The Flock

by Joan Frances Casey

  I have certainly seen patients outside my office in the past, particularly when working with delinquent teenagers. But this is different.

  First, I am working in an office rather than in a field setting, and presumably doing a different kind of social work.

  Next, I am really feeling my way with Jo. As she has pointed out, I spend more time with her than I do with anyone else. What would happen if I opened the door to outside time? I already have to deal with strange looks from some of my colleagues because of the attention and techniques I use with Jo. What would they say to even more “overinvolvement”?

  Finally, Jo has been abused over and over again by professionals. Some shared with her mother information she had given them in confidence. Still others seemed to care and then precipitously abandoned her. It is mandatory that I not get into a situation where I promise more than I can give.

  —

  JO FELT SURE THAT Lynn was refusing to see her outside the office because she didn’t love Jo the way Dr. Wilbur loved Sybil. Lynn said, “We can be friends, if you like, when the therapeutic part of our relationship is over.” Jo decided that this was a delaying tactic designed to give her empty hope. Jo thought that she was not worthy of anyone’s freely given affection, and now felt deceived whenever Lynn said how much she cared.

  “I wish you wouldn’t say that,” Jo told Lynn. “You wouldn’t care if I stopped coming to see you. You’d use all the time you now spend with me in some more productive way.” If Jo stopped therapy, she was sure that Lynn would chalk it up as an academic failure and go on with her life without a backward glance.

  Jo had fought knowing that the aching she felt when reading Sybil was her desire to be loved by Lynn. She knew she was too old for a mother and hadn’t wanted to discuss it with Lynn. But once the feeling was out, once Jo had ripped open the wound, she couldn’t leave it alone. She tried hard to accept intellectually Lynn’s reasons for not seeing her outside the office, but felt miserable about what she now perceived as Lynn’s rejection.

  Lynn’s talk of Jo’s “splendid strengths” and “all you have to offer the world” was empty. Lynn wasn’t interested in Jo in any meaningful way.

  “What’s the use of trying? The only person who ever loved me is dead; I might as well be dead too,” Jo thought. It was too late for regrets. She couldn’t think, couldn’t work; all she could do was hurt. She wanted to die.

  Soon she’d be going home to Richmond to visit her family and to visit her father’s grave. She decided to slash her wrists in the cemetery. She’d join the only person who could love her.

  DIARY    May 10, 1982

  For a month now, I have been dealing with the issue of outside time with Jo and trying to put it to rest. I know that she is infuriated and feels powerless. I know she totally misunderstands what I am saying to her. Perhaps I need to re-evaluate what is going on. It is obvious to me that Jo’s anguish is real and that she seems to be fast approaching some crisis point.

  Jo is leaving on Friday for a visit to Richmond. Before she goes, I will make one last attempt to confront and work through this problem. Renee said today, “I don’t see why this is such a big deal. Jo isn’t asking to live with you, for heaven’s sake. She’s just asking for an hour outside the office.”

  Maybe I am making too much of this. If a visit outside makes her more comfortable now, perhaps I can deal with the other issues later as they arise.

  —

  AT THE NEXT SESSION, Lynn started out, “Jo, tell me again why you want to see me away from the office.”

  Jo took a deep breath. Though she hated discussing her feelings, she knew nothing would matter after this weekend. “I’m afraid of what you’re really like outside the office,” she said. “I don’t know if you are real with me in here.

  “If you did spend some time with me outside the office,” Jo said, “I think I’d know that you care about me in a real, nonprofessional way. You’ve been trying to convince me for a year that I should have more of a sense of my worth, but how can I believe that people could really want to be with me if you aren’t?”

  Lynn looked directly at Jo and said, “OK, why don’t you come to my house for tea next Monday?”

  It was more than Jo could have asked for. Her fondest hope had been that Lynn might capitulate and agree to have coffee with her in the campus cafeteria. But Lynn was inviting her to her home! “Oh, Lynn, you don’t have to do that,” Jo said, feeling guiltier than ever about her desire. “I don’t want to intrude on your privacy.”

