My own prison

When I started dating D. he was getting his life back together. He'd been sober this time around about 9 months and was sleeping in the locker room at work. Since he was single, it didn't matter. He had money to spare and was foot loose & fancy free. I changed all that.
We moved into his sisters empty house (she moved in with her mom when they found the cancer). I met his kids and it made me sad as hell that he rarely saw them due to stipulations in a divorce decree that he was too messed up to make sense of in 1997. It reminded me to much of my own dad leaving and I wasn't going to marry a man who would abandon his kids.
So, I found out about Texas Fathers for Equal Rights, an amazing organization that helped D. represent himself in court and win visitation of his children and eventually custody of N.
At first, N. was so nice and polite and respectful, but gradually that disappeared. D. let her get away with too many things and she has learned he doesn't really discipline her much. Part of this is the natural progression of 15-17 years old, but part is D.'s inconsistency.
The past few months have been hell and it's getting worse. Last night she got home at curfew and went straight to her room. We hadn't seen her in about 4 days because she'd been at her mom's and her sister's. D. got up after calling for her and not receiving an answer. He went in her room and got a weak greeting and was informed that she was getting in the shower. That was it. No communication, nothing.
I'm starting to feel like a landlord instead of a parent.
The school called on the last day of school before break and said she'd been absent again. I told D. this morning he'd better call them. He never does, he just lets her do whatever she wants, including not go to school.
We had gotten into an argument with her last week because she hadn't been working and was telling her dad that she never got any hours. Well, her job called her in and she told D. she wasn't going to go, that it was a waste of her time. When we told her she damn well better get her ass to work or she'd lose the priviledge of driving the truck, she started to cry. Crocodile Tears. Well, too damn bad, life is sooo hard, poor baby had to work 4 whole hours.
Anyway, so that's life right now, everything is nice and peaceful and fun, then the minute N. gets home, I tense up, waiting for whatever argument will come next. I hate this shit and it's all my doing. I should have just left well enough alone. I realize now that all the reasons N. gave for hating living with her mom are the same reasons she'd give now for hating living with us. I felt so sorry for her back then, so sure I could be a better mom than her own mother. ha! At this point, I think her moving in with us has done us all more harm than good.