Since when have I ever had a plan that worked out?

I'm dying here. Not literally, of course. Except that I am... slowly... In another 50 years I'll be done for. (My grandmother lived to see 100 plus a couple months, so 101 for me isn't outside the realm of possibility.) Right now I'm dying from guilt and worry.

My already dead, black, crusty, ashen heart is hurting like hell. My kid ran away from me. Twice now. The first time she was gone for 6 weeks. I don't have any reason to think she'll last much more than that this time (but for the fact that her bio-sis has improved her manipulation skills). But we're on 2.5 weeks at this point, and there's no indication she's coming back any time soon. (No indication because we continue to talk via text or phone every few days.)

I think it's important to note that although I'm a crappy parent, my kid didn't run AWAY from me-- she ran TO her bio-family. And that's a huge pull for these kids. She feels she has an obligation--as the baby of her family--to take care of her older, lazy, breeder sister (25 and pregnant with her 5th kid). Why stay with me, go to high school, have limited responsibilities, have unlimited supplies of shampoo and conditioner... when you can go live with your sister and take care of her kids and support her emotionally and do her job for her and not graduate high school?

She's making poor decisions for herself when she's not really old enough to make those decisions. I'm the momma. I should just get the police and go get her and bring her home, right? Except that she'd probably just leave again. My thought here is that I should be the soft place for her to land when it all goes tits up with her sister. Which it undoubtedly will... Unless it doesn't.

I told my kid that I'm here for her, no matter what, and she can come home any time. But this house does not have a revolving door, so if she comes home again, she needs to stay home. I think somebody told me to say that. Probably my mother.

So I have a "plan." My "plan" is to give her 6-8 weeks to come home on her own, unless she stops going to school entirely or I find out that it is unsafe for her to be at her sister's. Although I already know it's unsafe at her sister's... I just don't know the degree of unsafety and whether it passes an acceptable level of unsafeness.

Ideally, my kid should be home with me, at least until she's graduated high school. I went into this wanting a daughter and grandkids and FAMILY. Cliche as it is, I didn't want to die alone. AND I thought I had something to offer. Turns out I was wrong. But I still have an obligation, despite the incredible struggles we've had. Alcohol. Drugs. Failing grades. Sex in my house which I witnessed with my own bleeding eyes. AWOLs. Lies. Boys hidden in closets. Cutting. Depression. ER visits and a hospital stay. This was way more than I'd bargained for. And her leaving gives me a bit of an out. And a bit of relief. And a whole helluvalotta guilt.