true story

I was just trying not to believe that it was really happening. The life that I had known for years could not end so quickly, could it?  It was mid-September and I had nowhere to go. 

A meteor had come crashing down upon the life I had known, obliterating everything.  

I kept thinking about how everything had been so right and normal yesterday – not literally yesterday but that’s how it felt.

Then everything changed and I had not seen it coming. I would have done something surely if I had seen danger ahead or if I had known that life would become so extremely challenging.  

It wasn't long after Lynn first stated that she might not come back to me. How could this be? I NEVER imagined a life without her. I also had not foreseen the problems I was having in my career. Who would believe that some fraudster - John Freifeld - would be able to do anything to hurt me or my career and reputation with my clients?  

No one who had not come in contact with Freifeld was complaining about my competency or performance as a psychotherapist. I did have problems and had noticed over the past month and a half I had not been myself or at my best. It didn't seem that anyone actually noticed that I could not still provide psychotherapy for them. 

People were still calling me for appointments, but I had to close down my private practice.  

The fact that there were grievances at all made me think that I better put all therapy sessions on hold for a while. I didn't know where to turn for help though. It had been a few months since I had an appointment with any of my previous therapists.  

I then heard from Diane, Lynn's mother, that she was planning to sell the house she had bought for Lynn and me to rent.   

I had to move out of our home.

It seemed like just a few weeks ago everything was perfect in my life and in the lives of Lynn and me. But it also seemed like it was during another lifetime. How can things fall apart so fast?

My mind went to that song by Don Henley called "New York Minute." It was just the first week of September of 2000. The lyrics went through my mind.

"He had a home
The love of a girl
But men get lost sometimes
As years unfurl
One day he crossed some line
And he was too much in this world
But I guess it doesn't matter anymore"

And then Don Henley sings

"If you find somebody to love in this world
You better hang on tooth and nail."

I had tried so hard to hold onto Lynn!

Then Don Henley says

"And in these days
When darkness falls early
And people rush home
To the ones they love
You better take a fool's advice
And take care of your own
'Cause one day they're here;
Next day they're gone"

Darkness was all I knew now.

And finally, the most poignant lines from the song read

"I pulled my coat around my shoulders
And took a walk down through the park
The leaves were falling around me
The groaning city in the gathering dark
On some solitary rock
A desperate lover left his mark,
He said "Baby, I've changed. Please come back."

What the head makes cloudy
The heart makes very clear"

I was that desperate lover crying out to Lynn "Please come back!" My head might have been cloudy, but my heart was so desperately clear in what I wanted and needed with every fiber of my being.

I used to think about this many years earlier after Celta died in a fire. I had just spoken to her the previous day. Now, with those words from Lynn that she might not come back, I was lost in darkness without a compass or guide.

Not long after that, Diane, Lynn's mother, announced her plans to sell that house. I had moved out already.

A meteor had come crashing down upon my life. The home we had known was being obliterated. My home!

On September 7, 2000, I was summoned by Diane to retrieve what I might want from the home. I wanted Lynn. I didn't want to see these boxes. Lynn wasn't even there. I wondered how she was doing.

The kitchen table was still there. The living room couch still sat where we had it along with the chairs. This is where we would entertain guests - our friends - and family.  

I felt like I was dead - literally. I know that might sound hard to imagine. 

When we experience stressors in life, our minds and bodies react in different ways. We might become anxious and the fight or flight response kicks in. It's like being on the plains of Africa and seeing a hungry lion. Our bodies need to prepare us to run. Something like that happens in response to any type of stress that humans face - we respond based on our thoughts as if we were in physical danger. 

There are other responses like the freeze response which animals use as well. One might imagine an animal playing dead as a survival mechanism. We might also think of this as a turtle withdrawing into its shell and hoping not to be noticed by a predator.   

Something like that happened to me on that day when I showed up to gather what I might want. I wanted Lynn. 

