18-08-2026, 01:16 PM
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 2005
“How could I have forgotten all of that, doctor? Am I really crazy?”
Teller leaned forward and puffed on his pipe. She had told him what had happened with her aunt and the aftermath in which the embittered older woman had predicted a betrayal by Bill that apparently had never occurred, but which had sunk into Debbie’s brain deeply enough to color her feelings toward her ex-husband.
He let the redolent smoke out of his lungs and allowed himself to feel a measure of self-satisfaction. He now had a pretty good handle on the forces that had wrecked the Maitland marriage. Most, if not all, of the pieces had fallen into place. Debbie Bascomb hadn’t quite put them all together and he wouldn’t push the pace.
For her sake it was important that they came out at the proper time. She needed to accept and understand what had happened, her role and responsibility and her ex-husband’s responsibility as well. Psychiatry was nothing if not a way to learn to live with the actions and mistakes of the past, to accept the reality of what was done and could not be undone, and to find a way to make a new life.
“No, you’re not crazy, Debbie. This is a somewhat extreme example of a common phenomenon, but it happens often. Memories that are too painful to live with are buried in our subconscious. Embarrassments, disappointments, heartache. They are forgotten over the years and never surface until some event or trauma brings the memories forward.”
She leaned forward and clasped her hands together.
“I could understand forgetting what happened to Clarice, but how could I possibly have dreamed that it happened to me?”
He took his pipe out of his mouth, tamped the tobacco down, relit and took in another soothing lungful of aromatic smoke. The delay was deliberate to allow her more time to think about her question. Pipe smoking was a wonderfully innocent way of working delay into a conversation.
“You’ve told me about the role that your aunt played in your life. You told me that she was your second mother in every important way. In fact, she was a combination of a mother and sister. When you were going through your wild teenage years, she was the woman you trusted with your deepest secrets you couldn’t go to your mother with. She was the person who never betrayed your trust, who always – to use the common expression – had your back no matter what.”
Debbie’s eyes misted.
“She was a wonderful woman. I miss her more now than I did after she died. I guess...I guess forgetting what happened was a way of forgetting how much I lost when she died. If she....if her marriage hadn’t collapsed and she had been around when I started to....fall out of love....with Bill, I don’t think things would have happened the way they did.”
She stopped speaking, feeling for a moment as if Clarice was in the room with them.
“She would....she would have made me get my head straight. I can hear her now. She would have told me to either tell Bill I was leaving him or....to...forgive my language but it was what she would have said...fuck him until his eyes crossed and drag his flabby ass to a gym and get him back into shape.”
Teller saw the raw emotion and wondered if she had ever come to terms with the emotional impact of her aunt’s death. Grief and anger at a cheating husband who had contributed to the older woman’s suicide were other parts of the puzzle that she could not have known were poisoning her mind and emotions about her ex-husband while it was happening.
“Even now it’s obvious how strongly you felt about her. Even more than the emotional bond was the identification you had with her. She was you in a very real way - blonde, attractive, busty. She taught you, you said, to have pride and confidence in your sexuality and your body.
“Without training, she was able to provide the support and encouragement you needed to transcend what was actually early sexual abuse by older men. Women who are initiated into sex at such an early age often fall into a destructive pattern of sexual relationships that mirror those early experiences. With her help and guidance you grew into a strong, sexually aggressive but sexually healthy woman.”
He released another plume of tobacco smoke and observed the tears streaming slowly down her face.
“What happened, psychologically speaking, was that you saw yourself in your aunt as her marriage collapsed and she desperately sought the approval and sexual desire of other men to replace what she had had with her husband. You knew, consciously, that the assault happened to your aunt but, in your subconscious mind, you saw yourself as the victim. Because she was you and you had mirrored her life experiences.”
She nodded.
“I can see that. I told you about my nightmare....the one where I saw myself growing old and my breasts were drooping. I looked so damned old. It was terrifying. I know now that I was reliving the way I felt when I was cleaning her
up in the shower afterwards. She didn’t look that bad, but I couldn’t believe she was that old. She wasn’t even 60, but she had gotten so old...so old. ”
Teller nodded. She was putting the pieces together.
