How could she?
Whether they are maligning her motherhood, bashing her husband, or just shaking their heads in horror, the heart of the matter with Diane Schuler always comes down to the question, “How could she?”
I understand this question. On a lower level of the same plane, I have asked it.
Her friends and family swore she could not have been drunk when she drove her car the wrong way on New York’s Taconic State Parkway for 2 miles before slamming head on into an SUV — killing her two year-old daughter, her three little nieces, herself and three people in the other car.
When the police said she had a blood alcohol level of more than twice the legal limit for drivers — the equivalent of 10 shots of vodka — her loved ones said the autopsy was wrong.
When the shattered vodka bottle was found in the wreckage, they knew there had to be some other explanation.
When the marijuana was found in her system they admitted she did like to smoke occasionally, to help her sleep at night, but never ever before driving children anywhere.
She had six grams of undigested alcohol in her stomach, the report said.
People accused the police of conspiracy.
The beast of alcoholism, I think, is Denial. It infects the alcoholic and everyone who loves her.
“Do you really believe they could not know?” the reporter is from U.S.A. Today, and she is asking me this question because I have agreed to be interviewed for a story she is doing in a follow up to the Schuler case.
“I believe it’s possible that she could be an alcoholic and the people who love her best would have no idea.”
“How is that possible? Couldn’t they smell it on her?”
Hmm. Good question.
“I’m not an expert on alcoholics, but when I saw the story in the news, saw her family swear up and down it couldn’t be, it was familiar. I have sung that tune.”
The problem, of course, is that no one wants to believe it.
She is a good mother. Good mothers aren’t alcoholics. Therefore she is not an alcoholic. No matter what the facts say.
The reporter has found me through Ellie, whom she interviewed first.
“Ellie agreed to be quoted,” the reporter said. “She was the only one I talked to who would.”
“I’m not surprised,” I said. Ellie’s devotion to pursuing the Beast is principled and unwavering.
“No more dirty little secrets,” Ellie says.
Because it is the dirty little secrets that end in mangled wrecks on highways.
“Yes, I believe she could hide it,” I said. “In part because they didn’t want to believe. Maybe she drank at night, hid the bottles. Maybe she changed her shirt, chewed gum, drank coffee. Whatever hints they had — a whiff of it, the sight of a bottle in a funny place — she told a story and they believed her. Because they wanted to. Because to not do so would be impolite.”
The friends, I said, never want to admit they had clues along the way. Because then they would be culpable in the events that followed.
Statistically, it is certain that some portion of the people who read this blog are active alcoholics who are in denial. Some part of them knows that they have a problem, but they’re hiding it and they think it’s working.
Some portion of the readers of this blog know someone who is an alcoholic, and they’re in denial, too. They’re ignoring clues, they’re choosing politeness over the safety of mothers and children — or anyone.
“I’ll never do it again,” I told the reporter. “I’ll never look away and decide it’s not my business, or that I’ll wait until I really know something is wrong. What I thought was the beginning of a potential problem was actually the end of a very long terrible road. If I had been a better friend, I wouldn’t have been polite. If I had been a better mother I wouldn’t have put my children in a bad situation just because my friend said she was up to it.”
Now I understand — what you see is the smallest part of what is going on. If there is a hint of trouble there is a very good possibility that a far greater trouble exists in secret.
“I really didn’t get it until I went to her first anniversary celebration at AA and heard her tell her story,” I tell the reporter. “It was astonishing. I was shocked at what had been going on that I had been oblivious to. And now I know that certain things just spell trouble, and any kind of habitual, secretive drinking or drugging means bad news.”
Some articles quote friends of Schuler saying she habitually smoked marijuana to help her sleep. That’s enough. Not if you’re polite, not if you’re in denial. But out here in the land of It-Happened, it’s enough reason not to leave your kids with a person. It’s enough reason to talk to her about addiction, to suggest that she get help. She shouldn’t need drugs to sleep.
How could she?
The answer probably is that she was sick. That her sickness led her to make disastrous choices. And that she had help in making them. Demonizing her won’t solve the problem.
So from me to you here’s the lesson: if you know someone who seems like she might have a problem with drugs or alcohol ask yourself what politeness is worth. If your friend is coming apart at the seams, if you know she’s lying to you — say something.
Because your denial won’t hold up the day It Happens. And her denial might not survive proof that she’s not covering it as well as she thinks she is.
Lastly, I want to take a second here to recognize El, and what tremendous courage she has. We all make mistakes, do things we wish we hadn’t. But only the most remarkable and brave among us turn those experiences into an opportunity to serve and improve life for others.
She’s out here slugging so it doesn’t have to be as bad for the next person. It is an honor and a privilege to be a part of that. So please take advantage. If you’re having a problem, hear her story and get yourself some help. If you think you may know someone who is having a problem, hear my story and don’t make her troubles worse — and jeopardize her life and others’ — with your politeness.
Check out Ellie’s side of this story on her blog, One Crafty Mother.
