfast grudge.