*incoherent bawling and non-sensical screaming*
"junior, i can't understand you... stop."
*more crying and indistinguishable words*
"listen to me. i need you to stop, breathe, and talk so I can understand what you're saying. are you ok?"
"were you in an accident?"
"where are you?"
"I don't know."
"where's your car?"
"i don't know."
"i need you to look around and tell me what's around you."
This is to what I woke up this morning. These are not the kinds of phone calls I like this early in the morning. Being woke up from a dead sleep to the sound of your child shrieking and upset is a hell of a way to start the day.
Fortunately, I am well-schooled in Junior-psychobabble. She tends to freak out when she gets really scared or really mad. Unfortunately, I'm the one she calls to freak out on.
I finally got her to tell me where she was and what happened. She was partying with friends, and during the course of the night, she was robbed. She had just got paid, and the bank was closed, so she had several hundred dollars in her purse. She put it in her friend's aunt's car trunk where she thought it would be safe. The aunt took some of the others home, and sometime during her several-stop rounds, someone took the keys, got into the trunk and stole her money. She wasn't the only one robbed; another woman (the grandmother) lost a couple hundred, and some cell phones were taken.
So I pick her up. She's walking down the street in jeans, a tank top, and flippy shoes. No jacket; it's fairly chilly. She was a drunken mess. I get her into the jeep and she loses it again. Finally, I understand what's happened. Oh she's really something when she's upset. Add liquored up, and she's impossible.
I get her home, she's still crying and upset. This was the money she was going to give me for rent (yes she pays it) and her cell phone bill. She doesn't understand why people would do that to her; she wouldn't do that, has always worked for her money, and worked hard. And she's pretty much narrowed it down to the group of friends that she's been hanging out with for the last four years. So she's upset, and heart-broken at the same time. Along with that, the fellow she's been "going out" with walked out on her last night because she was upset and told her he couldn't deal with her like that. He called her later and started lecturing her on carrying money around and some other stuff I couldn't make out. I only heard the tone of voice in which he was speaking to her; I was not impressed.
I got her home and calmed down. She sat on the couch with me for awhile, like she was three again. We napped for awhile.
We got up later and went to find her car, go to the store and do some stuff around the house. She was feeling pretty bad yet, and was still upset. We talked; I tried to not lecture. She made some decisions and learned some pretty tough lessons today.
She knows her "friends" are not. They are "gangsta" wannabe hoodrats who do nothing but party and waste time. She is done with them. As she says, why should she hang with people who would be so shady to her?
She wants to not be in this town anymore. She finds nothing but trouble here, and she knows it.
She has to stop drinking. She keeps putting herself in places she doesn't need to be and is lucky she's not been hurt. She knows she has a problem. We've had this battle before. She gets it from her father.
She understands that yes, it was a fair bit of money, but she was fortunate. They didn't take her id, ss card, keys, or car. I finally got her to see that they could have messed with her credit, used the keys to break into our home, or stolen her car. They did it without harming her. She could have been raped, or killed.
Tonight she's better; this afternoon she was walking around like she was old and demented, with much regression to younger years and acting helpless. I tried to let her know that yes, she was a victim of a crime, but she does not need to remain a victim. I know it's hard; it fucks with your head.
I gave her money to fill up her car so she can get back and forth to work and school this week 'til she gets paid again. I bought her lunch stuff for this week, and we got some food for the house. She usually pays for her own; she's actually quite responsible about some things. It took about everything I made at the bar this weekend, but we didn't have much here but peanut butter and macaroni.
Before I left for work this afternoon, she gave me a hug and told me she was glad I heard the phone and answered it this morning. I said, "Who's your mom?" She said, "You are." "Who loves ya?" "You do." "Just remember that."
I hate the fact that this will begin her transition to grown-up life, and the realization that the world is not good, kind, and fair. She will lose that innocence and trust. *sigh*
So this week, we'll look at some other place to be and move on with life. Just like we always do.