Sleepy Days, Come No More
Chapter 16
It was the beginning of my final month at the clinic and my progress had stalled. Dr. Meltzer and I continued to discuss my past and the matters that he classified as traumatic, but he consistently voiced his concerns about my `emotional aloofness'. I began to be more expressive in group, though I still had not divulged the specifics of my circumstances, but it was a sexual abuse group, so it seemed a bit redundant to state the obvious. However, I was more vocal about the affects of sexual abuse on people and offered more support to the other members. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do, especially since I had so much experience in dealing with people who had similar problems.
Cassie and Ricky remained my closest associates at the clinic, but Chuck still sought me out for conversation and after our talk in the conservatory, I had become more approachable. On this particular morning I had breakfast with Cassie and Ricky and then attended an art class.
I had chosen to take up ceramics and was preparing my latest project for the kiln. After I added my piece to the shelf of things that were ready to be fired, I went into the mess room to clean up. There were a few other people in the room washing up as well, among them was Chuck.
"Good morning." I said cheerfully.
"Hey Steve." Chuck replied in somberly.
"I haven't seen you in a couple of days, is everything okay?" I asked.
"Yeah." He paused. "My dad died." He said casually.
"I am so sorry, Chuck. Um, I know this must be a difficult time for you, and there is really nothing that I can say but if you want to talk or just be with someone." I said.
"Thanks. I'll be okay, I haven't even spoken to him in years so whatever." He said with a forced smile.
"Well, the offer is still good." I said.
Later that day I attended my session with Dr. Meltzer, but this time it was different. As I entered the room I noticed that there were several extra chairs arranged in a sort of semicircle. I sat in one of the chairs, while Dr. Meltzer stood just outside of the circle.
"What is going on with the chairs?" I asked.
"Well, I have been thinking about the difficulties that we have been having with our sessions, so I wanted to explore some alternative methods." He said.
"Alternative methods, such as?" I asked.
"I want to use some role playing. Each of these chairs will represent a person in your life whom you have issues with. You will confront these people with your feelings and then you will sit in the chair that correlates to that person and address yourself as them." He explained.
"You must be kidding. Certainly I am not paying 60,000 a month to play make believe. I could have done that at home for free and what is the point of the extra chairs, I mean can't I be all of these different people from the same chair." I said with a chuckle.
"Steven, I understand your trepidation, but I really think that this method can be effective for you if you put forth the effort and open up." He said.
"So, I come to the clinic for depression and leave with dissociative personality disorder, I guess that is one way to assure repeat business." I said with a smile.
"Steven, I really want to try this." He said.
"Fine doctor, you are the expert." I said.
"Okay, let's start with your freshman psychology teacher. She will be the first chair and I want you to sit in the chair opposite the semicircle." He said
"My psychology teacher?" I asked.
"You mentioned that you had fallen ill and had missed a week of class, but that your instructor wouldn't allow you to reschedule an examine. I want you to start there." He instructed.
"Okay." I said as I stood and moved to the chair designated for Steven. Then I began, "Dr. Riley, I have been sick for a week and I have not been able to properly prepare for the examine and I was wondering if it would be possible for a reschedule?" I asked and then moved to the chair designated for Dr. Riley.
"Steven, yes, I received your email and I am sorry that you have been ill but my policy clearly states that unless you are sick the day of the examine then there can be no reschedule." I said as Dr. Riley.
"Yes, I understand that. But I have been sick through yesterday, which is outlined in my doctor's statement. So, I am completely ill prepared for the examine. Today is Friday, if I could just have the weekend, I am sure I could prepare. I could even do an essay test verses multiple choice or an essay on the materials, anything that you would prefer." I said.
"Steven, I understand your position, but the policy is the policy and I can't go against it." I said as Dr. Riley.
"Well, who made the policy?" I asked.
"I made the policy." Dr. Riley (me) said.
"So, it isn't a matter of can't it is a matter of won't." I said.
"I understand your predicament, but if I bend the rules for you then that wouldn't be fair to the other students." She said.
"But it would be fair if you revised your policy, and made these decisions on an individualized basis. I think that that would be fair to all of your students." I replied.
"No, I can't do that. Either you can take the test today or go to the infirmary and get a note." She said.
"But I told you that I am no longer sick." I said.
"Well, those are your options." She said.
"So, you would encourage me to go and lie to have the opportunity that you could easily give me?" I exclaimed.
"Steven you are a good student, I would hate to see you do poorly on this examine, the choice is yours." She said.
"That is terrible." I said.