  “No, Jo,” Lynn said firmly, “if you’re going to see me outside the office, you’re going to see me in my natural environment. Come and see how I live.”

  Jo was confused by Lynn’s turnaround. “I think I changed her mind,” she thought with a shiver of delight. Throughout the weekend in Richmond, Jo mulled over her old fears and new feeling of power. Her plan of suicide was forgotten.

  —

  JO ARRIVED AT LYNN’S house a few minutes early and sat in the car, wondering if this would be yet one more experience that another personality would take away from her. When, five minutes later, Jo was still herself sitting in the car, she realized that she had been half-hoping that a less socially awkward personality would seize control. This was not to be.

  Though many of us watched through Jo’s eyes, this was to be her experience alone. Lynn had acquiesced to Jo. She had invited the Jo personality to her home. The rest of us wondered why anyone would want to socialize with a personality as inept as Jo, but we agreed to keep out of the way.

  Lynn seemed to anticipate Jo’s discomfort. “Come in, come in,” she greeted Jo’s knock at the door. “Sit anywhere,” she said, gesturing toward the living room, and went into the kitchen to make tea.

  Jo felt a little less anxious as she had a chance to take in her surroundings alone. She patted the scruffy dog, sat on the sofa, and felt calmed by the tinkling of wind chimes in the window. She had heard that sound when she talked to Lynn on the phone. In the future, she’d be able to visualize the brass chimes in the living room.

  Then she noticed a curious drawing framed on a table in the corner. Jo had the odd feeling that she ought to know the picture. Brightly colored flowers sprang from a dark box. A sense of upward motion filled the center of the drawing. Lynn returned with tea and retrieved the picture that had captured Jo’s attention. She sat next to Jo, the framed drawing on her lap.

  “I guess you didn’t see this, Jo,” Lynn said. “This was Missy’s Mother’s Day present to me. Well, actually, Renee gave it to me. Missy was brave enough to make it, but not brave enough to hand it to me herself.”

  Jo blushed deeply. This wasn’t the first time she had been confronted with the activities of unseen others. As usual, she apologized. “I’m very sorry, I’m sorry that you had to deal with that.” She shrugged helplessly. “I just didn’t know.”

  “You’re sorry?!” Lynn said sharply, then carefully modulated her tone when Jo flinched. “I thought the drawing was lovely and meaningful. Missy’s telling me that I’m like a mother to her, and she’s showing that she feels free enough to do artistic work. Don’t you see the significance of this picture? That box has hidden your secrets for years. Now beauty is coming out of it.” Jo nodded at Lynn’s interpretation. Still she felt ashamed.

  “You know,” Lynn said, “the Missy part of you has artistic talent. She just hasn’t had much time to let that talent mature.”

  Jo brushed this aside with even more embarrassment. She didn’t know how to deal with positive reactions to her own accomplishments; how was she supposed to feel when something nice was said about the personalities who stole her time?

  “I like your room,” Jo said, changing the subject. “Everything seems soft and quiet.” She surveyed again the muted colors and nubby textures, committing it all to memory.

  “I wasn’t allowed to sit in the living room when I was growing up,” she said, “but I wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. It was all so stiff and for
mal.

  “I like this room,” she said again. “It looks like you.”

  DIARY    May 20, 1982

  The first appointment after my visit with Jo at home—and we are all far more relaxed. Gone was Jo’s terrible tension of these last few months. And Renee finally told me today how despairing Jo had really been. Just before my capitulation, she said, Jo had made plans to kill herself on her father’s grave. “My visit to Richmond went a lot smoother without that little complication,” Renee said, laughing.

  I felt a lurch in my stomach at this revelation, but I also felt totally vindicated in my decision. No one in the group had attempted to manipulate me by telling me Jo’s plans beforehand.

  This was truly a milestone for Jo. In a last, desperate attempt, she had pleaded her case, fought it through, and won—thereby showing far more trust in herself and in me than she realizes even now. And I, seeing my action as an appropriate response to genuine need, also trust both of us more. That need has been satisfied in an open and direct way. Now we can get on to other issues. Whether or not we do more outside the office is secondary. I can’t help thinking, though, how healing it might be to have a weekend of therapy at the cottage.

