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Daughter has moved back in
Dec. 10th, 2019 04:39 amHi everyone. . . .
Clearly I didn't get back in the habit of blogging a few months ago, and then things got very complicated. . . .
FoxGirl texted me approximately two months ago: "Can I come stay with you for a while?"
The only thing unusual about this was that she felt the need to ask. She has often stayed with me for a few days - or even a week at a time.
But this time was different. This time she needed to get completely out of her dad's house.
The details are too laborious to go into here. The short version is that the place had become toxic to her. Not because of any actual abuse, but from the deep clutter, her father's passive aggressiveness (which apparently has gotten worse over the past few years), and the presence of her dementia-inflicted grandfather. The last straw for her was when he ended up shouting from his bedroom that he was being held prisoner -- while FG's father and his partner were gone, leaving FG and her younger step-sibs to deal with it. For a young woman already dealing with anxiety and depression, it had become too much.
I've been happy to have her here. I'd been getting very lonely, and even though her queen sized mattress in my living room and the possessions she'd brought with her have been taking up half the living room of my one bedroom apartment I've felt more love and partnership than imposed on or crowded.
But yesterday, after a not-very-great day at work, I came home to find that she and a friend with a pickup truck had finally managed to clear everything out of her old room. And now half my apartment is crammed with her stuff.
I honestly don't begrudge her this, but it's stressful. I don't know how we're going to wedge everything in. Our best hope is to get a bedframe, put it on some risers, and stow as much as possible under her bed. If my apartment management saw the state of this place, I'd be in big trouble -- probably facing eviction if I didn't clear everything out.
A small storage unit may be necessary, but I'm hoping we don't have to do that.
Other daughter stresses include her not being employed (although she's made some applications), her re-ordered social security card not arriving when it was supposed to, and her dropping her class this quarter because of the housing upset. I'm worried about her. Once we get this situation a bit more under control, I'm going to strongly suggest again that in addition to her counseling to help process what was going on at the other house, and all the stuff she was pushing down and ignoring to cope there, that she get some very focused help on figuring out what she needs to do to help manage her mental health more generally. I don't know if this means a change in meds, but I am fairly certain she needs better tools to help her deal with stress and anxiety besides withdrawing into her online role playing games (although she does have wonderful friends with whom she interacts) and watching The Great British Bakeoff. There are far worse coping mechanisms to have, but if she wants to get into the professional program of her dreams and actually make it through successfully, she's got to get more help than I can give her.
I do want to reiterate that despite the stress of having her stuff in the living room, I am truly happy to have her here. She's a great partner: cooking most of the dinners, helping me keep the kitchen clean, taking out the trash, and etc. It's wonderful to come home to someone who loves me. I'd missed that. We get along very, very well and enjoy each other's company.
I just wish my apartment were a bit bigger.
Clearly I didn't get back in the habit of blogging a few months ago, and then things got very complicated. . . .
FoxGirl texted me approximately two months ago: "Can I come stay with you for a while?"
The only thing unusual about this was that she felt the need to ask. She has often stayed with me for a few days - or even a week at a time.
But this time was different. This time she needed to get completely out of her dad's house.
The details are too laborious to go into here. The short version is that the place had become toxic to her. Not because of any actual abuse, but from the deep clutter, her father's passive aggressiveness (which apparently has gotten worse over the past few years), and the presence of her dementia-inflicted grandfather. The last straw for her was when he ended up shouting from his bedroom that he was being held prisoner -- while FG's father and his partner were gone, leaving FG and her younger step-sibs to deal with it. For a young woman already dealing with anxiety and depression, it had become too much.
I've been happy to have her here. I'd been getting very lonely, and even though her queen sized mattress in my living room and the possessions she'd brought with her have been taking up half the living room of my one bedroom apartment I've felt more love and partnership than imposed on or crowded.
But yesterday, after a not-very-great day at work, I came home to find that she and a friend with a pickup truck had finally managed to clear everything out of her old room. And now half my apartment is crammed with her stuff.
I honestly don't begrudge her this, but it's stressful. I don't know how we're going to wedge everything in. Our best hope is to get a bedframe, put it on some risers, and stow as much as possible under her bed. If my apartment management saw the state of this place, I'd be in big trouble -- probably facing eviction if I didn't clear everything out.
A small storage unit may be necessary, but I'm hoping we don't have to do that.
Other daughter stresses include her not being employed (although she's made some applications), her re-ordered social security card not arriving when it was supposed to, and her dropping her class this quarter because of the housing upset. I'm worried about her. Once we get this situation a bit more under control, I'm going to strongly suggest again that in addition to her counseling to help process what was going on at the other house, and all the stuff she was pushing down and ignoring to cope there, that she get some very focused help on figuring out what she needs to do to help manage her mental health more generally. I don't know if this means a change in meds, but I am fairly certain she needs better tools to help her deal with stress and anxiety besides withdrawing into her online role playing games (although she does have wonderful friends with whom she interacts) and watching The Great British Bakeoff. There are far worse coping mechanisms to have, but if she wants to get into the professional program of her dreams and actually make it through successfully, she's got to get more help than I can give her.
I do want to reiterate that despite the stress of having her stuff in the living room, I am truly happy to have her here. She's a great partner: cooking most of the dinners, helping me keep the kitchen clean, taking out the trash, and etc. It's wonderful to come home to someone who loves me. I'd missed that. We get along very, very well and enjoy each other's company.
I just wish my apartment were a bit bigger.
