It is not the fear of homelessness, it is the fear of coming home

New Leaf

Well-Known Member
Yoga pants, hanging on my clothesline. This is where it started, this fear. Something as simple as yoga pants.
I came home from work, went outside and there they were. Yoga pants, not mine. The smell of my d cs perfume wafted from them, in the breeze.

My heart sank, she has been here.

After four months of peace, of rebuilding our lives, of finally accepting her disappearing with nary a goodbye, leaving all of her raggedy possessions, she has come back. Sneaking back while we were at work.
It is not a good feeling.

We have gone through years of enabling with our two, in and out the revolving door. When they have come home, it started out well intended from both ends. Then little clues emerged that change had not happened. Little clues built up to a crescendo of chaos, robbed my home of peace, and things, missing, and the questions. "Why are we going through this? What has happened to my children? Why can't they see the damage drug use, has done to them? How can we turn the away, when they are our children?"

The answers came, through the years of comings and goings, through counseling, working through guilt, deep sorrow, then realization that there was nothing we had done, or could do to help, or prevent the choices that they made and are making.

For my oldest, now 36, it has been 18 years of struggle. She has dabbled with pot, alcohol, poor judgement with mates, held jobs, quit them, responsible, irresponsible, to meth.
She denies it. But I witnessed it, not the actual smoking of it, but the changes. The sleeping, the tweaking, the moodiness, weight loss, aging face, the dress code, hoody, backpack, baseball cap pulled low over the eyes, and sunglasses. I see this "uniform" of meth users everywhere, the parks, outside stores, walking the streets.

It is as if there is a whole different underworld, meth zombies.

And my daughter is one of them.

I realized first , that we could not help her. I was tired of the excuses, the sleeping as we went off to work. The midnight disappearances. The moodiness that enveloped our house like a dark cloud. The rule breaking. Coming home from work to find street hardened people in my back yard. The missing items. I would question myself, thinking I had misplaced things. Then it became more obvious, missing cash from our wallets, we would lock them in our cars. The odd behaviors, one day coming in from yard work, finding her still scrubbing an area behind the stove, she had begun two hours before. "I knew I could get this clean!" She said triumphantly.

We had been blinded by our love for her, and our desire to help. Our help did not help her. It only helped her continue her habits, and sent us spinning into a world of guilt and sorrow and more enabling. I was the stronger one, the one who had to put my foot down, the one who questioned things. She used that to divide my hubs and I. He was the softy, and she pounced on it. She has held me in contempt for years.

"She cannot live here" I told my hubs a few years back. He reluctantly agreed. She came back. He let her. She left again, homeless. We did not see her. When she did, she was unrecognizable. There were excuses, "health issues" "I have been walking" etc. etc. but the clues were right there in front of us. Still we tried.

I feel if we had put our foot down years ago, she may not be at this point. But there is no good to come of looking back, we cannot change what was. We can learn from it, or help others.

I mention it, because perhaps some of you here on CD, desperately looking for answers for your situations, with younger d cs, may benefit from our mistake, from the lesson and regret I feel now.

If anything, the comfort of posting here, of venting, and then trying to help others, brings some meaning to all of this.
If someone can take my story, and use it to help themselves in their trials, then something has been gained, from what we have lost.

Folks post of the sadness and horror of having their d cs become homeless. Yes, it is sad, but with the choices they make, inevitable. I ask you all to look at my story, years and years of the revolving door to my house, going round and round, ended up with my d c being homeless at 34, still at 36. Perhaps, if we had shut the door long ago, made her take responsibility for her choices, I would not be here writing this. Perhaps not. Who knows?

The point is, our d cs are on a path of their choice, and they must take full responsibility and suffer the consequences of their actions. They are the captains of their ships, we are the captains of ours. We do not have to go down with their ship.

When I came home yesterday, the yoga pants were gone, meaning she had been back again in our absence to claim them.

I do not look at this as a good thing. I have finally accepted that she is on her path, given her to God, and stopped the endless worrying about where she is, is she eating, is she okay.