I was so overwhelmed, and my body felt like it was shutting down. I went into the room where we had the computer and the bookcase. It was around the corner and not visible from the living room. I put my back up against the wall on the left next to the closet with the mirrors on it.  

I slid down the wall and raised my legs up at the knees and stared blankly ahead. I was vaguely aware that Diane was frustrated and angry at me. 

I was supposed to be doing something. She needed to sell the place. I was expected to act. But instead, I just stared ahead blankly. Like I was dead. I wasn’t trying to be difficult or putting on an act of defiance. I felt dead!

I could vaguely register that she had called my mother when I didn’t respond at all.   

Diane was either mad at me for acting this way or frustrated. 

Everything I had known was here... This was our home. It felt comfortable for me and now it was being packed up and put into boxes.  

Life as I had known it was disappearing like ashes from a fire. The love of my life, Lynn, fading away. It couldn't be. My home being deconstructed and taken down as if it had no meaning. 

I wasn’t being told that Lynn didn’t want me to keep visiting her at her mother’s place.

It was too easy to deconstruct the life we had. Somehow, somewhere along the way, Lynn had lost her ring. 

There had been no wedding and no official marriage certificate. 

We weren’t talking about what this meant. There were no goodbyes. 

It was a reverse of the first few years but all in the space of two months. 

Lynn and I never had to talk about “are you seeing someone else?” She brought up the issue of whether we were more than just friends, one year after we started seeing each other. But it was just a formality. Everyone and anyone who saw us knew we were more than just friends back then.

The engagement happened without actual planning. I mean it was just a part of us saying to each other, “I’m in love with you.” I remembered how I had given her the ring and she was in tears – tears of joy – as I opened the box. I had been shocked because I had thought she knew I was bringing her ring over that day.

We had NEEDED to live together after that. As much as Lynn needed as much oxygen as she could get so had we needed to be together. 

So, when Lynn said she might not be coming back, I didn’t have to ask what that meant. I wouldn’t ask or speak it! 

No, no, no, no! 

This is NOT happening! This is NOT happening!

What happened next, I don't remember. The next few days were dream-like. I was seeing the world as if I were looking through smoke, ashes, and fog. And all I could do is watch.  

It had seemed that cystic fibrosis was about to destroy my entire life, as well as threaten the life of the woman I loved. I feel selfish to say that it was destroying my life. I cannot say that I was dying, not literally. I felt survivor's guilt because of this fact. I felt I didn't have a right to speak about how I was experiencing all of this. That might be part of the reason why I didn't reach out to friends and say, "I need your help" or "I need your support." or "I need to talk."  

Lynn had known the devastating pain this would cause me. I just had a hard time thinking about "me." It's ironic that by not focusing on how this was affecting me, I didn't appreciate that this was an emotional, psychological and existential crisis for me.  

To be honest, it happened too fast for me to get in to see a psychotherapist or a doctor for help to deal with this. If I had a physical sickness, I would have called my doctor and gotten an appointment in a day or so, maybe a week. With a psychological crisis or sickness that comes on so quickly, we don't think in terms of emergencies that must be addressed immediately.  

I was like a walking zombie without Lynn. 

She was now staying at her mother’s place in Wilmington, the place on Wrightsville Beach.

I was beating up on myself for not keeping the place clean enough for Lynn to feel comfortable living in our home… but in reality, there was more to the story of why Lynn was living with her mother.

I was reflecting on the entire month that and what had happened.

We had two cats and they used the litter box in the garage. Sometimes I would forget to clean that also or before she went into the hospital the second time, I didn’t want to do it myself. I had been in denial and struggling to admit to the fact that she could not do the things she used to be able to do.

Every little failure or thing I forgot to do made me feel ashamed. I hadn’t been stubbornly refusing to do these things. I hadn’t been angry at Lynn for not helping with any of these chores that would have been shared in the past. No, I just was in denial of what was happening and what her inability to do certain things meant.  

