I'm a 40 year old recovering  addict/ alcoholic.14 months clean. I have one child, who is going on 20 in Sept. She has a 11 month old and a 1 week old. She has been with the father for the past 2 and half years. To make a long story short I lived with them to help with the first baby over Christmas into January. My life seemed to have purpose again, being a live in grandma. My daughters boyfriend came here from Mexico when he was 2. He is here on daca, his mother carries  much of the finances of the house hold working here illegally, and the father was deported over a year ago on dui, among other charges. I watched and observed  this different type of house hold function. I am white not of Hispanic  origin as well as my daughter. We come from a huge family with all kinds of quirks and substance abuse, narcissism , and mental illnesses. However my parents were quite stable and were a measuring rod I geuss, as to what's normal and acceptable, compared  to my extended family  who were all the varieties of hillbilly goodness. We were always very close with everyone. I tried to not judge the way my daughters house was functioning  as, I lived most of my life in addiction with co occuring disorders and my housing placement seemed to change every 3 years. I have already beat myself with the guilt  bat for how I lived my life with my daughter  and I won't pick that up again, but let's just say it felt like my daughter was the parent alot of times. I realized  that he was abusive to my daughter at the end of january. Physically,  mentally,  sexually, coercive.  This quite shy young man I met 2 years prior had true colors, that I was not personally afraid of in fact  I prayed he would touch me, instead he hit walls,  and I'm sure she paid for it too. I told them I'm not leaving with out my daughter, cops came , she defended, I asked her to come with  me and she would not. After family helped me get my stuff moved I remained in bed for all of Feb into march. I showered 3 times, and eventually  reengaged my therapy. I went into the darkest despair  I ever knew. I googled everything  I felt, and sentences  I was stuck on, regarding what to do, and what is this really. I read all the literature  on domestic  violent relationships, i realized  some of my actions were already in the zone for isolating her. I couldn't accept my daughter was retarted. I wanted to shake her and make her wake up. I would read the literature  with the tale tale signs of abusers and he matched every single one. I went back and analyzed my part in making this situation  possible. I was considering  checking into a place with more safety for myself and for the boyfriend. I won't go into the details but once I did accept  her decision  I was realizing I can only work on me and be an example. I would see her weekly with new black eyes and grab marks, that the baby gave her. Every time I would see her something new. Even as she was pregnant  again (after just 6 weeks of delivering  the first baby) there was undeniable  evidence he was hitting her. She would dissociate  when I would bring up the marks . I literally  could see her check out. Where is my Child!  Cps., has been involved, they clean house real good when a visit is on calender. I tried to check myself and view this with compassion  for all as he learned this from his father and the machismo  culture. He abuses his mother too. Filters the communication between them. He would stalk my posts on fb from her profile. He listens to her phone calls. I seen contemplation from her this Spring. However sources that were supposed to be helping ultimately  ruined her courage by not being mindful of how to talk with what number she calls from.  I can't be compassionate  as I'm a mom first and I had to leave the state for 3 months to get a perspective  shift. It felt like he would mark her before she saw me as a personal jab. I felt my center again while I was gone. I say again but it really might of been the first time in ever. I feared returning because I was afraid the chaos affecting my ability to see the hope I found in working on myself .  It has twisted me again for sure. I'm back just over a month and I have a new grandbaby  I'm trying to be there to help with. It just is so limited. He has her message me at 2 am to tell me the names I have between my grandson and I make him uncomfortable  and I can't use them anymore. I have back up with multiple witnesses that agree this is bs. He was recently  yelling at her behind the closed bedroom door telling her to shut up repeatedly,  when she came out all cry faced I told her its best that I leave. Oh but first she  has to drive his unliscenced ass  to get his drugs. So I watched the baby, they returned and I left.she knows she has help to leave but she doesn't want to. I've talked to her alone and not judging,  I told her my concerns for the kids and her, one time I told her he is gun a kill her and she started  crying saying don't say that. I often think my purpose is not written because I'm saving it for prison. But then she won't get what she needs to get from this experience .the victory  of knowing her worth and the pain of letting go, for everything  better. I don't want her to move on to the next abuser. All I can do now is go to my therapy,  work on my boundaries,  pray, and work on me.