I have to live my life, for me, for my husband, and for my young son. We deserve to have a peaceful home. We have let go of the notion that we can help her.There is help out there for her, she doesn't want it. When she was in our home, she did not care about her actions, she did not care what she did, said, what affect it all had on us. She ravaged herself with meth, and ravaged us along with her. Then disappeared.

I did not pine away for her. I was used to this.

A peace fell over our home.

And now, she is back. Like a ghost.
I have not seen her, but the clues are here. Yoga pants, here then not. My clothes on the line, missing. An empty hotel bottle of shampoo on the ground, by our hose.

I do not fear her being homeless, I fear her being home. Home when we are gone at work. Home to take advantage of us, to steal from us.

I do not fear that I will break, and take her back in.
I am done with that.
I know her life has not changed, who comes to their parents home when they are not there, if they have changed?

In her state of mind, on meth, she is a danger to herself, and to us.
Sigh.

I share this here, wondering if any of my CD friends have experienced this, and have suggestions.

I share it also in hopes that those struggling with their young d cs, and the notion of "helping" understand the risk in it. That setting boundaries early on, may prevent what has happened to us, and our daughter, from happening to them.

For now, I have resolved within myself to try to have a better frame of mind with this.

To not let the appearance and disappearance of yoga pants send me spinning.

I need to settle myself and breathe, and live.

What will be, will be.

With all of your help and support, I have become stronger, I thank you my friends for that.

I will be okay, with Gods grace and help, we will be okay.

One day at a a time....
leafy
 

pasajes4

Well-Known Member
AHHHH Leaf, I hear your pain. I also hear the deep love you have for your children. The pain of having to let them go and figure it out for themselves. The resolve to take back your home and your life. The frustration of not being able to reach them.
 

New Leaf

Well-Known Member
AHHHH Leaf, I hear your pain. I also hear the deep love you have for your children. The pain of having to let them go and figure it out for themselves. The resolve to take back your home and your life. The frustration of not being able to reach them.
Thank you Pas. I am okay with not reaching them.
I do not want the trouble attached, if you know what I mean.
This new appearance of clues in my back yard has caught me off guard.
My d c is not in her right mind, and doesn't think twice of using us for an ends to her means.
I am trying to relax and not spin into a frenzy. Can't control what I don't know. No sense losing sleep or worrying.

One day a at a time.
Thank you for your kindness,
leafy
 

recoveringenabler

Well-Known Member
Staff member
A beautifully written, poignant tale filled with sorrow and acceptance.....thank you for sharing your story so eloquently New Leaf, there are many who will benefit from what you've been through.

I am sorry that this is your present reality, I know how much grief you've experienced along the way to accepting what is, I have been through a similar journey with my daughter who will be 43 in a couple of weeks. Cedar once said that this is a "devastation like no other", which I think is probably the best definition of what we go through here. Remarkably, you've walked through this fire and come out the other side, as I have too.......and upon emerging from the fire, we find meaning for the depth of suffering we've endured......compassion for our children, for ourselves, for others who are suffering.....and with our experience, our new found wisdom, we can offer a helping hand to those still mired in the pain of it all.

I've learned to live in this present moment, forays in to the past or the future are tortuous.........you've done a beautiful job of staying in the present, taking it one moment at a time. Your journey through this has left you with much wisdom, compassion, kindness and acceptance which, in my opinion, can break open our hearts to allow grace and love to bloom in very different ways........that has been my experience.

You're a warrior New Leaf, a soldier on the battlefield of drug addiction......and you deserve the medal of honor, the purple heart.....for learning how to stand in the midst of the war, with explosions going off all around you.....and still maintain an open heart........no small feat.
 

New Leaf

Well-Known Member
Leafy, does she have a key to your house?

I'm sorry you have to deal with this. I know the feeling of dread and anxiety.

Hugs
Hi Tess, no key, but is able to break in through our window. We now close and lock them......
At least the weather has cooled and my dogs will not be too hot.

Oh sigh, it is what it is. Thanks Tess.
I have given up the anxiety part. No good for my health.
I am reassuring my boy, we are not going down the road of enabling ever again, and I mean that. You know what he said?
"I know Mom."
Good, he knows, he has been through enough.
Thanks to all for your help here, there are no words to describe my gratitude.
leafy
 

New Leaf

Well-Known Member
A beautifully written, poignant tale filled with sorrow and acceptance.....thank you for sharing your story so eloquently New Leaf, there are many who will benefit from what you've been through.
Thank you Recovering. I like your name. I guess we have an incurable disease too, huh? Kind of parallel to our d cs addiction. I will think on this today.

