A Parent's Guide for Suicidal and Depressed Teens (28 page)

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Authors: Kate Williams

Tags: #Family & Relationships, #Life Stages, #Teenagers, #Self-Help, #Depression, #test

BOOK: A Parent's Guide for Suicidal and Depressed Teens
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Page 161
I've learned that my daughter becomes suicidal when she feels that there's no way out, when she's gotten herself in a double bind and can't express the anger.
Double bind
is a psychology term for "being caught between a rock and a hard place." I think something like a double bind is experienced by young men who feel a heavy pressure not to show their feelings in order to fit into the macho role. This is a double bind because they do have feelings. Feeling down and blue is not macho. Boys need as much help as girls in learning how to express their feelings and value their true selves.
In the following journal entry, a man reflects on the pressure on young men to fit the macho role, to be sexual, even if it goes against other feelings:
It is 1964, and I am sitting in the back seat of a rusted, '56 Ford. Mickey is driving the car down Euclid Avenue, the red light district, and Frank is sitting in front with his arm cocked out the open window. They are two years older, initiating me into the world of sex and prostitution. Frank passes around a can of Stroh's beer. They urge me to relax, but I'm scared and stare out the window.
Finally, Mickey passes a woman he likes, hollers, "That one," and circles around the block until we pull up to the curb behind her.
The woman approaches. She wears a short red miniskirt and her blouse is unbuttoned enough to see that she's braless as she leans over to look
 
Page 162
inside the car. "Shove over boy," she says to Frank as she opens the car door and scoots in.
After a few blocks, I sit up and cross my arms over the front seat. I'm curious if she, too, is afraid, how can she be sure she'll get paid. When I ask, she reaches down to the floor as if she dropped a dime, then swirls up the point of a letter opener underneath my chin. "That's how," she says emphatically. I lift my chin up off its point.
"Jesus!" Mickey shouts. "Sit back and relax." I'm trying and look out the window.
The prostitute directs us to a gravel parking lot between two apartment buildings, and tells Frank and me to get out. I do exactly as I'm told and walk across the lot with Frank to stand against the wall of the other building. All I can see is Mickey's head above the front seat of the car. Someone peeks out from behind a curtain in one of the windows on the second floor apartment building.
Mickey comes out of the car in five minutes, grinning, buckling his trousers.... It's my turn. I feel sick to my stomach.
The car door is already opened and I hesitate. "Come on," she says and tells me to swing one leg over her as she hikes up her skirt. I can hardly find the right position and depend on her entirely to tell me what to do. Her eye shadow is smeared. I smell whiskey on her breath. She yanks at my belt, unzips my pants. This isn't the way I want it. She's soaking with sperm. I think I'm suppose to kiss, but there isn't any room here for feelings.

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