"That is all I can do for you, if you are dissatisfied you can speak to my supervisor." She said.
"Yes, I think I will. Who would that be?" I asked.
"Dr. Marin Collins, the department head." She said.
"That was all." I said.
"Very good Steven. That is the exactly what I want you to do." He said.
"Okay." I said.
"Okay, now we will move on to your family. The first chair will be your uncle, the second your grandmother, the third your father, and the last your mother." He explained. "I want you to discuss with each, how they have treated you and how it made you feel." He said.
"Okay." I said.
I turned and faced the first chair, I felt very uncomfortable, but I went ahead. "You sexually assaulted me; it made me feel very badly. It has made it difficult for me to be sexually active with others. Um, I asked you to stop but you wouldn't. You were mean to me for no reason. And you never said sorry, you only excused your behavior." I said.
"That was a long time ago. It happened to me, it happened to you. We just need to move on. We are family and family sticks together. I don't want to talk about it anymore." I said as my uncle.
"How do you feel about your uncle's response?" Dr. Meltzer asked.
"It is his perspective; he is allowed to have one." I said.
"Okay, please move to the next person." He instructed.
"Grandma, I think that you acted poorly. I feel that you should have done more to assure that I was no longer abused by your son." I paused. "You knew what was going on and still allowed me to be left alone with him, because of you I was abused for much longer than I had to be. Because of your choice to protect him and sacrifice me, we no longer have a relationship. You were once the person I respected most, you taught me how to speak well and how to carry myself with dignity and pride. But because you did this I lost the person who I am most like and the grandmother that I was closest to." I said.
"Steven, I love you. I tried the best I could, what was I suppose to do turn my son into the police, he's my baby. You have to let this go, you just have to." Grandma's response.
"Can you tell me how you feel about your grandmother's response?" Dr. Meltzer asked.
"She had to protect her son; I guess that is what good mothers do." I said.
"Is that all?" Dr. Meltzer asked.
"Yes. May I move on?" I asked.
"Sure." Dr. Meltzer said.
"Daddy, I am upset with you, because you left me and didn't help me when I asked you to. I am upset that you criticized everything I ever wanted to do or that you always had to make everything a competition that you had to win. I hate how every positive thing you say to me is accompanied by a negative statement." I paused. "Like the time you told me that you didn't like me and that I was smart but all the smart kids you grew up with ended up on drugs and in the gutter, suggesting that I would too. I hated that you always fought with my mother. I hated that you always put me in the middle of your problems, yet you never once came to my aid when she was abusing me. I hate all of the snide remarks about manhood, like I am not one because I was molested. I hate that you have dismissed my sexuality as mere confusion, saying that it is a result of my molestation but when I asked for counseling for my depression and anger you told me to man up. I hate that you constantly threw my trauma in my mother's face as if it was some type of an affront against you but you never allowed me to express how I felt about it and now I don't even know anymore. I hate that you are my favorite parent just because you have been the least abusive of the two." I exclaimed.
"All you remember is the bad things. I made sure you had food on the table, a nice home, and nice clothes. You never wanted for anything. I dropped out of college and got a job for you. I stayed with your mother for you. You begged me to come back and live with you and I did that for you. That is more than my father ever did for me. I had to get everything on my own. I have been beaten and abused too, but that has only made me stronger. You are my son, you need to man up and stop letting little shit upset you. Everybody has their problems but real men rise above them. And you are not a fag; you come from me so how can you be anything less than a man." Dad's response.
"Steven do you want to take a break?" Dr. Meltzer asked.
"No, let's finish this so we can move on." I said.
"Okay, your mother is next." Dr. Meltzer said.
I took a deep breath and waited for a moment, and then said, "You were a horrible mother to me. You were cruel without cause. You made my childhood and adolescence miserable. Sometimes when I'm around you I still am filled with fear and anxiety, thinking that you are going to say something or do something to hurt me. I spent my life altering myself in attempts to appease you, until I don't even know who I am, and it still wasn't enough." There was a brief silence. "I have always done everything I could for you. I have gone against my father for you; I have defended you to others. I hate your mother for abusing you and your stepfather, but you have given me little love or sympathy. And every time I am ready to eliminate you from my life you do something nice to make me think there is hope only to hurt me again." I paused. "I hate you. I hate your voice. I hate that you treat me like crap, yet you have all the sympathy in the world for others. I hate that you not only looked the other way when I was being abused by your brother, despite my many pleas for help, but you added to my troubles with your own cruelty. I hate that you fucked me over, but I feel guilty about being angry with you. I hate that you refuse to accept any accountability for your behavior. That you act as if it is simply my problem. You are a bitch and I hope you." I stopped in mid sentence. I was so angry I was shaking.
