Things have come to a head, and I feel I need to steel myself for some of the "toughest love" I've ever had to dish out. You all have given me many strengthening words in the past week, and I'd like to share here what happened, because I think some of you can relate to the GFGness of it. Youngest was back in the hospital Saturday, after being discharged Friday. Suspected another kidney stone, and another bad Urinary Tract Infection (UTI). The doctor recommended her admission. I stayed with the grandson most of the day Saturday, while her boyfriend was at the ER with her and getting her admitted. This was not a problem for me. There was a heated phone call between the boyfriend and me, where I told him to step up to the plate. He had been planning to go visit his family in Florida for Thanksgiving, and leave his sick, pregnant, girlfriend... NOT COOL.. I told him I would NOT put my Thanksgiving weekend plans on hold to take care of Youngest so that he could go away. He whined about his responsibilites as the "breadwinner" and not being able to miss work (didn't miss a single day while she was in the hospital last week) and how he hadn't seen his family since last Christmas, and I said, "welcome to adulthood. You don't get to see your out of town parents as often when you have your own family. I certainly didn't." He thinks that his sole job in this is to work and earn money to "put food on the table." Gah. I reminded him that right now they're living off of her foodstamps, he's not putting food on the table anyway (why not be literal?!) I also told him that as far as I could tell, he'd done NOTHING to help in the past week, because everyone else had stepped in. He said, if "people are there to help, why shouldn't I go to work?" Point. Missed. Anyway. Fast forward to that evening and the following: Youngest called me at 10:30 pm: "I have to leave the hospital. I can't stay here. I'm going to have a seizure."[translation: she's so upset she'll have one] I say, "whaat? Why would you leave if you're going to have a seizure? Don't you need to be there if you have a seizure? What are you talking about?" "I have to go! You don't understand! Are you going to pick me up or not?" "What?! No, I'm not going to pick you up.. tell me what's going on ... " "They're calling the doctor, and I'm leaving. If you won't pick me up, I'll find someone else!" CLICK. I am beyond.. something. Angry? Upset? Confused? I decide to go to bed and turn my phone off. Except, I can't bering myself to turn the phone off. So of course, it rings again. "Are you coming to get me or NOT?" "What's going on? I can't answer that until I know what's going on." "It's none of your... just come get me! Are you coming? They've already given me discharge papers... I can't do this (sob) ... are you coming?!" "What is going on? Tell me why you're leaving? I'm worried your medications are making you irrational..." [Ambien + pain medications = severe emotional otubreaks, at least in Oldest) "OK, mom. You're just a piece of S*** mom, everyone says so, even our pastor. I can't believe you won't come get me." CLICK. I am stunned, what the heck just happened?! What is WRONG with her? I'm having flashbacks to New Years Eve 2005 when Oldest pulled a similar stunt, calling me from the hospital while screaming at the nurses to discharge her AMA. I didn't go that time. The phone rings again. I answer (yeah, glutton for punishment). Sobbing. "Mom, please come get me." I ask again WHY she is leaving ... she says, "I can't stay here. I'm so worried about Grandson, and I can't sleep and I'm getting twitches, and they aren't doing anything for me here they can't do at home, just giving me IV fluids.. I dont' want to be here. I want to go. Dr. E said I could go, I talked to him. " I said, "don't you think it would have been nice if you'd told me all this in your FIRST phone call instead of DEMANDING I come get you?" "I'm sorry. I'm just so upset. Will you come get me?" "Fine. Have them take you to the front door of the hospital, I'm not coming in.. I'm in my pajamas and in bed, I need to get dressed." "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were asleep." "I"ve been asleep for 3 hours" (a half-truth.. I just just woken up after 3 hours of sleeping on the couch .. and was on my way to bed). So, I picked her up. The hospital is 5 minutes from my house, or quite honestly, I might not have. I probably should have not have. It turns out that her boyfriend went to work last night.. and left Aidan in the care of a neighbor. That set her off, partly. I picked her up, but couldn't stop crying at the ... absurdity, cruelty, unfreakingbelievable selfishness of it all. Mad at myself for picking her up anyway, and mad at her for treating me so badly. Youngest kept saying, "don't cry mom. I'm sorry." I told her I was incredibly hurt... she said, "I'm hurt too." I said, "well this isn't about you." She huffed. I can honestly say I felt my heart breaking in that moment. I do not deserve to be treated that way, period. How dare she call me a piece of **** mom. It hit me that this will not change, ever, unless I stop it. Period. No more hoping/waiting for appreciation. It's not coming. I mean, I knew that, but in that moment.. those words ringing in my ears.. it was just clearer than ever before. I've let it go on far too long. The walls need to go up.. and it will get worse before it gets better, I know. I have to find a way to let go of what other people might think of me when I refuse to help her, people that don't know the entire situation. I don't want to cut things off completely, for my grandson's sake .. but I need to figure out the lines, and just become a complete b**** at times. So, that's that. Thanks for reading, again.