I am better. I guess it is radical acceptance.

Only time will tell in all things, really.

One step, one day.

Thank you so much for your kind words, and inspiration, I would write more but I have got to lock up and go to work. My eyes tear and my heart is filled with your reply.

Fingers crossed, prayers said, for my home and every one out there,
for peace.

leafy
 

New Leaf

Well-Known Member
Yes Apple the eldest. It has been a long hard road with her. I pray for my girls but they have got to figure this out for themselves. Maybe one day, only time will tell.
Leafy
 

Kalahou

Well-Known Member
New Leaf,

How I know the feeling well, how the Difficult Child has shown up at home when we are gone or away at work, or the midnight in/ out visits. With my son, he is still able to come into the house (not for much longer). He comes in to shower, to eat what he could find, to get new clothes and food in his backpack. You learned from my post that his entrance to house will soon cease, but he will likely sneak back for something around the house. He has done this at his brother’s home, and now my daughter in law called him out on it and told him not to come onto their premises ever again or she will call the police. My practice at home is to always close and lock a hallway door when I am leaving the house, so access to the back section of the house down the hall is not accessible to my son or anyone else. Only the living room, kitchen and a pass through room are open to him, besides the room he has occupied.

I read your story you shared (thank you for that) on my first thread (Losing Adult Child in Sept 28-30) about your oldest daughter, and much of her behavior was similar to my son. (the sleeping all day and night, lies, no job, moodiness, when in our home…not caring about his actions, what affect it all had on us.)

I had not really thought drugs were the thing with my Difficult Child, mainly because I had never seen it. But I have wondered and suspected, confronted him on it, which he denied (of course). Now in your current post you just gave a description … of the dress code … “dress code, hoody, backpack, baseball cap pulled low over the eyes, and sunglasses.” (You could have seen my son, perhaps?) Sometimes he does look like this ... but then the next day he could be dressed and groomed quite handsomely.

How I know the feeling well, when the Difficult Child has shown up at home when we are gone or away at work, or the midnight in/ out visits. With my son, he is still able to come into the house (not for much longer). He comes in to shower, to eat what he could find, to get new clothes and food in his backpack. You learned from my post that his entrance to house will soon cease, but he will likely sneak back for something around the house. He has done this at his brother’s home, and now my daughter in law called him out on it and told him not to come onto their premises ever again or she will call the police. My practice at home is to always close and lock a hallway door when I am leaving the house, so access to the back section of the house down the hall is not accessible to my son or anyone else. Only the living room, kitchen and a pass through room are open to him, besides the room he has occupied.

I read your story you shared (thank you for that) on my first thread (Losing Adult Child in Sept 28-30) about your oldest daughter, and much of her behavior was similar to my son. (the sleeping all day and night, lies, no job, moodiness, when in our home…not caring about his actions, what affect it all had on us.)

I had not really thought drugs were a the thing with my Difficult Child, mainly because I had never seen it. But I have wondered and suspected, confronted him on it, which he denied (of course). Now in your current post you just gave a description … of the dress code … “dress code, hoody, backpack, baseball cap pulled low over the eyes, and sunglasses.” (You could have seen my son, perhaps?) Sometimes he does look like this ... but then the next day he could be dressed and groomed quite handsomely.

Like you, I have finally (very recently) accepted that he is on his own path, and I have stopped the endless worrying about him and how I can help. I cannot help, and now I finally know that! I feel a bond regarding your situation … in the land of Aloha … I know OHANA. It is very hard (almost unheard) to put someone out. But these DCs are making their own choice to leave (or in my case, son is being asked to leave) their FOO, for their own good and for ours.

