Almost Lost (18 page)
Authors: Beatrice Sparks
“Big as your La-Z-Boy lounge chair and so ugly it almost has a life of its own. It's moving, almost fighting.”
“Of course it's moving and fighting. All those combined negative patternings don't want to leave
you in control of all your emotions and actions
. Let's pour more disinfectant bleach around the whole circle.
“Can you see the bleach begin to disintegrate the negative colors around the edges and in toward the middle of the pile?”
“Yes.”
“Is the blob the size of the chair beginning to soften and become smaller as the disinfectant bleach gets to it?”
“Yes. It is. It really is.”
We took another fifteen minutes or so to completely disinfect and bleach and disintegrate Sammy's past pain into a white vapor, then into oblivion. “Do you now feel some relief?”
He opened his eyes and smiled. “Only like the world's weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Am I going to feel this good and this light from now on?”
“
Only if
you fill the
vacuum which was left within you
when you took out the dark, hurtful, poisonous negatives, with pleasant, light, healing positives! Don't leave one contagious, toxic thought or concept to multiply and try to take you over again! And be patient with yourself. If at first you don't succeedâ¦YOU'RE NORMAL!”
“I can do all that stuff if you'll help me do it!”
“Sorry! I can tell you
how
âthe
doing you must do yourself
. But it won't be that hard
if
you make a commitment
TO YOURSELF
to be ever positive, optimistic, compassionate, and long-suffering. Every time you are tempted to say or do or think a negative
thing, either bite your tongue or give yourself a good twisting monkey bite on your arm. Some people wear a loose rubber band on their arm and give themselves a good flip.”
“That part sounds doable. And just because Lance is the repulsive, revolting, white trash degenerate jackass of all time doesn't mean that I have to be one too, does it?”
“Absolutely not. In fact, you can be the exact opposite if that's what you want to be.”
“You know, I think the hardest thing wasâ¦to accept what is, as what is.”
“That's often the case.”
“And to know that a person can be a knight in shining armor on the outside and the evilest of demons on the inside. When I was growing up Lance was always Sir Lancelot to me, from the first time I read about King Arthur and the Round table. He was everything good and mighty and bold and honest and honorable. I truly thought that he could save the world, do no wrong, and somewhere in my guts I always felt until
it
happened, that Mom must have done every bit of the stuff that caused the divorce. What a fool I was, an empty-headed blame-the-wrong-person fool.”
“Relax, Sammy. Don't blame yourself or anyone else. Blame, guilt, criticism, condemnation, culpability are all useless, time- and energy-wasting thoughts, verbalizations, or actions. They do nothing to mend, cure, or restore. Teach yourself to fall back on something constructive to yourself and others, instead of destructive. Many of the people I work with feel comfortable working with some form of the Alcoholics Anonymous' Serenity Creed:
“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I
cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
“You told me about that before. It makes complete sense, and honest, I'm trying real hard to keep those thoughts in a place in my brain where I can always pull them out when I need them. I've failed so far, but I am going to keep trying! You were hoping I would say that, weren't you?”
“You are scary. You're reading my mind so often these days.”
Then I guess you know I'm thinking maybe I should know some other ways to get rid of the big bad wolves when, like in the fairy story about the three little pigs, one wolf or another is huffing and puffing and trying to blow my house down.”
“Wellâ¦you could learn to
detach yourself
.”
“Like how?”
“Like doctors in medical school have to learn how to â
detach themselves
' so that when they're performing a cesarean section, or doing brain surgery or an amputationâ”
Sammy interrupted. “They won't gag or faint when the bloody little baby or the guts pop out, or the little saw buzzes through the skull and the brains hang loose, or the big saw buzzes through the leg, and it drops on the floorâ”
I interrupted. “You're a little
overly
graphic, but I'm sure we're both getting
your
picture. Who else can you think of that might have to learn to
detach themselves?
”
“Firemen. I don't see how they can handle carrying out a little kid who is half on fire, or anyone else for that matter, even a dog or a cat. I'm sure they must have some skill in
detaching themselves
.”
“What about policemen?”
“Yeah them too. They must see lots of people shot and stabbed and stuff. And the scary part of itâ¦man, I don't know how they do it. Even if they can
detach themselves
some, I'll bet they can't detach completely.”
“What about people who work with little babies who are born drug-addicted or grossly deformed, or ambulance drivers, or those of us who work in the mental health field?”
Sammy thought for a few seconds. “I can see by your body language as well as hear from your voice, that you're pained when I'm pained.”
“Right, but I can still
detach
myself enough so that if you're going down for the third time, there is no way you can pull me under with you.”
“I guess I let Lance do that to me, didn't I?”
