Thursday, August 7, 2014

Unexpected and Unexplained Wrath



Today we are back in Dayton, Ohio, in March 1967. I’ve returned from Washington, D. C., where I visited a friend earlier in the month. She had helped me understand that I needed professional help.
         I know now—after sessions with two psychiatrists in Dayton, one in New Hampshire, and a psychiatrist and counselor in Minnesota, and after having two spiritual directors—that I had deep-seated problems unconnected with the convent. The convent simply exacerbated my fear of betrayal and my belief that I was both unlovable and worthless.
         My friend had searched for and found a Roman Catholic psychiatrist who, she thought, might understand nuns; who might appreciate their answering a call to the religious life and, hopefully, their answering their own inner call to leave that life.
         Several of you in the past have commented on my memory. And it’s true that I have a good one. Often I can remember the whole of a conversation because since first engaging in it, I’ve often repeated it to myself. But with this psychiatrist all I can remember is the content of what he said and my response.
         I entered his office with some trepidation. At that time seeing a psychiatrist was something rich people did. People who wanted Freudian analysis. I wasn’t rich and I knew nothing of Freud.
         Also, at that time, most people I knew believed that psychiatrists treated truly “crazy” people. “Loonies.” Those who’d “gone off the deep end.” Or “around the bend.” Those who babbled inanities.
         None of those descriptions fit me I thought.
         Or did they?
         I was hallucinating—and had done so for many months—three separate aspects of myself: Anna, Dolores, and Dodo. One persisted in berating me; one assured me I was doing the best I could; the third would have, in the 1990s, taken as her mantra, “Don’t worry; be happy.”
         They entered the doctor’s office with me. Each immediately chose a corner. Each kept commenting as I recounted my convent experiences and stammered the muddled reasons why I’d left. Each had something to say as I waded through a quagmire of emotions: Grief. Regret. Shame. Guilt. Contrition. And yes, relief.
         The psychiatrist’s response? Contempt. He ranted about how God calls a person to be a nun. How I’d made final vows. Vows for life. And I’d tossed them aside.
         My memory is of him spewing forth all the dislike he had for me because I’d dared to toss aside my vows and leave the convent.


Sculpture by John Flaxman: The Fury of Athamas.

         I listened, my eyes tear-filled. After fifty minutes he barked that he’d see me the following week at the same time. My three counterparts and I left the room.
         The next week, as I remember, was the same. He cloaked me in shame, insisted I was a miserable failure.
         He commanded me to admit my mistake. Return to the convent. Do penance. Try to placate God who must be so displeased with my tossing aside His gift of vocation.
         I can remember the import of what he said, but not his exact words. I see him snarling at me. Angry. Disgusted.
         I returned to my room at the Loretto Guild and began to center myself in Presence. And as I did, I found a wellspring of peace within me.
         The next week I returned to his office. My three tag-a-longs and I walked in. He invited me to sit. I didn’t. Instead, I stood and told him the truth as I saw it: He did not believe nuns should leave the convent. He was biased. Acting on that bias was unhelpful and unprofessional. He was a sorry example of a person whose job description should have included listening with an open heart and mind. Objectively, but compassionately.   
         Then I turned around, left his office, and found another psychiatrist. 

40 comments:

  1. Wow. Back then, going to a psychiatrist was a confession of insanity,or worse. I do hope that he eventually paid for the damage and pain he caused for so many.

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    1. Dear Susan, I never heard anything about him after that third session. All I can remember is that his last name started with an "S." I hope that he was better with non-nuns than with me! Peace.

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  2. How wise you were to stop his "treatment"!!

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    1. Dear Fishducky, yes, I had a moment of real strength and ended his interrogations. Peace.

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  3. How wise, and how brave you were to confront this man. It must have cost you a lot to do so. Congratulations. And awe.

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    1. Dear Sue, confrontation has always been difficult for me as one of the residues of my childhood is the need to be liked. But I just knew after meditating on the two sessions that he was not helping me and that he was biased. At that time, so few women had left the convent that no one quite knew what to do with them or how to respond to what became a year or two late, an exodus of women from convents around the country. Peace.

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  4. Wow, sounds like he needed to see someone too. You sure can't be biased in that job, wise choice

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    1. Dear Pat, that's the thing. A psychiatrist needs to have an open mind. And he surely didn't. Peace.