"Steven do you need a break?" Dr. Meltzer asked.
"No. I am fine, it is only pretend." I said dryly.
"Alright, continue." Dr. Meltzer said.
"You make me sick. That is all you ever do is complain. It is always everyone else's fault. If you are unhappy look in the mirror that's the problem. You act like such a little bitch. I hate you. You hear me I hate you." Mother's response.
There was an intense silence, and then Dr. Meltzer spoke.
"Steven how do you feel about your mother's reaction?" He asked.
"I don't feel anything about it." I said.
"You seemed upset. You used the word hate several times in your address to your mother." He said.
"Doctor, enough. This not real it was just a little game that I humored, strictly for your benefit. Now, if we could please get back to reality and focus on the traditional method of therapy that we have used before this futile exercise." I said bluntly.
"Actually, I think that we should end here." He said.
"Okay." I said.
"Steven, I want you to think about what happened today." He said as we walked to the door.
I didn't give the session another thought, well that isn't exactly true. I did think about the session but whenever it entered my mind I quickly diverted my attention elsewhere.
I attended my meditation class and group therapy session. Then I went to dinner with Cassie and Ricky. Later we went to the recreation room and played cards with Tristan. That night I could not maintain sleep. I continued to have bizarre dreams about my family and Blake; I think Chuck may have even made an appearance.
The next morning I skipped breakfast for a last attempt at rest. I didn't leave my room until it was time for my next therapy session. As always I was greeted by Dr. Meltzer, wearing the same sympathetic smile.
I was pleased to see that there were two chairs facing each other, instead of a grouping. I was relieved that we were returning to the standard therapy method. I sat down and waited for Dr. Meltzer to join me, but he did not. He sat a few feet away from me in another chair.
"Steven I want to do one final role play." He said.
"I thought we established that that was a fruitless exercise. Why would I subject myself to this again?" I asked pointedly.
"Please, just one more." He said.
I chuckled in annoyance, "Sure, why not!" I said.
"Okay, this time I want you to confront yourself." He said.
"Excuse me?" I said.
"I want the pre-molestation Steven to confront the post-molestation Steven." He said.
"That sounds terrible. What possible point can that serve?" I asked.
"Well, during our sessions you describe yourself into different lights. There is the Steven before the molestation, who is happy, adventurous, confident, and strong; and then there is the post-molestation Steven who becomes gradually weaker and less confident, more self-isolated." He explained.
"So, you want me to regress to my three year old self and confront myself from age five to twenty-five? I asked incredulously.
"Let me clarify, when I say molestation I was referring specifically to the sexual assault, the penetrative stage, not the fondling, because that is when you noted that a change began." He expounded.
"Wow, just when I thought that it couldn't get any worse, you are truly an artist." I said sarcastically.
"Steven, what do you have to lose? Give it a try." He said.
I took a moment and then began, "Wow, you are at a mental hospital, what went wrong?" I asked with a laugh. "Okay seriously." I paused. "You should have told someone." I said as five year old Steven.
"I didn't want to get him in trouble, he begged me not to tell, and he looked so sad. I thought that I could handle it." I said.
"That was stupid. Now look at you. You are so stupid. You ruined our life, I mean look at you. You are in a mental hospital, you are always unhappy and lonely, it is pathetic. When I was in charge we were happy." Five year old Steven said.
"Well, I did what I thought was best. Um, there were hard decisions and I just wanted to manage them in the best possible way." I said.
"No, you sold us out for that loser. You sold us out." Five year old Steven exclaimed.
"What the hell do you know, you are just a child. I did the best I could. I took all the abuse and suffering, you had it easy. It is easy for you say these things because you did not have to endure them. You were shielded from it. I took it all and kept pushing." I exclaimed.
"No, I was there. I saw. I felt it too. You sold us out." Five year old Steven exclaimed.
"How, what did I do to sell us out?" I asked.
"You remember what you did. You remember how you lay across that couch. You remember." He paused. "Willing to give yourself away for a little attention." Five year old Steven said.
"There you go doctor you got me. Now I guess I should throw myself to the floor and cry." I exclaimed. "That confront yourself thing was really something. Now, we know don't we. I hate myself. Wow you are amazing, this was a real breakthrough." I said with a laugh. "Now you have revealed what I already knew!" I said with a smile.
"I'm going to step out for a few minutes, when I return I want to discuss what happened." He said as he stood and left the room.