“If you think you did.”
“Man, life is complicated.”
“Not once one makes the choice to be a
Positive Magnet
.”
“Bull! That wouldn't, couldn't keep bad things from happening in someone's life.”
“You're right. But it isn't what happens in our lives that makes us or breaks us⦔
“I know. I know. It's what we
do
about what happens.”
“Why do you suppose some abused children turn out to be abusers themselves while others don't, or why one generation after another in some families turn out to be on welfare while in others they don't?”
“And some kids whose parents are alcoholics or drug users fall into the same trap and some don't?”
“And some kids brought up in illiterate homes become brilliant educators in numerous fields while others remain illiterate.”
“I guess I've tried, even to this very moment, to
shift the responsibility for my totally unacceptable actions onto Lance, haven't I? And it doesn't work that way, does it?”
“Never has, never will.”
“Life is geared so that every individual has to
own
and
take responsibility
for every single thing they do, isn't it?”
“With some little leeway for environment, including parenting, etcetera.”
“Okay. I think I've got the
Detachment Concept
and the
Responsibility Concept
and the
Positive Magnetic Power Principle
stabilized in my brain. What do I do now?”
“Go home, kid.”
“Trying to get rid of me, huh?”
“No. Hold on a minute, I've got some visual aids you should put around in your house,
where you can't ever miss them!
” I brought out three little black bottles with skulls and crossbones on them. Under the crossbones were the words:
Â
D
EADLY
T
OXIC
P
OISONS
N
EGATIVITY
P
ESSIMISM
H
OSTILITY
Â
On the other side of the bottles were the words:
Â
D
EADLY
T
OXIC
P
OISONS
H
ATE
, F
EAR
, D
EFEAT
L
OW
S
ELF
-E
STEEM
B
LAME
, G
UILT
Â
Sammy grinned self-consciously. “Okay, teach. I get the message. See ya when I see ya, and I really
am beginning to think
maybe
some day I'll permanently make it out of the dark woods.”
“Maybe?”
He poked me in the arm with a single finger. “I'll let you know
that
for sure after our sessionâ¦with you know who.”
SUMMARY OF SESSION
Sammy finally faces seeing his father use cocaine. Sammy uses.
His father finds him stoned and having spilled his complete cocaine stash into the heavy carpet, Lance sadistically violently abuses Sammy.
Thursday, September 22
Sammy left the following note in my mail box.
Dear Doctor B:
I stayed awake most of last night rethinking my West Coast nightmare. I can't believe a nice kid like me, from a nice family and home like mine, could ever have sunk so totally into such an insane hellhole. The more sanely I try to disconnect each single incident and go over it in the tiniest possible detail, the more I know now
FOR CERTAIN
that a lot of the stuff I thought I did do, or did witness, I
didn't actually do or personally see!
Does that make sense
to you? Probably not. Well, I'll try to explain. When I was trashed out on drugs and stuff to the point where I didn't know which way was up, I didn't know the difference between movies and videos and me
watching them
or
being a part of them.
Like I thought I was part of the wetback thing, now I
know
I really wasn't because I remember the rest of the movie. It's weird! Scary black weirder than weird! Anyway, now I'm positively
, absolutely positive I did not
do some of the stuff I told you I did
.
I feel sooooo good to know that, and I think you'll feel good too! It's 3:00
A.M.
and now that I've delivered this note to you maybe I'll be able to sleep
.
See ya soon,
Sammy (with all kind of flourishes)
Samuel, Paula, Lance Gordon Family Chart
Saturday, September 24, 2:00
P.M.
Eleventh Visit
Â
Sammy and his mother came early. Sammy sat in his chair, looking pale, small, and vulnerable, as he tensely waited for Lance. I had never learned to be comfortable around child abusers and suspected I never would, but at least I could be professional, fair, detached andâ¦with a sharp, painful twinge I realized that for Sammy I felt the same mother tiger
protective urges that spring forth from all in the female nurturing species. My kid clients
were my kids!
I could detach from them and put their problems in a better perspective than I could with my own offspring, but still I was, and always would be, a protective mother figure fighting for their safety and sanctity!
I had just started a relaxation exercise for the three of us when Lance entered. It was like a cold wind came in with him. I held out my hand. “Hello, I'm Dr. B. Sparks.”
The look on his face was that of a wounded animal as he stared soberly at his ex-wife and son. “Paula tells me you've done a lot for Sammy.”
“He's done a lot for himself, with a
little
guidance from me. I'm
very
proud of him!”
Lance hung his head. “I'm proud of him, too.”
Sammy's body tightened. His face flushed, and he began mumbling things under his breath.
