Reviving Ophelia - Mary Bray Pipher [73]
As Myra’s anger waned, she had more energy for her own life. She mourned her past, but then she set some goals for her future. She improved her abysmal grades. She exercised and even considered going out for track. She fought back her fears and talked to kids in her classes.
AMY (12)
Joan brought Amy in for counseling because she and Chuck were divorcing. Last year Amy had been lively, lighthearted and fun-loving. This year she was quiet, withdrawn and serious.
Joan was an articulate schoolteacher who was venomous on the subject of her husband, Chuck. He was evil incarnate, the Adolf Hitler of husbands and without a good motive to his credit. She poured out her anger while Amy shrank deeper into my couch. Amy looked like she was evaporating as her mother talked, her serious little face grew smaller, her body more childlike.
Joan explained how she and Chuck had tried counseling, but that Chuck, even though he was a therapist himself, wouldn’t cooperate. She had done her best, but he sabotaged her efforts to save the family. And now that she had filed, he was doing everything he could to destroy her life and turn Amy against her.
Joan listed her concerns about Amy. She had lost five pounds since May. She wasn’t communicating and was avoiding friends and activities. Joan finished by saying, “I think she’s depressed by her dad’s behavior.”
I asked for examples of Chuck’s behavior. “Do you have all day?” Joan asked. “We’re fighting for custody and he keeps pressuring and bribing Amy to choose him. He puts me down constantly and he sets me up to be angry. Last week he called to change visitation three times. He disappoints Amy by not coming when he says he will.”
Weakly Amy protested, “He comes when he says.”
Joan continued as if she hadn’t heard. “We have psychologists evaluating Amy for the custody decision, but I wanted someone to help her with the stress of the divorce.”
With some reservations I asked to talk to Amy alone. In the last few months she’d talked to attorneys, judges and psychologists and her trust for adults was at an all-time low. From her point of view, I was just one more adult who was supposed to be helping but wasn’t.
I asked how her summer was going and she answered so softly I had to ask her to repeat herself. She said, “It’s rained a lot and I haven’t been able to swim as much as I like to.”
I thought she was giving careful answers to me and probably to everyone else as well. She’d learned that what she didn’t say didn’t get her in trouble. I talked to her about divorce, how it stresses out kids and makes them feel alone and weird. I said that I’d seen lots of kids who were sad and mad about their parents’ divorce. I told her about other kids in her predicament and I put happy endings on the stories. Amy relaxed as I talked and asked me questions about the kids in the stories. But when I asked about her, she resumed her frozen face.
I said, “Most kids hate to choose which parent to live with.”
“Both of them want me and I hate to hurt their feelings.” Amy shook her head miserably. “Besides, some days I hate Dad and some days I hate Mom. Some days I hate them both.”
I asked about living arrangements. “Mom and I still live at home for now. Dad has an apartment in the town where he works. I don’t know anyone there and I can’t stand his place. Mom says that she’ll have to move though, especially if Dad gets me.”
She sat up straight and said, “I don’t want to live with either of them right now. They’re both screwed up. I want to run away from home.”
We talked about running away—its dangers and appeals. Amy, like most twelve-year-olds, wanted to run to family. Older kids want to go to the coast or to move in with friends. Amy dreamed of going to her grandmother’s house in Minnesota. She asked for her parents’ permission, but both had wanted her with them this