  15.

  Jo’s visit with Lynn had an effect on all the personalities. Those personalities who had some internal contact all agreed that we would help Lynn help Jo if we could.

  None of the personalities ever expected that the opportunity to enjoy Lynn’s company outside her office would be repeated. Even Jo and Missy understood that their longing for more of Lynn’s time was unreasonable. No person could fill twenty-six years of lack. And each personality had learned from experience that it was less painful to set limits than to have some external person set limits for us. We would not ask for more from Lynn.

  One afternoon about a month later, the receptionist’s area outside Lynn’s office became unusually noisy. End-of-semester revelry erupted as the social-work and psychology students shouted down the hallways that freedom was theirs at last. Missy was terrified by the unexpected sounds and voices. Lynn’s reassurances failed to calm her.

  I apologized for Missy’s reaction. “I know it’s crazy,” I confided to Lynn, “but Missy still thinks that her mother might come storming into your office. She just flips out every time one of your students ignores the ‘in-session’ sign and comes in to say goodbye to you.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” Lynn said suddenly. “Why don’t I take Missy to the park tomorrow?” I was stunned by Lynn’s suggestion. Not only was she once again proposing to spend time with us outside the office, but she was apparently willing to be seen with Missy in public.

  Missy reveled in the relaxed visit with her friend and did nothing to embarrass the rest of the group. She enjoyed exploring the large quiet riverside park, feeding ducks and watching great freighters maneuver through the port.

  “Your daddy drove big boats like that,” Missy said. It had been a long time since she had seen her daddy, and she always visualized him on the deck of a ship, one day coming back to find her. Missy scanned the ship reflexively and then looked at Lynn. For the first time, she didn’t ache for Daddy’s rescue. Lynn and the “other girls” inside her took care of her now.

  A memory flowed over Missy. A large wooden casket, covered by a spray of gardenias, her father’s favorite flower. “He died,” Missy said softly, tears rolling down her cheeks. She put her head on Lynn’s shoulder, watched the ducks, and felt sad but safe.

  —

  JO KNEW THAT LYNN saw and celebrated the new strides she was making. Now, whenever Jo became aware in Lynn’s office, she was glad to be there and had no worries about what the others had done in her absence. She accepted that Lynn would continue to know her and love her for her own self.

  Jo strove harder than ever to cooperate. She agreed to let Lynn hypnotize her, although she wasn’t sure she was ready for it. The very thought of hypnosis made Jo feel clammy. Nevertheless, she was willing, in theory at least, to put irrational fear aside. She trusted Lynn now.

  Lynn welcomed Jo’s brave decision, but said they should try to work through her concerns first. Lynn spoke glowingly of the hypnotic experiences she had in training. “I felt terrific both during and after the hypnosis,” Lynn said. “I felt calm, relaxed; and the hypnotic suggestions helped me lose some weight.”

  Jo reasoned that, in her case, hypnosis would allow Lynn to communicate with the single, solid unconscious self that was her core and the core of the other personalities as well. The sooner Lynn gave her unconscious the message that she didn’t need other personalities, the better. Yet Jo remained frightened by the idea of hypnosis.

  As usual, the fear felt by the Jo personality bounced through the system and affected the other personalities. Though the group agreed not to interfere with the hypnosis, many of us felt trepidation. I searched for the meaning of the uncertainty but came up empty.

  “Have any of you ever been hypnotized before?” Lynn asked.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” I said. “Maybe it’s just a control issue. We all know that hypnosis means letting go to you. You know that I can usually take over the outside awareness when I want. Maybe I’m afraid that when you hypnotize Jo I’ll be stuck inside.

  “I do trust you,” I added with a smile, “but you know I’ve been the personality running this show for a long time.” I also explained that some of the other personalities might still be afraid that Lynn would destroy them while they were hypnotized and powerless.