I understand your fear also of daughter’s return when you are not home… coming home to take advantage, to steal, and who knows what else. I can relate to sensing a danger when you do not and cannot trust someone. We are led to think It is not supposed to happen like this with our own children. Last night I roused from sleep as I heard my son open the refrig at 2:30am. Before my recent efforts to detach, I would have been wondering “what did he come back here for at that time of night? … What is he up to? Who is he with? Will he be safe? How does he get money? ” But last night, I just thought “same ole.. rinse / repeat”. This morning -- signs in his room (a new water bottle and new pile of dirty clothes) that he had been here, and gone again. Hmm? For how long? All the wondering… but I was glad he was not at home.

Once I finish moving him out and change lock, the return to enter the house won’t be happening (hopefully.) Son will still have access to the yard (he can hop over or squeeze through the fence if the gate is locked). Some of his things may still be left outside, and then there is the hose for showering (as you noted) if it comes to that. I have no answers except to take one day at a time, as I am working through similar situations and testing strategies with all the encouragement from PE.

I hold you in thoughts, New Leaf. Breathe. There's a sign I saw one day in town on the bus to work. I was asking for a sign to help me survive my worries about my Difficult Child, and I was literally given this street sign when I looked out the bus window. (It’s no longer on the street.) I couldn’t figure out if and how I could upload the picture to this thread, so I will try to figure out to send you the picture of the street sign by private message.

HUGS > to you New Leaf. Every day is a new day (Ka la hou)
 
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New Leaf

Well-Known Member
Aloha Kalahou, Thank you for your kindness in your reply, and the sign you sent. How wonderful to have answers such as this.
Like you, I have finally (very recently) accepted that he is on his own path, and I have stopped the endless worrying about him and how I can help. I cannot help, and now I finally know that! I feel a bond regarding your situation … in the land of Aloha … I know OHANA. It is very hard (almost unheard) to put someone out. But these DCs are making their own choice to leave (or in my case, son is being asked to leave) their FOO, for their own good and for ours.
This is very true. I think, this is a twisted, westernized idea of "Ohana" because looking into olelo noe'au (Hawaiian proverbs), old stories and legends, the expectation of ohana was to be a contributor. The concept of laulima (many hands working together) and other Hawaiian cultural values point to this as well. My d cs abused the value of ohana to their own selfish advantage. It is sad. I see it all the time. Folks into their 70's, 80's with d cs living at home using drugs and using them. I do not want this to happen to our family. I cannot see myself living with that now, and in my older age. I did not kick my daughter out. I gave her rules. She refused to follow them. She kicked herself out, to be able to continue her lifestyle. That is the way I look at it.

I have seen cousins change after they have had to leave their parents homes because their actions became so blatant. They put themselves out due to their addiction and behaviors.
They were on the streets.
Then, they went to rehab.
Now I see them functioning.
If they had remained at home, I do not think this would have happened.

I had not really thought drugs were the thing with my Difficult Child, mainly because I had never seen it. But I have wondered and suspected, confronted him on it, which he denied (of course). Now in your current post you just gave a description … of the dress code … “dress code, hoody, backpack, baseball cap pulled low over the eyes, and sunglasses.” (You could have seen my son, perhaps?) Sometimes he does look like this ... but then the next day he could be dressed and groomed quite handsomely.
This is the dress code. Yes. Tornado (my other d c) explained to me that meth users eyes become sensitive to light. That is why they dress this way and go out at night. Darkness conceals the things they do. I used to call my daughter, the night walker. When they are high, they stay up for days, so they carry essential items in their backpacks. That is why they can sleep for days. My daughter used to always say that she was sick. Actually, she was withdrawing.
They also shoplift and steal to pay for meth, it is expensive, and the longer they use, the more they need. It is like heroin, it gets to the point where they need to use, just to feel good enough to function. It is a vicious cycle.
My daughter fooled us for a long time, Kalahou. We didn't want to believe it ourselves. Heck, I didn't even know that I found an ice pipe, when I did. I had to look it up.
There are signs, they wont admit it, but there are signs.