I sat there for a few seconds and then I stood up and proceeded to his desk. I took a piece of paper and pen, I wrote that I would be unable to continue with this session today, and expressed my regrets. I placed the note on his desk and left.
I made it half way down the hall and realized that I couldn't do it. I couldn't just walk away. I couldn't dismiss my problems because they were inconvenient. I said that I wanted to deal with this and I needed to deal with this. I returned to the office and sat down.
When Dr. Meltzer returned, he sat across from me. "So, I would like you to tell me how you feel about the things that were said during the role playing activities." He said.
"Doctor, I am so tired. I was prepared to leave this session. I wrote you a neat little note and I left the room, but I am exhausted. This has been so exhausting. The last twenty years of my life have been a complete horror. Each year just getting worse and worse. The constant pretending and all the secrets. The shame and guilt. I'm ready to tell you everything, but I would like to say it as it comes." I said.
"Okay." He said.
"Well, before I was raped, I was happy and fearless. I guess it is easy to be when you are young. I always thought that I was capable of anything, that I was special. I never expected anything bad to happen to me, I never expected anyone to hurt me, because I was Steven." I paused. "When I was raped it shocked me. I was so ashamed and scared. To have someone just take something from you, someone who smiled at you all the time and who was always around. I remember after, I would gather all of my things, toys, coloring books; even my tooth brush and I would sleep with them. Because I thought someone might take them." I said.
"What being abused really did to me was make me doubt, at first it was small, but doubt is insidious it just works its way into every area of your life, the sexual abuse was the start of the doubt, but the emotional abuse was the worst. Being called stupid and bitch all the time. Having every dream smacked down. Little by little the doubt took more and more away from me until I didn't know myself." I said.
"And the more insecure I became the more I looked to them for validation, I tried to find myself in their eyes but all I ever found was disgust. The more they mistreated me and rejected me, the more desperate I became for their love. Even now I could be in a room with 10 people and 9 of them would tell me I am great but I would seek out the asshole who would tell me that I was worthless. There were always people around me who told me that I was special and that I could do anything, but I wanted to hear it from my parents." I exclaimed.
"Everything just seemed to happen so fast, one day I start getting molested, then my mother separates from my dad and becomes just a complete witch, then I change schools. It just seemed things just got worse and worse. I felt alone and scared, but I had to act strong because no one cared. I was so lonely and felt so deserted that over time I started to think of uncle as my friend. I thought that maybe he loved me. Maybe he was doing this because I was special. Toward the end I spent less and less time around him, and one day he was babysitting me and he was talking to some girl on the phone, and I got jealous. I thought that he would not want me anymore, so I lay across the sofa on my stomach and pretended that I was asleep, and he didn't make any advance toward me." I exclaimed.
"I felt so ashamed and rejected. I was so desperate that I was willing to sacrifice myself for a little attention, no matter what kind. I was willing to prostitute myself for a few kind words. It plays in my mind over and over; maybe that is who I really am, a whore." I exclaimed.
"You asked me why it is so hard to hold my family accountable for their actions, as long as it was my fault then it was in my control and that means that I could prevent it from happening again, but if I say that my family was wrong for treating me the way they did then I would have to accept that they didn't love me, and honestly I so want them to. I want there to be some reason for why they mistreated me, so I just said the reason was me." I confessed.
We continued to talk, we actually ran over our allotted time. I told him about how my mother found me and another boy fondling each other and that she asked me if someone had molested me and I told her yes. I told him how she wasn't even surprised and that she asked me if anyone else knew and I told her that her mother knew, and she yelled at me. I told him that after I told her, her only concern was how my father would react. She hadn't hugged me or told me it wasn't my fault she just let me stand there. And when my father came home and she told him, they promptly left to go talk to her mother and we never discussed it.
We talked about how my mother still associated with her mother and brother after it all happened, and when my dad confronted her about it she said it was her family. I told him how my uncle had made me feel like I was partially to blame for what had happened and that the longer I kept the secret the more at fault I felt.
After our session I was totally drained, but relieved too. I went to my room and took a shower and napped. I went to dinner and then I decided to go for a walk. Once I made it to the beach, I found Chuck sitting there alone.
"Good evening Chuck." I said.
"Hey Steve." He said.
"Do you want to be alone?" I asked.
"You can join if you want to." He replied.
"Okay." I said and sat next to him on the sand. "So, how are you feeling?" I asked.
"Weird." He admitted.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.
"No. Let us talk about you. That is something you seldom do, perhaps now that I am bereaved you will take pity on me and let me know something about you." He said.