  Lynn reminded me that she didn’t want to dispose of any personality. Integration, if it ever happened, was a process of everyone’s deciding to join together. No personality would be sacrificed.

  “Jo thinks we’ll all be gone someday, and she’ll be the only one left,” I said.

  “Jo still has a lot to learn, doesn’t she?” Lynn answered. I promised Lynn that we would all do our best.

  The next session, Jo stretched out on the rug, trying, but trembling. Lynn began speaking softly, her voice modulated to Jo’s breathing pattern. Jo’s trembling gave way to nervous giggling. She sat up. “I just can’t do it,” she said. “The way you are talking is so out of character. Usually you’re so quick that it scares me. This change seems ridiculous.”

  “Resistance!” said Lynn, and the word was enough to silence Jo’s friendly criticism of her technique.

  After a few more tries, Jo relaxed. Behind closed lids, she began to envision the lovely scene Lynn was describing.

  “You’re at the edge of the ocean,” Lynn said, and Jo imagined the sound of lapping waves.

  “You’re walking with bare feet in the sand,” Lynn murmured, “and feeling the water on your toes.” Jo could feel the sun on her back and the wonderful expanse of the sea at her feet.

  “This is real! It’s working,” Jo thought with disbelief, and then slipped peacefully into the scene in her mind. She no longer needed to concentrate on what Lynn was saying. The voice grew more distant. Peace.

  Then, suddenly, Jo felt slapped down by an icy wave. She fought to regain her hold, but the panic was stronger than she. She felt herself being dragged helplessly, ebbing away. “Help! I’m drowning,” Jo thought wildly, “I’m drowning in my self.”

  The Josie personality sat up, quick and tense. She felt the panic surge through her and looked for the only release she had ever known. “The wall!” Josie scrambled across the room and began hitting her head against the wall before Lynn had a chance to react.

  “Renee! Jo!” Lynn called, hoping that the system was sufficiently hypnotized that she could indeed call out another personality. But as Lynn pulled Josie from the wall, she realized that the other personalities were blocked by panic as usual. Josie struggled against Lynn’s embrace until the wild fear was gone and Missy could lean, exhausted, into the therapist’s arms.

  Jo knew that she had tried her hardest to cooperate with the hypnosis, and Lynn believed that. Lynn reassured her that what had happened had nothing to do with clini
cal resistance.

  “We have to figure out why you became so overwhelmed with fear,” Lynn said. “Let’s start at the beginning. Have you ever been hypnotized?”

  “No, never,” Jo said with certainty.

  “What was it like when you were going under?” Lynn asked.

  “I felt calm, at peace, and, at the start, a little amazed that the seashore scene felt so real,” Jo said, “and then there was this incredible fear and I was gone.”

  “What were you afraid of?” Lynn asked.

  Jo, her brow wrinkled, became lost in thought. “I know this sounds crazy,” she said finally, “but I was afraid that you might do something to hurt me.”

  “I don’t think that sounds crazy at all,” Lynn said. “How did you think I might hurt you?”

  Jo flinched. “I know you’d never hurt me.”

  Lynn wasn’t about to give up that easily. “Don’t worry about reassuring me,” Lynn said. “I know you know that you are safe with me, but in what way did you fantasize that I might hurt you?” Jo shook her head in response, but could tell that Lynn would not let it drop.

  “Let’s free-associate,” Lynn said. “What does the hypnosis bring to mind?”

  Jo relaxed and let the responses come uncensored. “It makes me think of the ocean; you know I love the sea.”

  “Listen to my words,” Lynn said, and repeated key phrases softly, as she had done during the hypnosis. “Listen to my voice. You’re safe here.”

  Jo stiffened. “Larry!” she cried out, pleased that a memory had been evoked, but more perplexed than ever. What did her high-school psychology teacher—her favorite teacher—have to do with this?

  “When did Larry say those words?” Lynn asked. Something in the therapist’s weary tone made Jo think that Lynn had some idea of the answer. Jo ignored this for the present. Discovering and tracing a memory was a new experience for her. She didn’t want to lose her train of thought.