I touched his arm gently. “Relax, Sammy, and
say anything
you are
feeling out loud
. That is the only way we can understand where we're coming from, and how we can get from here to where we want to go.”
Sammy tightened his lips until they were just a slash across the bottom of his face. An agonized nonhuman noise escaped, and tears began to form on his eyelashes.
Lance leaned toward him. “Oh Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, forgive me. Can you ever, ever forgive me?”
Sammy pulled back from him and screamed, “Get the shit away from me, you bastard creep!” He pulled himself into an even tighter little snarl of body
parts. “I hate your guts. I hate your liver. I hate your heart. I⦔
Lance's face turned white as Sammy looked away from him in revulsion. “I deserve that, son. I deserve anything and everything vile you can say.”
“You're not fit to be a father⦔
“I know that only too well⦔
They both began talking at once. Words bumping into and careening past each other but never getting through. They were both so absorbed in their own worlds of pain.
Paula tried to placate them. “Please, Sammy, don't be so cruel. Your father's hurting, too. And, Lance, you've got to understand how critically⦔ She was simply adding more decibels to the negative, dissonant sound level.
I broke the escalating tension by tinkling a melodic little crystal bell I keep on my desk for such occasions. “I think it is appropriate at this time to introduce the Gordon family to Listening Therapy. We'll put this two-minute sand timer on and take turns talking and listening, if that's all right with each of you.”
Sammy shrugged. Paula and Lance, somewhat embarrassed, nodded affirmatively.
Â
“The rules
for LISTENING THERAPY ARE SIMPLE BUT ABSOLUTE!
Let's take turns reading them. Sammy, will you be first?”
Â
S
AMMY
: When one person is talking, each of the others in the group
must remain silent
. The speaker will have up to two minutes to say what he/she has to say.
P
AULA
: During the time someone is speaking, the others
must force themselves to listen to what that person is saying!
They
don't have to agree
, but they have to listen.
L
ANCE
: When the speaker has finished, if someone doesn't volunteer, he/she can ask
anyone
in the group to
repeat
what he/she has said.
D
R.
B: The chosen person does that in
as honest and unbiased a way as possible
.
S
AMMY
: The original speaker then may try to straighten out discrepancies between what he/she was trying to say and what the hearer thought he/she had said.
P
AULA
: Others may speak for up to two minutes when they think they can add something constructive without getting off the subject.
D
R.
B: Only POSITIVE, BUILDING suggestions are allowed. Negative past experiences or thoughts can be brought in only when necessary to
start
restructuring.
S
AMMY
: Each
questionable
statement made must be followed up by one or two listeners telling what they thought the speaker said.
D
R.
B: “Listening Therapy is the most reliable method I've found to settle family grievancesâin fact, any mode of grievances.”
Â
Lance raised his hand. “I'd like to start by telling Sammy how much I love him and how precious he is in my lifeâ”
I interrupted as I looked at Sammy. “I forgot to inform you that according to the Listening Therapy rules, nonverbal expressions are not allowed either.
Listening intently can no more be accomplished with nonverbal talking-back than it can be with verbal interruptions.”
Sammy grinned sheepishly and sat up in his chair.
Lance continued with tears running down his face and onto the front of his shirt. “I hope someday you can forgive me, dear Sammy, and you too, Paula. I was such a Peter Pan for so many years. I wanted to do what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it, how I wanted to do it. Something inside me, bigger than I was, nicer than I was, always made me send money, but maybe that was just to salve my conscience.” He stopped for a couple of seconds, then proceeded.
“I'm going to blurt it all out, every horrendous bit, then if you never want to see or hear from me again I'll understand. I'llâ¦I'll send you money, but I'll never bother you. I promise, on everything I hold sacred, which is mainly
you
, whether you believe it or not. Anyway, after Sammy and Dana and Dorie were born and I was beginning to climb up the corporate ladder I began to feelâ¦oh, this hurtsâ¦that I was”âhe sniffedâ“too good for you”âhe sniffed deeply againâ“that I was the big shot, theâ¦how could I have been so stupid? By the time I went to work in Silicon Valley I was as synthetic as it was, and the more successful I became, according to the ways of the world, the more empty and unhappy I was. Then I started drinking and using drugs, just socially, I thought, but after a while I wasn't using them, they were using me! I couldn't understand what was happening in my life. I⦔
The sand ran out of the timer, and I asked Lance who he would like to review what he had said.
He bit his lip. “Sammy.”
“I heard you say you were the biggest sleazeball
in the world, that you thought you were better than us, too good for us, that you were selfish and self-centered and a dirty rotten, lowest-of-the-low assholeâ¦sorry, Mom. You said you were plastic and you are. A phony, a wannabe, a rotten dad, a rotten husband, a rotten everything, except a good runner-awayer and a drug addict! The lowest of all, fancy on the outside and on the inside, a disgusting, nauseating, verminous coke-head.”