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  5. You are so brave. What a horrible excuse for a doctor. A psychiatrist yelled at me once. I said I would never speak to him again, and I complained about him. I wouldn't have been able to do that if I hadn't been seeing another, kind psychiatrist for quite some time. Were "the three" hallucinations only or were you experiencing some kind of disassociation? If you don't want to answer, I understand. I am curious because my ex-husband would disassociate when he was confronted by anything that made him angry or uncomfortable. He would be replaced by someone whose eyes glazed over and he had no memory of what happened during the disassociation. I never knew where he went while this other personality replaced him, and no one could tell me. My ex-husband denied that it happened. I wish I had tape recorded him so he could have heard what he said.

    Love,
    Janie

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    1. Dear Janie, I never heard the word "disassociation" used by a psychiatrist with regard to my auditory and visual hallucinations. But that doesn't mean there isn't some connection. I did see these three figments of me and I did hear them talking to me, but I knew that no one else in the room heard them. I do remember sometimes wondering if everyone had three tag-a-longs with them and if in a room of 12 people there would be 36 other "individuals" as well. I can remember thinking that the room must be crowded! Peace.

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    2. If you remained present and knew everything the three women did, then I don't think you disassociated.

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    3. Dear Janie, I simply don't know about disassociation. All I do know is that as long as I take my medicine each night before I go to bed, I don't hallucinate! Peace.

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  6. It is astounding how many really terrible mental health professionals there are out there. I have to confess that when I was closing my private practice and referring patients out, I struggled to find colleagues I trusted with my patients. The potential for harm -- devastation -- is so great.

    It's particularly horrifying to read about your going into his office in such a vulnerable state -- with signs of a dissociative disorder -- and having him treat you as he did. Thank goodness you had it within to stand up to him and then walk out! It showed a real connection with God's grace and enough self-love, coming from divine love, to say "Enough!"

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    1. Dear Kathy, I surprise myself at times at the fact that there's a strength within me that normally I'm not aware of. But that man had crossed some line in my mind and I knew he was in the wrong. Peace.

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  7. This was not a good man, let alone a doctor. Psychiatrists are supposed to help you find "your answers", and not bring judgement upon you. I am so happy you told him off and went on to find a professional who followed the creed of doctors, "Do no harm."

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    1. Dear Arleen, yes, he did do harm, but fortunately I quickly found another psychiatrist who did much good. He helped me get through the first 2 1/2 years of being in Dayton and helped me decide to go to graduate school. Peace.

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  8. Dee, I admit I did not see this coming! My goodness but there's just no excuse for a professional to take such terrible advantage of your emotional vulnerability in the way that he did, but I'm so eager to hear about how you pulled yourself out of that. And to have come to a place where you've integrated the other parts of you--you've worked hard at finding your center and holding on! I hope that all of this story is going to be in your book? YOu have such a story to share with the world, and we can all learn from you. You are truly someone very special. ox Debra

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    1. Dear Debra, I'm not exactly sure whether the convent memoir needs to end where I left the convent or needs to continue to what happened in Dayton the first few months after I left the convent. When I'm dreaming BIG I think of three memoirs: growing up, convent, and my life since in which I have gotten involved with social issue and found the center of myself. Peace.

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  9. The real winner in this situation is you, Dee. You didn't buy into his misogynistic rants but stood up and became even stronger. What a story!

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    1. Dear DJan, yes, I was the winner. And he surely was a misogynistic man. I wonder what happened with his practice when so many nuns began to leave the convent in late 1968 and 1969. I was one of only a handful of nuns to leave the Atchison convent after Vatican II. A few months after I left, many women began to leave. I really wonder if that man had others come and whether he finally had to fold his tent of belief and recognize the rights of women to choose the life that fits them. Peace.

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  10. WONDERFUL! You loved your "SELF" and you stood up for YOU! A hearty handshake and a warm hug. You are just special! For you give to us hope and strength!!!
    Linda
    http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com

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    1. Dear Terry and Linda, thank you for your kind words. I'll give you back a "hearty handshake and a warm hug"! I'm glad this story speaks to you. Peace.

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  11. I was horrified to hear what that man said to you. He was totally in the wrong profession. Thank God you were able to set him straight and leave. I feel so sorry for those who were in his care and didn't have the courage to leave.

