Here we go, again

Even though I knew it would happen, I didn’t think it would be so soon.  My girl is home, at least for now.  She moved out March 9th.  She called me crying and screaming on March 23rd.  He had her cornered in the bathroom.  She was sitting with her back against the tub, feet on the door, trying to hold the door shut.  She begged me to get the phone that was once on my plan activated so she could let the phone he “bought” her at the apartment. I did.  I must give a shout out to Verizon for their quick work and dealing with a frantic mom.  Anyway, he eventually left to go to work.  I stayed on the phone with her, she was packing her things, loading her car and coming home.  When I felt she was stable enough I hung up with her (since I was at work), and we communicated through messages.  I would check in, she told me she was getting things together.  At one point I asked what was happening and she told me there was just a shooting right outside the apartment, at a high school across the street and there were officers everywhere, the school was being evacuated, etc.  I checked the local news and sure enough, a 17-year-old was shot dead in a park next to the high school.  She used this as an excuse not to be able to leave.  I checked in with her again, now she told me she talked to him on the phone and how it was all just a miscommunication on her part, and they were communicating really well now, and he was finally understanding what her thoughts were and how she feels, blah, blah, blah.  So, she did not leave.  

On March 24th, me and my husband left for Florida for a family party.  She did not go.  I do not have to explain why.  But I was scared shitless that while we were away something would happen.  I chatted with her a few times, and she seemed okay.

We returned the evening of March 28th.  On March 29th it was back to work.  I received a call from her at 8:01 AM.  She was crying, screaming, and yelling.  I heard him in the background screaming at her.  She was begging me to help her, to call someone in the family to come and help her get her stuff and get out.  While she was on the phone, I called my middle son and asked if he could go to her.  He said yes.  I called my husband and told him to get on the road and get to her, which he did.  Both asked if they should stop and get their handguns.  I said no.  Although, drippy dick is known to carry illegally (shocking).  I stayed on the phone with her, he eventually went outside, and she was able to get to her car and leave, without any of her things, including her cat.  I told her to stop using the phone that was on his plan, the same phone he was screaming at her for using and he was threatening to call the cops and have her arrested for theft.  I told her to let him call the cops.  (He has multiple charges that he hasn’t responded to, which means he has active warrants.  But I did not tell her that.) I had her drive to a public place and told her to wait there for her brother and dad. I hung up with her. She called back a few minutes later the “old” phone and told me that she drove back to the apartment, reset the phone he “bought” her, and she threw it in the back yard. All this was apparently witnessed by drippy’s Uncle who lives in the same house, different apartment. That was the first I heard about that. 

So, her rescuers get there. They all drive to the apartment and get everything possible loaded into the three cars and drive her home. The home that now has her room cleaned out. No carpet because it was destroyed by her.  No bed because she took the bedframe and box spring when she moved in with drippy.  No dresser because she took that as well.  We had started to redo a room for our grandkids and were using her old room to store things.  

I get home from work, call an order in for food and leave to go pick up food and get groceries since we were away and needed the basics.  Got home, ate, put groceries away and started moving shit around to make room for an air mattress, her cat, the cat box and all her shit that had been taken out of the house.  I now have her clothing hampers all over my downstairs because there isn’t any place to put it.  

I tried talking to her briefly about drippy and the situation, however she stopped me very abruptly and got nasty.  I stopped.  I knew if I started on her, I would not be able to control what I said.  

This morning, me and the hubby get up as usual to go to work.  After being at work for a few hours I sent her a message and asked how she was.  She said OKAY.  I asked if she talked to him and she said yes, they messaged on Snap Chat.  He told her that he slept in his car at his mom’s house because the apartment was so empty without her and her stuff.  Really, dickhead?  I told her it was yet another one of his games.  She didn’t say much to that.  

My prediction is she will go back to him.  We will then need to decide what we are willing to live with.  We cannot keep living like this.  Do we kick her out completely?  Tell her if she goes back, we will not be able to rescue her again?  Tell her we will rescue her, but she has to find somewhere else to live?  What is right?  What is kinda right?  She needs fucking help.  So fucking bad.  She would not agree to committing herself to give her mind and body a break.  She is thin, too thin.  Is there more happening than we know?  Probably.  It scares me.  She scares me.  He scares me.  Together they are toxic.

Here we are, again. No closer to having answers or helping our daughter.

Author: howdoilifeweb

Late 40's, wife, mom, daughter, sister, friend.

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