Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul on Tough Stuff by Jack Canfield Read Free Book Online Page A

can do is listen to her babble when she’s high, and weep when she’s coming down, because I can’t fix her. All I can be is a friend to her until she realizes she has a problem, until she stops running from her daytime self to the lure of things that make her worries rest. I can’t make her stop. So it’s been hard, to have her pass out and the line go dead. To have her come to my house running on speed not to be with me, but so that she doesn’t get caught.
    It is my right to help her. And to point out to her how strong she is, how real and breathing and clear she is to me, and to everyone. She is calling for help but doesn’t know it yet. She is yelling and swallowing her tears, because somewhere she knows that she can’t keep packing herself away. Some time this anger or fury or sadness will find her, and she needs to stand in its torrential downpour and get filled by it, because somewhere inside her she is empty. I can’t be her mother, and I can’t be with her all the time, telling her what she can put in her body and what she can’t. So she has gotten lost somewhere in the deep end, and I can’t pull her out, but I can show her how she can do it herself.
    I am watching her, and I am hugging her and trying to remind her of the countless reasons why I am so much better from knowing her. I can listen to her when she needs me, and when she doesn’t. I can let her know that, no matter what she does, she is my friend, and nothing will change that. I can take a step back and see what’s taking parts of her away. I can encourage her to answer honestly when I ask how she is. I can remind her about moderation. I can point out the people who love her. I can show her how much she needs to stop for herself. I can be a positive influence on her. I can listen to her when her voice hints of this thing that she is missing and can’t find. She needs to see for herself that her daytime self is alive and beating and multicolored. I can help her remember what her life was like before the dealers and the midnight fixes. I can help her stand tall and strong, on feet and legs and ankles she trusts. I can help her see that life is not about three-hour solutions that make her wake up feeling dead. I can be someone safe to her. I can care about her so much that I point her to the exit and hold her hand as she gets there.
    My friend has a problem, and I am helping her. I am listening, and I am talking, and I am working with her, and I am learning how to be the best to her. I have unshakable confidence in her, and I know that she can stand where she is and she can stop. I can be the person she turns to, because she can’t see right now that she can turn to herself. She can’t see it yet, but soon.
    Kate Reder
    [EDITORS’ NOTE: If you have a friend who has a drug or drinking problem (or any problem that is causing himself or herself harm), it is absolutely necessary to speak with an adult about getting professional help for your friend. We have listed some hotline numbers and Web sites below that you can call, but it is important to speak to an adult you trust as soon as possible. ]
    Al-Anon/Alateen: 800-344-2666
For friends and family of people with drinking problems.
    Center for Substance Abuse Treatment: 800-662-HELP
    Alcoholics Anonymous: www.alcoholics-anonymous.org
    Narcotics Anonymous: www.na.org

The Man My Father Was
    My parents divorced when I was seven years old. This came as no surprise to everyone around them. My father had been an alcoholic for many years, and it was only a matter of time before it took its toll on their marriage. After the divorce, my mom remarried and my dad moved to a town about thirty minutes away. By the time I was twelve, I felt stable and even happy. I liked having two families.
    It was around this time that my dad was fired from his job of nearly ten years. We all knew that it was because of the drinking. We also knew that it would be hard