“She had always been so beautiful. When I was a little girl I wanted nothing more than to look like her. Men loved her. Even married men who were friends of her husband were always flirting with her. She told me once she’d never be unfaithful to Frank, but that there was nothing as exciting as knowing another man wanted her. I guess. ”
“What?” Teller asked gently.
“That was the way I was with Bill. I loved him, the lazy bastard, and I never cheated on him after we got together in college, but I loved teasing men. I loved knowing they wanted me and I never really thought there was anything wrong with it. That was Clarice.”
Teller probed a little more deeply.
“In the bad years at the end of your marriage, when you...engaged in manual sex with several men....did you really think that it was acceptable because Bill had betrayed you first, as Clarice’s husband had cheated on her?”
She wiped her eyes with one of the tissues in a box in front of her.
“I don’t know. I’ve thought about it. I told him I never believed it, not really. But...I don’t know. Do you suppose I really always deep down believed it. and
He laughed.
“I know. I couldn’t resist. To answer your question, it is possible that doubts about your husband’s fidelity, even if you consciously denied it, might have sparked anger at him. Particularly since, just as you identified with your aunt, you probably identified Bill with her husband.”
She looked troubled.
“Maybe...but somehow, I don’t think that would be enough to have made me
....feel the way I did. do sometimes.”
“You’re probably right, Debbie. Why don’t you think about it until our next session. Try to come up with any other reasons for this deep, stubborn, apparently intractable anger.”
He wondered if she would come up with it on her own. She was getting close.
“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about, doctor.”
“We have a few minutes left on this session. What would you like to discuss?”
“I know we talked about this one time before...but....I appreciate your help. I’m not throwing up and I feel a lot better about myself and my life now. It’s just that I can’t help wondering what’s the point of going much further. Even if I find out what made me so angry at Bill, what purpose does it serve?”
She rubbed her hands together in a classic unconscious exhibition of uncertainty and stress.
“I mean, even if I discover why I was so angry, why I wanted out of the marriage...the fact is I’m out. Our marriage is history. He...I think sometimes he hates me and most of the time I can’t blame him. If he had done to me what I did to him, even though I still think he left our marriage first, I’d never forgive him.
“I think sometimes that the only feeling I have left for him is guilt. I know there are times I feel flashes....of something like what I once felt for him. But they’re only flashes, so what’s the point of finally understanding why everything fell apart.”
“I told you once, Debbie, that you could stop these sessions at any time. I think, honestly, that you would eventually figure out on your own the source of the emotions you feel toward your ex-husband. Similarly, although complex, I think you will eventually realize what destroyed your marriage, and he does share a portion of the responsibility for that.
“What you learn about yourself and Bill won’t change the past. What happened, happened. The scars you both bear won’t vanish. Your marriage is history. But, understanding what happened, and why, might make it easier to form a viable relationship with him in the future. You still share two children and eventually there will probably be grandchildren. You will be part of each other’s lives for the rest of your lives.
“No matter what happens between the two of you, you are still a young woman. You will love someone else again. You might yet have more children and start a new life. I can’t help but think you will be better able to forge a new life if you understand what led to the end of the old one.”
She was silent for a moment.
“Thank you, doctor. You’re probably right that we’ll always be a part of each other’s lives. Right now I’m losing sleep worrying about him and that cop, Shawn Smith. I don’t think Bill appreciates just how dangerous he is, just how much danger he is in.”
Teller reached out and took her hand in his.
“I’m aware of the situation, Debbie. I think you underestimate your ex. Bill Maitland might be a driven man who takes risks, but I don’t think from my experience with him that he’s a foolish or reckless man.”
“I hope you’re right, doctor, but nobody is bulletproof - sometimes I don’t think Bill realizes that.
“How could I have forgotten all of that, doctor? Am I really crazy?”