It might have seemed like an easy calculation, that cleaning the home and doing other things to make it more likely that Lynn could come home is the most obvious thing for me to do but that just wasn't registering as something that was so obvious. Plus, I was terrified that Lynn might die. I kept pushing that thought away. In so doing, I was pushing a part of my reality out of my mind.  

My normal capacity for planning and problem setting wasn't working at peak levels, to put it mildly. All the resources within me that had served me and guided me throughout the years were non-functional at this time. It seemed like those faculties had shut down.  

We all need help at times in our lives - a supportive person like a therapist, friend, family member. 

Dear reader, you might wonder why I could not offer myself the same support and guidance that I might offer a client. You might wonder why I couldn't draw upon my own skills. Up until this point in my life, I would have been able to step back, plan, figure out what I need to do, and then do it. 

I would have done something.  

I cannot overstate this fact, but I would have done anything imaginable to hold onto the life I had with Lynn – to hold onto any life with Lynn!

We were still in the month of August of 2000.  

Clients depended upon me also.  

Despite the grievances of those five clients, I had dozens of other clients whose therapy was going along well and things were fairly "normal" in that regard. I felt a responsibility to try to help them. 

I couldn't just wallow in the grief and pain of losing Lynn forever. I also didn't know what to expect regarding Lynn's health. I felt powerless to help her so I didn’t know what to do.  

I had developed a coping mechanism to deal with the issues of being in love with someone who had a terminal disease called cystic fibrosis. We had lived life "in the moment." What else can you do? I mean, whether you are talking about Lynn who had lived with this her whole life all those years before she met me or if you are talking about me knowing in some way that I might not have Lynn forever, we both had to focus on what we had.  

That strategy might make the best sense in a way, but it can also lead to denial. I know that this is what I was experiencing in August of 2000. In essence, it was like telling myself "This isn't happening. Everything is fine." But things were not fine. Lynn needed me and I wasn't giving her any sense that I could be there for her.

I wanted and needed to believe that the situation with Lynn living with her mother was temporary. Lynn's mother, Diane had separated from her husband, Bob, and was living down in Wilmington all the time. She had gotten a job as a psychologist in one of the schools. 

On about the fourth of September of 2000, I heard Lynn tell me that she might not come back to me. I couldn't even begin to have a "logical" conversation about this because I broke down and started crying.  

I was moving through life on autopilot. 

I was in denial when I heard those words from Lynn that she might not come back. I thought, "this is not happening."  

This is not happening. I could not wrap my mind around the reality of what I was hearing.  

I reflected upon the weeks and months before the nightmare had started.

Just a few weeks earlier life had seemed so "normal."  We were so in love. I had felt her body next to mine and knew that the love, passion, and romance had not faded at all in all the years we were together. If anything, it had only grown.  

We had been so close just weeks earlier. Falling asleep with my arms around her. My heart and breathing synchronized with hers. I had felt such a sense of serenity as she drifted off to sleep. I tried desperately to hold onto that memory and that peace, but I couldn’t.

My mind kept trying to conjure imagines and memories of this serenity of falling asleep, our bodies touching. Both of us facing the front window in the bedroom. 

Her heartbeat and breathing slowing little by little as she transitioned into sleep. That was just a few weeks ago but it felt like the day before.  

It might have been the day before but for her disease - cystic fibrosis.  

There were other things that were happening in my life, but I was so consumed by the changes in Lynn's health that I could not function as I once had. I had tried to go on coping and working but things were different now.

[Disclaimer: I have used aliases for clients to protect their identity and confidentiality.]

It was August of 2000, and Lynn was in the hospital.  It would have been easier if I was physically ill because then I would know to stay home and not see any clients. Instead, I made trips back to our home and I tried to work.

On one of those days when I was feeling like I had been drugged, something very unusual happened with Vanessa, one of my clients who had been diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). She had just been released from the hospital as I noted earlier.

I didn't think she had any contact with John Freifeld until I learned that she signed that grievance letter to the board – the one that I would find out had been written by John. All this information was still coming in.  