I understand your fear also of daughter’s return when you are not home… coming home to take advantage, to steal, and who knows what else. I can relate to sensing a danger when you do not and cannot trust someone. We are led to think It is not supposed to happen like this with our own children. Last night I roused from sleep as I heard my son open the refrig at 2:30am. Before my recent efforts to detach, I would have been wondering “what did he come back here for at that time of night? … What is he up to? Who is he with? Will he be safe? How does he get money? ” But last night, I just thought “same ole.. rinse / repeat”. This morning -- signs in his room (a new water bottle and new pile of dirty clothes) that he had been here, and gone again. Hmm? For how long? All the wondering… but I was glad he was not at home.
Yes, we get used to the excuses, the strange comings and goings. The more I allowed it to go on, the more we were taken advantage of. Daughter would take things from her sister, brother. Steal cash, and blame them.
I didn't buy it, I knew it was her.
We were just so desperate to help her, we could not see the writing on the wall.

Once I finish moving him out and change lock, the return to enter the house won’t be happening (hopefully.) Son will still have access to the yard (he can hop over or squeeze through the fence if the gate is locked). Some of his things may still be left outside, and then there is the hose for showering (as you noted) if it comes to that. I have no answers except to take one day at a time, as I am working through similar situations and testing strategies with all the encouragement from PE.
Good Kalahou, no one, no one deserves to live this way. It is appalling and contrary to the real culture of old.

E ho‘ohuli ka lima i lalo.
Turn the hands down.
[When the palm of the hands face down they are occupied and productive.]

Hands down....not up
.
Hands up - constantly wanting, taking, is not cultural.
Hands down - working, helping, doing, that is cultural.

‘U‘uku ka hana, ‘u‘uku ka loa‘a.
Little work, little gain.
[You reap what you sow. If you give a little do not expect a large return.]


‘Ike aku, ‘ike mai. Kōkua aku, kōkua mai. Pēlā ka nohona ‘ohana.
Watch, observe. Help others and accept help. That is the family way.


I hold you in thoughts, New Leaf. Breathe. There's a sign I saw one day in town on the bus to work. I was asking for a sign to help me survive my worries about my Difficult Child, and I was literally given this street sign when I looked out the bus window. (It’s no longer on the street.) I couldn’t figure out if and how I could upload the picture to this thread, so I will try to figure out to send you the picture of the street sign by private message.
HUGS > to you New Leaf. Every day is a new day (Ka la hou)
I do have the picture, mahalo nui loa, Ka la hou. Thank you so very much for sending it. I am so blessed to have lived here long enough to recognize the gifts we receive from Ke Akua in signs, all around us.
Mahalo for sharing, the fact that it actually is a sign is priceless.

Anonymity is important, but I saw your name and knew, not who you are, but I knew.
(((Hugs and honi honi.)))

Meth in the islands is rampant. It started here.

From what I have learned of my hubs culture, by living where I do, and embracing it for myself and my children, I know that the Hawaiians of old, would not allow a disrespectful, lazy, inconsiderate, drug using adult child to remain in the home. I am talking of my daughter, for that is what she became.

Our cousins have said, "Why don't you put up a tent in the back for her?" I say, "Because I cannot, and will not tolerate her actions."

I do not mind helping my adult children who are trying to help themselves.
The concept of "Ohana" where multi generational families live together, tutus, makua, keiki, is magical, as long as everyone is helping. As long as everyone is respectful, following rules, working together.

Anything less than that,is disrespectful to the old traditions and values, and most of all, the whole and true meaning of ALOHA.

Mahalo nui Ka la hou
Me ke Aloha
Malama pono, A hui hou
leafy
 

New Leaf

Well-Known Member
A moment ago, a neighbor called.
I would not normally be home.
She calmly said
"I just dropped off your daughter in front of your house, she looks pretty bad."
Thanking my neighbor, I took a deep breath, said a prayer and went looking for her. She was up the road, lost, turned away from me, backpack, bags in both hands, she could not face me.
I went to her and hugged her. I took her bags from her hands and hugged her again and she broke down sobbing. I grabbed her hand and told her to come inside the house and get cleaned up.
She is bloodied about the face.
A wounded soul.

She is my daughter.

But she cannot stay here.

I will have to see if I can get her to go to rehab, or somewhere.
I am numb.
My heart is not breaking,
for I have seen this before.
But my stomach is sore, my na' auao.
The innards, the seat of emotion, churning.

Please say a prayer for us sisters.
This is the part that wears me down.
To have to be strong in the face of this.
I must be it, and resolute.
It is what I miss the most about her,
the strength.

