Therapy

One day shortly after returning from that trip, I got Marisa, Matt and myself into family therapy. I think many professionals would agree that was a very wise choice.
I called a local woman who specialized in addiction in the family, or so she said.

It was a MISTAKE. I'm not sure if it's because she was in Malibu, and believe me I have spoken to more than one professional in the field who have told me that many doctors would not consider setting up a practice here because of the calibre of help given by the local doctors, etc.

Well, I hadn't realized that at the time, I just wanted to heal the family the only way I knew how. I went alone and several times I took the two kids.
The advice that I was given was the beginning of the end of my happy marriage.

This woman who was my first therapist, was telling me what to do. Something I later learned is not done. I was so desperate to "fix" the situation at home that I listened to everything she told me to do. Including leaving Bob at home and going on our planned vacation to Hawaii without him.

At the time, she told me it was the only way to assert myself and it would be a lesson for him that he could no longer rage against me verbally, which was happening a lot since his relapse. Bottom line is all roads were leading to the end of the marriage.

Looking back it seemed ridiculous because neither one of us were planning on ending the marriage at that time. We loved each other, but couldn't tolerate the behaviour.
Quite a conundrum to put it mildly. It was almost like my therapist wanted to break up the marriage. She did nothing that I can recall to help me save it.

After a few short visits Matt refused to go back to see her and so did Marisa. We never did get any help as a family, or help as individuals for that matter. It just made things harder at home.

I just terminated the sessions and was left to try and pick up the pieces myself.

What does a family do when there are addiction problems? Everyone agrees that it is not easy to be married or in a relationship with a practicing addict, but here we were once more, Bob wasn't drinking, he was just so angry all the time.

It was the year that Bob and I started fighting more and more about his daughter, which had become a really hot topic of conversation from this point up until the end.

He would go on and on about her and how he felt used. He could say whatever and all I could do was just listen, because if I said one thing he didn't like, he would turn the fight on me. I wasn't used to fighting about his daughter, we always got along great. For all the years she didn't want to come to our house I could always manage something to say to put the fire out in his head. I could no longer do that.
The truth was starring him in the face.

She would not speak to him, the family condoned it, and he was still giving her money through his father. The resentments were mounting, and I can't say I didn't agree.

I must say, if my child did to me what she did to him I would have stopped paying her tuition and let her mother deal with it. But once again Bob was always filled with guilt. He didn't know how to stick up for what was right because of it.
She simply got her cake and she got to eat it too.

That year was the ultimate slap in his face, he was never comfortable with confronting Marisa or her mother, who actually was quite happy to encourage the bad behavior of Marisa, that was until just about one year into the silence that Marisa had a car fire after installing a new radio in her car.

Now she finally needed something from her father bad enough to finally give him a call. Bob was so happy to talk to her he welcomed the fact that she was only calling because she needed something from him.

Her car was totaled and he was the registered owner. The insurance money was going to be sent to him. I guess she didn't hate him enough not to need the money for a new car. Her mom would put in half for the new car and if he agreed to give her back the insurance money that would buy her a new Jeep. As usual he told her of course. What he told me was a totally different story.

Once again I got the brunt of his true feelings. He was pretty disgusted with her and her mom hitting him up for the money. After all, didn't Marisa tell us all that her Mom was going to take care of everything for her and she didn't need him any longer? And on and on and on. He was always treated that way. Once she even told us that we got her all the cool stuff and her Mom would buy her the basics, pajama's underwear stuff like that.
I have a feeling that year was hard for her without that credit card of his soon after that she got the use of it back. Some things never change.
She was speaking to him again and using his money again. Funny how that worked out.
A pattern that never ended.

Birthday Lunch

To say that coming home was a very difficult time would be an understatement.
I was simply devestated by all that had gone on between Bob and Marisa and Bob and I.

I felt so sad that Marisa and Bob were totally estranged from one another. I decided that I did not want to celbrate my birthday that year. It didn't feel like anything that I wanted to do. It was a very sad time for us all. I guess I never really understood the resentment that Marisa had for her father. I really thought she loved him so much. I remembered her as a loving little girl who just adored her Daddy.

Of course time had gone by and things do change, but never did his love, adoration or support for her ever faulter, so I didn't see this coming.

Getting together with our family was always the best of times. This year would be more than difficult so I just told the family I wasn't going to celebrate and I didn't.

I did go to lunch with Marisa alone to celebrate my birthday. I really wanted to remain close to her inspite of everything that was going on. At this point I had no harsh feeling toward her I sympathized with her. Loosing the love of your parent is a very big deal in one's life and to actually bring this upon yourself is an entirely different matter. He still loved her and would have gotten over everything in a heartbeat, she would be the one who would be difficult to sway. I was hoping beyond hope that I could be the Peacemaker between them. I would learn that wasn't going to happen at least not at this lunch.

At that lunch we talked about everything that had happened in Paris of course, but the one thing that stands out in my mind just as clear as the day she uttered it were the following words.

In the middle of discussing everything Marisa uttered "I'm cold like Bonnie".
I managed to keep my mouth shut but inside I was shocked. I never forgot that because I went back home and told Bob.
I was literally crying because that was the most tragic statement I had ever heard come out of a brilliant young girl.

Here was a girl I admired more than anyone. I actually looked up to her. I admired how she worked hard at School got into Stanford, even if it wasn't her first choice, I was impressed. I had always been so proud of her and was willing to overlook the entire episode of wanting to leave her dad in Paris because emotions were running high and I thought we would all heal sooner than later.

But the sad reality was that she had no intention of ever speaking to him, at least not for a long time. I thought it would blow over, but I knew it wasn't going too.

Something always happened to me when anyone was upset with Bob, I always defended him because I believed in him so much.
I had no influence over his daughter. It was never more clear that from the point of her return home all her decisions were going to be talked over with her Mom and probably her other family members. There wasn't going to be forgivness going on.
Her Mom wasn't going to pay for everything as Marisa had imagined, but she did contact Bob's father for his half and now Marisa had no reason to talk to him at all.
Bob's dad would give her mom a check every month and Bob would reimburse him.
I guess it was always about the money.
Even though Marisa was over 18 and he legally didn't have to support her at all, especially if she didn't want to deal with him. He couldn't not support her as he had always done.
His father was trying to make things better by pretending that the money was coming from him, but it only made the distance between Bob and his daughter broader.

I went home and really felt very sorry for Bob, I started to cry as I told him about my conversation with Marisa at lunch. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we all better get into therapy and fast. This was not good. Marisa was being incouraged to ingore her dad, but take the money.

I called the pyscologist.