Under Ashley's influence, Mike started watching R-rated films. He is a big boy and can see whatever he likes, but he'd always been turned off by these types of movies in the past. I got the impression he was reliving his adolescence in a way he wasn't allowed to as a teen. I didn't think it was healthy for Ashley to watch these films, and I didn’t like the messages Mike was sending about the propriety of such garbage, but Mike was in charge. And I could leave it alone when they went to the cinema to see them. But when questionable videos, like The Mummy started coming home, it was time to draw a line. I protested that these films were too scary/violent/adult for four-year-olds to watch, and Ashley smugly suggested that I put them to bed early. This wasn't appropriate either- how unfair to kick the kids into their bedrooms just for Mike and Ashley's convenience. I was ticked off big time.
The days just sort of passed. Every weekday morning the Oakside van came for Ashley, and getting her out the door was a struggle. The highlight of her day seemed to be eating lunch with Ron with whom she was growing very close. The staff definitely frowned on day kids getting involved with inpatients, but our daughter made her own rules. Bart complained, but that was all it was- lip service. It felt like everyone was just biding time, waiting for some sort of explosion.
On Mondays Ashley had counseling with Kerri, followed by Bible study at Marilyn's house. Here too there were young men who interested her, although Marily knew of Ash's fondness for the opposite sex and kept a close eye on her. And in an odd coincidence, one of the girls who had helped her run away in April started attending our church and became a member of the study group too.
I was getting to know Marilyn, and I thought she was an intuitive and lively lady. She had grown up in an abusive family so she had a handle on what motivated Ashley. She told me in no uncertain terms that my girl needed me more than I realized, and I had to find a way to bridge the gap between the two of us. But I just couldn’t reach out to my daughter. There was too much hurt and anger, and as each day dawned there seemed to be no end of challenges to our relationship. Every moment I had to spend with her was fraught with tension.
Mike was the biggest challenge. In truth, I didn't see any change in Ashley from the secretive, sulking teen who had run away in March. Her behavior was atrocious, and her attitude was worse. Mike just turned a blind eye towards her waywardness, castigating me when she acted up. At the time, I didn’t know what was going on- I only knew that nothing was good between Mike and me or between Ashley and me, although it was hunky dory with them.
Despite my anger, I felt excluded, and it hurt. Not that I wanted to be around either of them, but it seemed as if they were closing ranks and forming their own little family unit. And Mike had several annoying habits that put me right into the center of things, but at the same time he was scolding me for not staying out of her affairs. It was a no-win situation.
Mike and I saw Kerri every Tuesday morning for marital counseling. She met with us separately and together, and by early September I think she had a pretty good grasp of background information. Both of us had alcoholic parents, and we each had an aggressive parent who was abusive to the other, more passive one. My parents drank, and my father often took his anger out on my mother by yelling at her and calling her foul names.
In Mike’s case, the bullying parent was his alcoholic mother who would scream at the family and blame Cal for her unhappiness. When Mike was a child, she had beat him every afternoon when he arrived home from school, and broke the kids toys when the stress got to be too much. I think he must’ve vowed his own family would not repeat this pattern, because he ruled us with an iron fist.
I also discovered that Mike had been molested as a child by a neighborhood teenager. It wasn't something he'd ever shared with me before, but he gave permission to Kerri to tell me. Mike didn't want to discuss it with me, and except in passing, I don't think he was willing to work on the issues in therapy. His unwillingness to seek treatment would bring a lot of heartache in the near future.
Mike had quite a few personality traits that made him difficult to live with, as I’m sure I do too. But because of the way his mother dominated the family, he looked at any self-sufficience in me as aggression and tried to snuff it out. There was no such thing as standing up for yourself, compromising to reach an amicably agreeable solution or just letting go of an argued-over position. In his eyes, he’s right and everyone else is wrong. I have basically put up with this for most of our married life. I don’t know whether I was a hopelessly optimistic person who just expected things to get better, or my rotten self-esteem beat me down from day in and day out stress, and I just closed my eyes. I kept trying to see the good in my husband, but the longer we were married, the less good there was to find. By this time, our marriage was in serious trouble, and dealing with Ashley as well was compounding the issues.
****TTFN,
Julie