Teller leaned forward and puffed on his pipe. She had told him what had happened with her aunt and the aftermath in which the embittered older woman had predicted a betrayal by Bill that apparently had never occurred, but which had sunk into Debbie’s brain deeply enough to color her feelings toward her ex-husband.
He let the redolent smoke out of his lungs and allowed himself to feel a measure of self-satisfaction. He now had a pretty good handle on the forces that had wrecked the Maitland marriage. Most, if not all, of the pieces had fallen into place. Debbie Bascomb hadn’t quite put them all together and he wouldn’t push the pace.
For her sake it was important that they came out at the proper time. She needed to accept and understand what had happened, her role and responsibility and her ex-husband’s responsibility as well. Psychiatry was nothing if not a way to learn to live with the actions and mistakes of the past, to accept the reality of what was done and could not be undone, and to find a way to make a new life.
“No, you’re not crazy, Debbie. This is a somewhat extreme example of a common phenomenon, but it happens often. Memories that are too painful to live with are buried in our subconscious. Embarrassments, disappointments, heartache. They are forgotten over the years and never surface until some event or trauma brings the memories forward.”
She leaned forward and clasped her hands together.
“I could understand forgetting what happened to Clarice, but how could I possibly have dreamed that it happened to me?”
He took his pipe out of his mouth, tamped the tobacco down, relit and took in another soothing lungful of aromatic smoke. The delay was deliberate to allow her more time to think about her question. Pipe smoking was a wonderfully innocent way of working delay into a conversation.
“You’ve told me about the role that your aunt played in your life. You told me that she was your second mother in every important way. In fact, she was a combination of a mother and sister. When you were going through your wild teenage years, she was the woman you trusted with your deepest secrets you couldn’t go to your mother with. She was the person who never betrayed your trust, who always – to use the common expression – had your back no matter what.”
Debbie’s eyes misted.
“She was a wonderful woman. I miss her more now than I did after she died. I guess...I guess forgetting what happened was a way of forgetting how much I lost when she died. If she....if her marriage hadn’t collapsed and she had been around when I started to....fall out of love....with Bill, I don’t think things would have happened the way they did.”
She stopped speaking, feeling for a moment as if Clarice was in the room with them.
“She would....she would have made me get my head straight. I can hear her now. She would have told me to either tell Bill I was leaving him or....to...forgive my language but it was what she would have said...fuck him until his eyes crossed and drag his flabby ass to a gym and get him back into shape.”
Teller saw the raw emotion and wondered if she had ever come to terms with the emotional impact of her aunt’s death. Grief and anger at a cheating husband who had contributed to the older woman’s suicide were other parts of the puzzle that she could not have known were poisoning her mind and emotions about her ex-husband while it was happening.
“Even now it’s obvious how strongly you felt about her. Even more than the emotional bond was the identification you had with her. She was you in a very real way - blonde, attractive, busty. She taught you, you said, to have pride and confidence in your sexuality and your body.
“Without training, she was able to provide the support and encouragement you needed to transcend what was actually early sexual abuse by older men. Women who are initiated into sex at such an early age often fall into a destructive pattern of sexual relationships that mirror those early experiences. With her help and guidance you grew into a strong, sexually aggressive but sexually healthy woman.”
He released another plume of tobacco smoke and observed the tears streaming slowly down her face.
“What happened, psychologically speaking, was that you saw yourself in your aunt as her marriage collapsed and she desperately sought the approval and sexual desire of other men to replace what she had had with her husband. You knew, consciously, that the assault happened to your aunt but, in your subconscious mind, you saw yourself as the victim. Because she was you and you had mirrored her life experiences.”
She nodded.
“I can see that. I told you about my nightmare....the one where I saw myself growing old and my breasts were drooping. I looked so damned old. It was terrifying. I know now that I was reliving the way I felt when I was cleaning her
up in the shower afterwards. She didn’t look that bad, but I couldn’t believe she was that old. She wasn’t even 60, but she had gotten so old...so old. ”
Teller nodded. She was putting the pieces together.