So I must be it.

God.

Please.

Help.

Amen

Leafy

I told her to take a shower, gave her clothes I know I wouldn't see again.
When she came out, I told her I loved her.
I told her she was an adult, that our responsibility was to her brother, that all of the drama was not fair to him. I told her that I would always love her, that whatever mistakes I had made, I was sorry, but could not turn back the hands of time and change anything.
She said
"And I have to live with that everyday."
I was not abusive to her, I tried my best to raise her right.
We had many wonderful moments as a family, before drugs.
This is us, after drugs.

I spoke calmly with her and asked her what happened.
"He found me again."

"Who found you?
The guy that put you in the hospital?
Is that who hurt you? I'm going to call the police, this is assault."

She would not let me call the police

"You will only make it worse."
she said.

" What is happening to you? Why don't you want help?
You have a life, a beautiful soul!"

"Not anymore." she said.

She will not go to rehab,
or a dv shelter.
I told her that
she cannot
stay
here.

"I don't want to stay here."
She replied, flat
in a low
monotone
voice
her back
to me.
Then
disappeared
down
the
road,
taking
my
tears
with
her.


sadleafy
 

recoveringenabler

Well-Known Member
Staff member
Oh New Leaf, I have had similar conversations with my daughter..........my heart breaks for you......this is not how it is supposed to be for us as mothers of daughters or sons......but it is. You did what I would do too, be there in the moment, tell her you love her, hold on to her and then.........let her go. I know all too well that desperate feeling of sorrow, helplessness, loss of control, fear.........all of it. And, yet..........there is nothing more you can do. Nor I. They are grown women who get to choose their lifestyle....

I am so, so sorry New Leaf, so sorry for the pain of it.

I am saying a prayer for you and your daughter and sending you all of my heart felt care and warm hugs.......

Be so very kind to yourself now......VERY, VERY kind.
 

PatriotsGirl

Well-Known Member
This breaks my heart...does she not feel that she is deserving of a better life? That she can get clean? This post brought back memories - not good ones. Meth was my daughter's drug of choice. She has been clean over a year now. She has worked through some serious issues that caused her to use in the first place. She didn't think she deserved better, either, but she wanted to be clean. She wanted to be a mother to her son. Now she has experienced a different life and wants nothing to do with that old one.

I pray your daughter wants help... <3
 

New Leaf

Well-Known Member
Thank you Recovering, I have to pick myself up by the bootstraps and go in to work. I am blessed that my work mates understand, and that the kids are out of school today.

I am sorry for your pain as well.

It is a searing knife to the gut.

And yes, she is a grown woman.

After she left, the sky opened up, a heavy rain came down.
Loss, despair,
awash with sky tears.
Pelting upon my roof.
To the beat of my heart.


I stood my ground today
and did not let her stay.

My words
fell
upon
deaf
ears.

In silence,
I will pray

There is nothing I can do
There is nothing left to say

she
went
on
her
way

I will not be
torn with sorrow
over what may
be tomorrow.

I have
no choice
or voice
in this,
her
deep
dark
abyss.


Still,

The coldest, saddest feeling
sends my soul to reeling

Shed a tear, say a prayer
Sometimes life
is
just
not
fair.
Deep
Deep
breath
I must
have
faith.
Please
Lord
watch
over
her.
And
All
of
us.

leafy
 

New Leaf

Well-Known Member
This breaks my heart...does she not feel that she is deserving of a better life? That she can get clean? This post brought back memories - not good ones. Meth was my daughter's drug of choice. She has been clean over a year now. She has worked through some serious issues that caused her to use in the first place. She didn't think she deserved better, either, but she wanted to be clean. She wanted to be a mother to her son. Now she has experienced a different life and wants nothing to do with that old one.

I pray your daughter wants help... <3

She does not want help. as of yet.
Thank you for your kindness.
I find hope in your reply.
I'm sorry, I can't write anymore
I feel very, very small
leafy
 

recoveringenabler

Well-Known Member
Staff member
What helped me New Leaf, was to place my daughter in the hands of my perception of a Higher Power. And, to repeat the Serenity Prayer.
Bless you and your daughter.....
 
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