 I was with Vanessa in a therapy session. I started speaking to one of her child alters. I was sitting in my office chair which had wheels on it, and it was rocking. I was dozing off. Before I knew it, she was on top of me in the office. Her lips had met mine.  

I recoiled and rolled back slamming my chair against the desk behind me.  No one had done anything like this to me! "What the hell," I shouted and stood up.  

She was laughing and "Cinnamon" seemed to be out. That was one of her personalities that had been seductive. My hand moved up and I clenched my fist.

This triggered a change and suddenly Victor was out. When people are newly discovering their personalities, they don’t switch very quickly and it looks more dramatic. 

He (she) took a swing at me and hit me in the face. I knew I was still looking at a female. I was completely disoriented by what had happened. But I was awake.  

Clearly, I could not meet with Vanessa any longer as her therapist. Yet, I still felt shame. I was the therapist. I was so trusting.

Michelle had been drawn into this as well. When she was in therapy the next day, she said she had spoken to Vanessa and heard all about it. She had been mad and spoke up for me, she said. She was bragging that she had said that "the only reason she could hit me is that she knew I couldn't hit her back."  

I was there in the hospital explaining this event to Lynn. I never kept any secrets from Lynn. I also would NEVER knowingly allow anyone to get that close to me. It just never happened. From the day I started seeing Lynn on July 4, 1992, until now, I had never had an experience like that. I couldn't quite wrap my mind around how it happened.  

I should have known that Vanessa had this seductive personality, and I should have been more careful. Right? But I had been so out of it. I was dozing off. 

Vanessa had that laugh that said she enjoyed my discomfort. Only the younger personalities didn’t like the way Victor or Cinnamon acted toward me. 

To be unfaithful to Lynn was unthinkable. I had never thought of anyone romantically other than Lynn from the moment I moved to Wilmington in April of 1992. This wasn't a pleasant experience in any sense of the word. In fact, I felt violated. 

My impulse to strike Vanessa was in part a form of anger turned inward against myself. That being said, I was disgusted with what she had done!

I wasn't going to hide this from Lynn, but it still hurt to talk about anyone else getting so close to me. I had attractive clients over the years, but I had processed those issues of countertransference with my psychoanalyst.

This event was not like this at all. I think Lynn knew this, but it was still shameful to bring this news to her while she was in the hospital fighting the infections in her lungs and trying to build her strength. I could tell she was hurt all the same. 

I could barely speak the words of apology which was strange because I had always demonstrated guilt and remorse, whenever I said anything hurtful to her. I would profusely apologize. Now, I wanted to keep the thought, image, and idea so far away from our minds.

 We moved past this, somehow.  

Lynn’s Hospital Struggles

I stayed and watched her try to walk around the unit and she had to do that with an oxygen tank by her side. Any moment she might need help.

I would be told that I needed to stay in the dorms, and couldn't stay all night with Lynn in the hospital but that was not enforced. I would curl up next to Lynn and hold her trying not to hurt her arm where the IV had been inserted. I am sure the nurses could see that I was crying when Lynn had faded off to sleep. I was trying to be strong for her when she was awake.  

I would take her down to the lobby and outside for fresh air. Her mother was visiting as well, but that hardly registered with me. All my thoughts were with Lynn.  

Let me repeat that again. All my thought were with Lynn.  

Occasionally, I registered that my family barely showed any concern at all for what I was experiencing. 

What we were experiencing. 

Some of these insights only recently came to me. At the time, I was too focused on Lynn to reflect upon how messed up my parents and siblings were.

They didn't come to visit Lynn or me. I mean for all practical purposes; Lynn was like a daughter-in-law. We didn't have a wedding and they knew why - it was related to Lynn's health and need for insurance. The failure of my siblings and parents to visit Lynn disgusted me.  

I was also shocked that they had not been there to visit Lynn because it just didn't make sense even for them. They were never the most sentimental or emotional people, but this was just so extreme. Their seeming indifference made no sense to me. I was not spending much of my time thinking about things like that, though.