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    1. Dear Arkansas Patti, you know I"ve never before thought of the others whom he "counseled." I wonder how many clients he had and how many stayed for more than a couple of sessions. Peace.

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  12. I really like the way this story ends. Glad you found the courage to stand up to him. He had no business being in that profession.

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    1. Dear Bill, I think I surprised myself with my ability to stand up for myself. Having taken a vow of obedience a few years before, I'm surprised that I didn't just accept his judgment. Peace.

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  13. Good for you ---standing up for yourself. I'm shocked (maybe, not really) that he would take the attitude he did. BUT-maybe that is what he was 'hired' to do, to get disillusioned nuns to feel even worse just to get them to go back and repent... Gads---that is terrible. We all make mistakes in our lives ---and when we ask for help, we want someone to listen to us where we are --and not where they want us to be... Bet that was when you started getting WELL.... Good for you!
    Hugs,
    Betsy

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    1. Dear Betsy, yes, he did me a favor really as I stood up for myself and was assertive, which had always been hard for me. Peace.

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  14. Dee, I'm so sorry that when you reached out for help to someone who had been trained to help people, you found only condemnation and anger. Sadly the so-called helping professions too often seem to attract those who seek to compensate for their own inadequacies by finding a position where they can feel superior to those in real need and crisis. I'm so glad to hear that you later found a true professional who could offer you the help you needed.

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    1. Dear Perpetua, yes, the next psychiatrist I saw was so helpful. I'm going to write about that experience in a week or so. Peace.

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  15. Sometimes we have to be put in a position of total and complete soul condemnation for that God-spark inside of us to stand up and acknowledge that we are not THAT bad or THAT evil. You stood up for your goodness. A horrible, self-righteous man of the cloth served your soul very well in that regard, my friend. My guess is that experience helped you take a step in a slightly different direction than you would have headed before you met him...that, in the long run, he altered your path in a positive way. Soul gifts can be disguised in the ugliest and most painful of packages sometimes. ;)

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    1. Dear Rita, yes, I do agree with you that he was a "soul gift." I've never before heard or used that term but often in my life someone has been a gift either by what that person said or didn't say or did or didn't do. I was stronger for having met him. Well, the thing is, I guess, I discovered that I had already an inner strength of which I had been aware. Peace.

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  16. Good for you. Just think of all the personalities that bad man is ruining. I've studied astrology most of my life and I realize it probably isn't your cup of tea because Catholics speak out against astrology. But I once asked a shrink (he was sort of a friend) if he would tell a patient his astrological info if they asked. He said no, his personal information did not enter into patients treatment. I totally disagree and would never see any one for advice unless they did tell me, at least when they were born. Here's the reason, I am a Pisces and if a shrink was a capricorn or Aries, they could never guide me because our thinking takes us on opposite sides of the fence. I believe only a water or air person could come close to know what I am feeling. This guy was all wrong for you or for anybody. So be it. I am glad you left him.

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    1. Dear Manzanita, it's wonderful that you know yourself so well and that you are your own best advocate. I've worked on that for years and I'm getting there! Peace.

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  17. Hi Dee.. Your my kind of gal.. and much stronger than most.. especially 'back in the day'.
    Be well, be Happy :)

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    1. Dear Pam, yes, "back in the day"s of our youth! Peace.

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  18. Oh dear, I was sure to have made a comment before now. Either it got lost or I am deluding myself.
    I know that I read this post several days ago and congratulated you on your commonsense in not letting this psychiatrist stamp you into the ground but dismiss him and look for help elsewhere.

    Psychiatrists are meant to make you better not force their will on you and make you feel worse. That’s catholic doctrine of the worst kind.

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    1. Dear Friko, you're right. I think one of the main tasks of psychiatrists and counselors is to help us discover the patterns in our life--patterns of thinking and acting. The best psychiatrist I ever went to and the best counselor also did just that and helped me greatly. Peace.

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  19. I was away for this; so pleased I scrolled down "for what I missed."
    I wonder if there are any religion specific counselling professionals who are objective? But that is not the point of the story, so we shall leave him behind, sputtering.

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    1. Dear Joanne, I have begun to think that the Catholic justices are the US Supreme Court are not objective at all when supposed religion is involve. Peace.

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