“She had always been so beautiful. When I was a little girl I wanted nothing more than to look like her. Men loved her. Even married men who were friends of her husband were always flirting with her. She told me once she’d never be unfaithful to Frank, but that there was nothing as exciting as knowing another man wanted her. I guess. ”
“What?” Teller asked gently.
“That was the way I was with Bill. I loved him, the lazy bastard, and I never cheated on him after we got together in college, but I loved teasing men. I loved knowing they wanted me and I never really thought there was anything wrong with it. That was Clarice.”
Teller probed a little more deeply.
“In the bad years at the end of your marriage, when you...engaged in manual sex with several men....did you really think that it was acceptable because Bill had betrayed you first, as Clarice’s husband had cheated on her?”
She wiped her eyes with one of the tissues in a box in front of her.
“I don’t know. I’ve thought about it. I told him I never believed it, not really. But...I don’t know. Do you suppose I really always deep down believed it. and
that’s why I’ve been so angry at him?” “I don’t know. What do you think?” She smiled.
“You know, that’s the first time you’ve hit me with typical shrink language, Dr. Teller.”He laughed.
“I know. I couldn’t resist. To answer your question, it is possible that doubts about your husband’s fidelity, even if you consciously denied it, might have sparked anger at him. Particularly since, just as you identified with your aunt, you probably identified Bill with her husband.”
She looked troubled.
“Maybe...but somehow, I don’t think that would be enough to have made me
....feel the way I did. do sometimes.”
“You’re probably right, Debbie. Why don’t you think about it until our next session. Try to come up with any other reasons for this deep, stubborn, apparently intractable anger.”
He wondered if she would come up with it on her own. She was getting close.
“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about, doctor.”
“We have a few minutes left on this session. What would you like to discuss?”
“I know we talked about this one time before...but....I appreciate your help. I’m not throwing up and I feel a lot better about myself and my life now. It’s just that I can’t help wondering what’s the point of going much further. Even if I find out what made me so angry at Bill, what purpose does it serve?”
She rubbed her hands together in a classic unconscious exhibition of uncertainty and stress.
“I mean, even if I discover why I was so angry, why I wanted out of the marriage...the fact is I’m out. Our marriage is history. He...I think sometimes he hates me and most of the time I can’t blame him. If he had done to me what I did to him, even though I still think he left our marriage first, I’d never forgive him.
“I think sometimes that the only feeling I have left for him is guilt. I know there are times I feel flashes....of something like what I once felt for him. But they’re only flashes, so what’s the point of finally understanding why everything fell apart.”
“I told you once, Debbie, that you could stop these sessions at any time. I think, honestly, that you would eventually figure out on your own the source of the emotions you feel toward your ex-husband. Similarly, although complex, I think you will eventually realize what destroyed your marriage, and he does share a portion of the responsibility for that.
“What you learn about yourself and Bill won’t change the past. What happened, happened. The scars you both bear won’t vanish. Your marriage is history. But, understanding what happened, and why, might make it easier to form a viable relationship with him in the future. You still share two children and eventually there will probably be grandchildren. You will be part of each other’s lives for the rest of your lives.
“No matter what happens between the two of you, you are still a young woman. You will love someone else again. You might yet have more children and start a new life. I can’t help but think you will be better able to forge a new life if you understand what led to the end of the old one.”
She was silent for a moment.
“Thank you, doctor. You’re probably right that we’ll always be a part of each other’s lives. Right now I’m losing sleep worrying about him and that cop, Shawn Smith. I don’t think Bill appreciates just how dangerous he is, just how much danger he is in.”
Teller reached out and took her hand in his.
“I’m aware of the situation, Debbie. I think you underestimate your ex. Bill Maitland might be a driven man who takes risks, but I don’t think from my experience with him that he’s a foolish or reckless man.”
“I hope you’re right, doctor, but nobody is bulletproof - sometimes I don’t think Bill realizes that.
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