Memoir – Page 5 – kindread spirits

Beautiful Boy by David Sheff

I put off reading this book for so long because I knew it would be difficult — and rightfully so. However, I do believe it is worth reading. It is the harrowing, true story (probably so much more harrowing because it’s true!) of a father whose son is addicted to methamphetamine. The account is painstaking and painful, recurrent and repetitive, really because the experience is. He tells of his son, Nic, who is a bright, talented, truly “beautiful” boy who maybe and maybe not because of his parents’ difficult divorce and their long-distance custody arrangement, begins to use marijuana. He quickly moves on to alcohol and other drugs and finally finds his true love in meth. And the drug, as it tends to do, takes over his life. When Nic is on the drug, he becomes a different person — cold, impervious, resentful and conniving and completely manipulates his friends and family to enable his drug use.

His is a typical story, evidently, and the author peppers the story with actual research statistics and theories and advice for other parents in the same situation. Mostly, though, it seems to be a catharsis for this father who writes as his way of coping. He offers frequently that there is no great advice and there is no single answer to what heals an addict. It seems there are some addicts who cannot be healed. Even with treatment and rehab there is relapse and it often seems truly hopeless.

Probably most importantly, the author stresses particularly at the end of the book, the importance of the family members to get treatment themselves. Being that closely tied to an addict can be just as “addictive” and destructive as being the addict. It can take over your life just as easily. This is an important message for those close to anyone with such an overwhelming disease.

As painful as this book was to read, I am so glad I did read it. I learned so much.

The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls

This book has been recommended to me for years and because I knew it would be disturbing, I sort of avoided it. But I finally resolved to read it and I’m glad I did. This is a true, autobiographical story about a girl raised by 2 parents who were, to say the least, unconventional in their philosophy on child-rearing. It begins with Jeanette, at the age of 3 years, trying to make herself a hot dog (because her mother was busy with her art) and burning herself on the stove to the point of needing to be hospitalized for weeks for burns and skin grafts. When she returns home, she is back at the stove, making another hot dog and cheered on by her mom who claims she should not be afraid of anything!

So begins a life of chaos. Jeanette’s mother is an artist and writer who does not believe in rules, structure or discipline and who clearly wrestles with depression. Her father is a brilliant man but cursed with alcoholism and is unable to maintain a job for any length of time. Whenever the family begins to get behind on paying the few bills that they actually pay, or gets in trouble with the law, the family picks up in the middle of the night, without packing anything, and moves to a new town to begin anew. The children frequently are hungry and forced to scavenge for food, in dumpsters, in the cafeteria garbage cans at school. They are frequently the target of derision and even violence by their peers, because of their abject poverty. What enables her to survive is the powerful bond between Jeanette and her siblings who protect each other fiercely.

And yet, what makes this story so moving and so engaging is the complex nature of the relationships between Jeanette, her siblings, and her parents. Like all people who do bad things (or make poor decisions), her parents are complicated. Her father, for example, who often drinks away the family’s money meant for food, also imparts wisdom to his children. On a particularly touching and moneyless Christmas Eve, he takes each of his children out to look at the stars and “gives” each of them their favorite star as a special present. There are these very touching moments that he does share with his children that make him a somewhat sympathetic figure.

So while I found myself yelling out loud at her parents and feeling aghast at some of her experiences, I understand why Jeanette had sympathy and love for her parents. They were still her parents, no matter how neglectful or irresponsible they were. She tells her story honestly and simply and vert clearly presents her struggle to love them in spite of her knowing even very early on that her parents were often wrong. Her story is probably more common than we would like to think as is this struggle.

I am glad that I finally made myself read this. It’s not easy, but I think it’s an important book to read.