“Mr. Gordon, would you like to clarify what you really said?” I asked.
“No! He's right. He's absolutely, perfectly, totally right.”
“Paula and Sammy, is it all right to give him another two minutes to go on with whatever he has to say?”
Paula was in shock. Sammy was patting and rubbing her hands. They nodded.
Lance continued. “Well, maybe I shouldn't have been so honest, but I had to be, otherwise there is no way in the world Sammy could ever understand my undoing. It was like some subtle evil force was drawing me slowly and painstakingly down into a no-way-out whirlpool. The deeper I got in, the more impossible it was to get out.
“I don't want that kind of thing to happen to Sammy. It's self-destructive, which also means it's destructive to other people, and it can take over so slowly, so subtly, that you're hardly aware that it's become your master. I grew up poor and powerless and some little part of me continued to feel poor and powerless till I started making good money. Thenâ¦I guess the money and the power became my god.”
Paula moaned softly. Lance's hand reached out
toward her, then pulled back. He looked at the timer and continued.
“I never stopped loving any of you, though! In fact, I think, the more entangled I became, the more I knew I needed you and wanted you. After each of Sammy's visits, I vowed I would get my life in order, but I didn't when I could have and thenâ¦I couldn't! I remember after Sammy had visited me for two weeks the summer before last, I'd stayed clean and sober for a time, and I was feeling pretty good. I thought I'd licked my problems, and I'd get better and we'd all live happily ever afterâ¦.”
The last grain of sand slid from the upper part of the timer. For a couple of seconds the four of us looked at each other in silence, then Lance turned to Sammy. “What did you hear me say that time, son?”
Sammy pulled away and spoke almost to himself. “I heard you say you grew up poor so you were powerless to resist whatever. That's a pile of horse hockey! You were powerless because you're a weak-willed wimp! A Peter Pan who won't grow up and be a man, a decent dad! Mom grew up poor, and she's okay. Poor is no excuse! You have
no
valid, acceptable excuse. You said you loved us. Lies! Friggin' bullshit lies! Black as your heart! Evil as you admit you are! I want outta here. I'm going to throw up. Come on, Mom. We don't need to listen to this crap.”
She ran her hand through his hair. “I think we do, Sammy. I really think we do. I'd like to hear the rest of what Lance has to say. At least we should give him that chance, don't you think?”
Sammy muttered, “If it will make
you
feel better, I guess I can wade through a little more of his flyblown bull-crap lies.”
Lance started speaking again. His voice was raspy, and his eyes brimmed with tears. “I deserve that. I deserve everything you've said. I've
been
a deceitful father, a disloyal husband, a despicable human being, but I've changed, believe me I've changed. The night after you ran away, Sammy, I wanted to kill myself, I felt so unworthy, so controlled by all my weaknesses and evil. I almost did it, too, till I remembered that at least you needed me for the money it would take to get you and the girls through college. That was the
only reason
I didn't overdose at that moment, and before I could weaken again I drove to a rehab center and committed myself. They called my company and told them I would be hospitalized for a few weeks. They didn't tell them what kind of hospital it was.
“As soon as I'd dried out a little and felt pretty sure that I'd make it, I started calling you, Sammy, and writing to you, and trying to contact you in every other way I could think of, but you'd shut me out. I wanted back into your lives so much that my fingernails and toenails ached, but I knew I wouldn't ever be able to win back your mother's and the girls' love and respect until I first won back yours. And I couldn't love and respect myself until
you
all loved and respected me. Do you think you ever will be able to do that, Sammy?”
Sammy cringed. “How could I ever,
ever, EVER
respect anyone who abused me, beat me, and cursed me, and”âhis words were barely audibleâ“loved his shit (cocaine) more than he loved me.”
“Oh, Sammy, I have never before, and never will, love anything like I love my family. You are the air I breathe, the sunshine that warms my soul, part of
the God I worship. Haven't you read any of the letters I've written or the telegrams I've sent?”
“No! I tear them up! Then I toss them in the trash where they belong.”
“What about the letters I sent to Paula?”
Paula replied, “Like I told you on the phone, Sammy made me promise I'd never mention your name around him.”
“I said I'd disappear again and
never
come back if she did. I'm only suffering through this waste of time now because she pleaded with me to. After all the crap you've put her through, I finally felt I had to do it, but I want you to understand it's just for her! We don't need you in our lives. Why don't you get the hell out? Why didn't you just O.D. when you knew you should?”