I laughed, "Well, I have actually had a pretty productive day. And in truth you are partially responsible for it." I said.
"What, did you have some naughty dream about me last night?" He said with a grin.
"You wish." I said. "Remember that night you told me that you wanted to be like me or that you wished you had taken the course that I had taken?" I asked. He nodded yes. "That night you made me feel so ashamed. It made it harder for me to keep pretending and today I had a kind of breakthrough in therapy." I paused. "There is so little difference between you and me, between the entire group really. We all have the same demons, just different ways of coping with them." I said.
"Yeah, I slept with every guy who looked my way and snorted or smoked whatever I could get my hands on and you went to college and threw yourself into your work." He paused. "We are two peas in one pod." He said with a laugh.
"No, I mean it. After it happened I just thought that that was what every guy would want from me, that it was something I was expected to do or what I deserved. I remember, shortly after everything came out there were these two boys, about my age, 10 or 11. They were going into a stall together and they were touching each other, they were about to close the stall door when they saw me. They gestured for me to join them. I was so surprised and turned on. Not turned on in the way I get now, but just excited at the prospect of someone wanting me." I paused. "I thought about it for a second and decided not to do it, not because I didn't want to but because I knew that my dad would not want me to. When he found out that I had been abused, he looked at me with such regret, like I was ruined. I just didn't want him to have a reason to look at me like that again. So, I put aside what I wanted in hopes of redeeming myself in his eyes. And that is the only reason why I didn't become promiscuous, in that small moment, when I was 11, I decided my fate. Sometimes I wish I had gone in there." I confessed.
"It was more than that. You had to continue to make that decision. It was more than just one moment." He said.
"Yes, there were other moments and opportunities, but I was too much of a coward to act on them. I did not want to take the chance, I was too confused." I paused. "You admire me for making the opposite choices, but in truth you were a hell of a lot braver than me. You left. You took a leap and decided that you weren't going to allow yourself to be mistreated. I stayed. I stayed and things got worse and worse." I said.
There was a long silence and then Chuck spoke.
"I just can't believe he is dead, I mean I hated him, he fucked up my life, but he was still my dad. I still wanted him to love me. I thought maybe one day he would apologize, that he would make things better between us, and now he is dead." Chuck said as he began to sob softly. "It is really over. There will be no happy reunion, no tearful reconciliation. It is just over." He exclaimed.
I moved over closer to him and wrapped my arm around his shoulder. He rested his head against my chest, eventually falling into my lap, and he wept, very quietly. We sat there together in silence for hours. Then it began to rain. The cold drops of water falling on our skin caused us to stir.
Chuck raised his head from my lap and suggested that we go inside, but I refused. I was not ready to go back inside.
"When I was young I would stand on the porch and watch the rain. I used run out in my bare feet. The grass would tickle my toes as I sank into the squishy mud. Sometimes I would cry." I paused. "I felt so liberated out in the rain." I explained.
I took off my shoes and socks, and rose to my feet. I closed my eyes and spun around as the water saturated my clothes. I tilted my head and opened my mouth. Then I started to undress. I removed my shirt and pants, and then I slid out of my underwear. I stood there completely naked.
I ran about and bounced on the balls of my feet. I felt so exhilarated. I laughed without cause. I smiled broadly. Suddenly I opened my eyes and looked out on the sea and I wanted to be there. I ran and jumped into the water.
It was cold, but I did not care. I just floated there on my back and looked up at the dripping sky. It was black-blue with shades of purple and pink interlaced beyond the clouds. Occasionally there would be a sharp, bright streak of lightning that would illuminate the sky, followed by a loud roll of thunder that would shake the sea.
It was an incredible site. The sea had been transformed into a large mirror reflecting the active sky. I closed my eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply. I was so captivated by the scene that it took a while for me to notice that Chuck had joined me. We both floated there, looking up to the sky, naked.
Acknowledgement:
I don't know if this is the appropriate forum but I was extremely saddened by the death of Whitney Houston. Life can be full of hard times and music is one gift that has always helped me, and her voice will always be among my favorites, as well as the voice of Etta James, who also recently passed. I hope they both are at peace.
Appreciation:
Special thanks to Oscar, Clayton, Khalid, Lou, Fred, Vern, Joseph, Ed, Jake, Jim, JT and Mikal for all of the support and encouragement, I really appreciate you all.
Sincerest thanks to Nifty and all of the wonderful participants who make this site possible, from the generous donors to the archivists and administrators, you all are truly appreciated.
Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think, please forward any comments or feedback to bonotorros@yahoo.com.