Randy Kamen

Behind the Therapy Door


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by progressively challenging negative self-beliefs and overriding them with the use of affirmations.

      Anne began weaving her practice of abdominal breathing, meditation, and affirmations into her daily routine. At last, she had concrete tools to prevent or minimize her anxiety and support her as she confronted her smoking addiction. Armed with these strategies, Anne felt empowered to take greater responsibility for her health rather than relying on sheer willpower. Instead of feeling like a weak or bad person when she slipped, she would remind herself to get back to the practices that helped her feel strong and competent.

      Over the next few months, things began to change for Anne. She had backed off from Justin, found herself more relaxed and energized, and started to have inklings of wanting more out of life. As her emotions became more positive and her self-confidence improved, she became aware of her lack of friendships. She no longer wanted to isolate herself, but instead wished to cultivate a greater sense of belonging. The problem for Anne was figuring out how and where to begin her efforts to connect with others. I suggested that a good start would be for her to open up to me in the safety and privacy of the therapy room.

      Sharing Her Story

      Over the next weeks, Anne began talking more freely with me and with Stephen. I noticed that her face became brighter and her body less rigid. She said, “I’ve noticed I’m more aware of how I am feeling without having to numb myself with cigarettes. I’ve been paying attention to the thoughts that keep coming up in my mind. Maybe it’s because I’m no longer smoking, or maybe because I have options now when it comes to dealing with painful memories.” Anne slowly scanned my face. She breathed in deeply and then said she wanted to talk about her past.

      This was a breakthrough for her. “That’s great, Anne. We’ll move at whatever pace works best for you. If any topic feels too sensitive, we can stop and revisit it later.”

      She began: “I grew up in a middle-class town in Connecticut, the middle of five girls. Mother was strict and self-absorbed. She had rules about the way we dressed, spoke, and studied, and about whom we chose as friends. When we didn’t follow orders, we paid the consequences. It wasn’t uncommon for one of us to go to bed without dinner. She spanked us when we neglected our chores or disobeyed her commands. Beth and I got it the worst. On one or two occasions, Mother made me sit alone in the basement for hours. I think she forgot I was there, but I remember being terrified.

      “Father was nowhere to be found when she was doling out punishments. I remember wishing he would save us from her tyranny. Father was a gentle soul who loved us when he was around, but was usually consumed with his work. He hated her mood swings. We all did. She probably should have been on medication or in therapy, but those things weren’t common back then.

      “I think Father disappeared during her tirades because he couldn’t tolerate her fury and probably wanted to save his own neck. I never forgave him for not standing up to her or protecting us. I remember praying I could escape. I swore that once I left, I would never come back to that house of misery.”

      For the first time, I had some inkling of the emotional abuse that Anne and her sisters had suffered. Anne seemed relieved to be telling her story. After a reflective pause, I asked her to tell me more about her mother.

      “Mother came from an abusive background herself, but it was hard to take pity on her because she was so cruel. Her mother was an alcoholic and believed in corporal punishment, and her father remained distant and absorbed in his work. Mother never spoke much about her past. Everything was about her needs, and we were all little extensions of her. Our accomplishments became about her, and she expected perfection. We were well-mannered and well-dressed, got good grades, and took all kinds of lessons before money became an issue.

      “My baby sister, Kathryn, was Mother’s favorite and got treated with kid gloves. Ashley, one year my junior, kept to herself and remained under Mother’s radar, for the most part. She lives in North Carolina now with her family. Margaret, the eldest, helped my mother with all of us but eloped at eighteen and moved to California. Beth was nearly two years older than me. She and I were Mother’s main targets. I think we reminded her of her side of the family, and for some reason she hated us for that. Except for Kathryn, we all took turns on the hot seat, but Beth won the prize for being punished the most. No one called it abuse in those days, but Mother’s behavior certainly qualified.”

      “Tell me more about Beth,” I asked.

      Anne’s eyes welled up. “It still hurts every time I think about Beth. She was a good sister and we were close. We were partners in crime, even though we seldom dared to deliberately do anything wrong. Beth covered for me when she could. Unwisely, she bucked Mother’s authority. Beth pretended to be tough, like she wasn’t affected by Mother’s cruelty, but it was an act. Mother got to her in a big way.”

      Retreating into the Darkness

      “Beth aligned herself with Father, even though he wasn’t around much. After a while, he wasn’t around at all. We were all teenagers, except for Kathryn, who was only four when Father left. We all felt deserted, but Beth took it the hardest. Her world began to unravel. She shut down and retreated into the darkness.”

      “What do you mean, ‘She retreated into the darkness’?”

      “Beth was Father’s favorite, and when he left, she was devastated. Beth felt deeply rejected by his abandonment, and she knew that there was no longer any illusion of safety from Mother.”

      Several minutes of silence passed, and I asked Anne, “Can you tell me a little more about your father?”

      “I think he loved us but couldn’t handle Mother’s rage. He used to say, ‘I just want peace, love, and harmony.’ It was sweet the way he would say it, but he really felt that way. We looked like the perfect family when we went to church on Sundays. No one ever would have guessed the hell that went on at home.

      “I think Father began having an affair, as he disappeared for longer and longer stretches of time. Mother’s mood swings, especially after Kathryn was born, must have pushed him over the edge. I was about ten when Kathryn was born. The crazier Mother got, the more Father disappeared, until he finally bailed.

      “In the end, he probably just saved himself by leaving. He wanted to stay connected to us, but he didn’t want to negotiate visitation with Mother. That same year, Margaret eloped. Beth and I were in high school. Ashley was in her last year of middle school, and Kathryn was in preschool. It was the end of an era.”

      “That must have been so difficult for all of you. How did you feel about your father’s leaving?”

      “I hated him. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for leaving us alone with Mother. He would call, write letters apologizing, and repeatedly proclaim his love for us. He even told us he loved our mother. He just couldn’t handle her unpredictable tantrums. I never took his calls or responded to his letters. I could not understand how he chose to put his own needs first. It still infuriates me.”

      Being deserted by a parent can have devastating effects on children of any age. It leaves a deep wound that needs to be healed. Talking about the abandonment and understanding its effects are vital parts of resolving the losses and the accompanying emotions such as shock, confusion, guilt, fear, rage, and grief that a child experiences. It is not uncommon for the abandoned child to become depressed and suffer low self-esteem. This kind of loss can lead to feelings of distrust, resentment, and anger that often carry into adulthood.

      In subsequent sessions, Anne shared how much she had been thinking and dreaming about her family, Beth, and her father’s departure.

      Anne continued, “Not long after they divorced, Father remarried. Mother had to sell our beautiful home, and we moved to a small rented house, where Beth and I shared a room. Because of finances, I had to cut back on dance and piano lessons, which had always been my salvation. Mother went to work as a secretary and struggled to make ends meet. I knew that she felt enormous shame that our Father walked out on her and that our lifestyle had to change so drastically. We seldom went to church anymore or did things as a family. Mother’s moods became even more precarious. Publicly, however,