Reviving Ophelia - Mary Bray Pipher [105]
Antoinette said, “She takes care of us and keeps things lively around here. She makes us laugh.” She stroked Bon-Bon thoughtfully as she talked. “Danielle has been quieter this year. We’ve had trouble keeping track of her. There have been nights she came in late and wouldn’t tell us where she’d been.”
“She’s been moodier,” Martin added. “But still, she’s not a rebellious girl. We’re proud of her.”
I was amused by how difficult it was for these parents to speak harshly of their daughter. I assured them that I too thought Danielle was marvelous. However, Danielle jumped in to argue with us. “I haven’t been a perfect daughter. I’ve lied to you and let you down.”
Martin said, “We weren’t prepared. The first time we smelled alcohol on Danielle’s breath we were too shocked to respond.”
“I got away with more than most kids because they couldn’t check on me.” Danielle continued, “I’m the one who drives in the family. I told them I was going one place and went another. If they called and caught me lying, I’d tell a bigger lie.”
Martin said, “Yes. Our car supposedly had ten flat tires this year. I checked with a friend and he told me this wasn’t likely.”
“Why did you start drinking?”
Danielle shrugged. “I always felt different from other kids. Everyone told me how much my folks depended on me, how important I was to them. In junior high I got sick of that. I wanted to be normal. All the normal kids were getting in trouble, and I thought, Why can’t I?”
I watched the parents’ faces as Danielle talked. Their faces were less guarded than those of sighted people. They had spent less time on impression management. Their faces showed curiosity, concern, pride and fear.
Danielle continued, “I know this sounds lame, but I like to get high. I like the experience of being relaxed and happy. I like marijuana too. It was wrong to be loaded and driving; I won’t do that again. But otherwise I don’t want to change. My parents want me to go into treatment, but it would wipe out their life savings. I won’t let them spend their money that way.”
Antoinette asked me, “What should we do to help Danielle?”
Martin looked hopefully in my direction. “Please reason with her. Her health is the most important thing to us.”
I thought Danielle used chemicals in an experimental and recreational way. I saw no reason to doubt her explanation that she wanted to be a normal kid. I suspected that she pressured herself to be an ideal daughter to these two loving parents. Perhaps I could help her lower her expectations of herself and also learn to relax in healthier ways.
I said that Danielle was already on her way to being more responsible about her alcohol use. She’d admitted she had a problem and talked about it with her family in an honest, open way. She’d promised not to drive and drink again. I agreed with the parents that her health was the most important thing, but I wasn’t sure that Danielle needed a treatment center. We could try therapy first.
Danielle picked Bon-Bon off her mother’s lap. “I’ll try therapy, but I want to pay for it myself.”
“No, no,” her parents said in unison. “We want to help you.” Martin came over and gave her a hug. So did Antoinette. I thought as I watched this family with their cat and their music that they were fortunate people.
KELLI (15)
Dressed in green polyester pants and a yellow golf shirt, Kevin looked provincial in spite of his international work as an agronomist. Roberta, who was a public health nurse, was sweet-faced and matronly. She began, “We found pot in Kelli’s bedroom.”
“We have known Kelli was on something for months now,” Kevin said. “She and her boyfriend, Brendan, act too goofy sometimes.”
I asked about alcohol, and Roberta said, “Kelli wouldn’t touch the stuff. She’s a vegetarian and hates alcohol and tobacco. She’s attracted to the drugs of the sixties. She’s a hippie at heart.”
Kelli was the youngest of three daughters. Her older sisters were smart, successful and attractive. Carolyn had been a straight-A student and a