Problems with My Career

I had to explain to Lynn what was happening with my career. I said that the North Carolina Social Work Certification and Licensure Board (NCSWCLB) had received five complaints from individuals who I thought were associated with Freifeld. I was still getting information drip by drip.

I had malpractice insurance and I was assigned a lawyer by the insurance company. 

I would later be informed that the grievances were known to have been composed by John Freifeld. I would also learn that the grievance statements to the NCSWCLB were all the same - verbatim. My lawyer would convey this to me over time.  

Lynn didn’t need to hear all the details about the nature of the complaints.

This was stressful enough for her. I knew that she wanted me to be happy and that this was overwhelming her.

Lynn's Future After the Hospital

Lynn's health was stressful enough without these things happening also. She said she couldn't focus on healing and help me deal with everything I was going through in my career and in my life.  

I had the bright idea of renting a room for a couple of days to a guy. I can't even remember how I found someone to rent a room in our home. 

No, he wasn't a client of mine. It's reasonable to wonder about that because, at this time in August of 2000, my life was for the most part split between taking care of Lynn, being at the hospital with Lynn, or worrying about her well-being and trying to make money.  

This guy to whom I rented a room ended up stealing my car. I had left my car keys out and he drove off with my car. I called the police, but they couldn't call it a theft at first because he had lived here. That seemed strange. 

Eventually, the car was located, and I found out that it was totaled. This was another stressor making Lynn's life miserable because she had cosigned for the car and we owed money on the car. This was the last thing I had intended to have happened!  

Lynn’s Concerns About Her Discharge

Lynn was concerned that I also had not kept the home clean enough for her and she was going to have to be on IV antibiotics when she was sent home. This was to keep fighting the infections in her lungs. As I explained elsewhere, the infections were scarring her lungs. 

Lynn was worried that because I had not kept things clean enough, the dust and other particulates in the air would affect her lungs and cause more infections. So, she said she was going to move in with her mother when she was discharged.  

What could I do at this point? She was also overwhelmed by everything I was experiencing in my life and she couldn't face all this. 

Only years later would I put together the fact that she was so overwhelmed because of her love for me and her desire to see me happy and successful. So, just as her illness affected me, so had the failure of my career and my private practice affected her. 

It was all too much for her. I felt survivor's guilt in a way. I wasn't the one with a deadly disease. Lynn was only 34 and it seemed like she might die. So, it wasn't like I could say that I am having a hard time myself. At least that was what was going through my mind. I was constantly beating up on myself for every way in which I was letting down Lynn. I felt worthless. 

I felt powerless.

Days before, things were normal. We were happy. We weren't focused on the fact that Lynn had a terminal illness that she had been born with. I am not saying we were unaware of this fact, but life just seemed normal... until it wasn't.  

This might seem hard to understand to an observer. I guess we needed to believe that something could be done about the problem.

Cystic fibrosis reminded us that it was a part of our lives. It seemed like a petulant child who had to be noticed. It was part of Lynn. She had that gene defect such that when a person has two copies of this recessive gene, they always have the disease.  

We had lived a life that we wanted to be "normal." Lynn's health had been good for someone with this disease. So, we were lucky. 

Most of the events in this chapter occurred in August of 2000. However, things started to change in late July 2000.  

We noticed in late July two things that were very troubling. One was that Lynn was losing weight, and the other was that she was having trouble breathing. That can happen from time to time with cystic fibrosis, so the full weight of this didn't hit right away.

I had not noticed, but Lynn told me she was having trouble keeping weight on her. To me, she still looked perfect - beautiful as ever. This is one of the signs of deteriorating health for someone with cystic fibrosis. She had to take pills with every meal the entire time that I knew her. It was routine. However, it is a reminder that the disease impacts her digestion.   

We knew that something was wrong because she was struggling to breathe. She would become weak just doing routine things around the home. She also couldn't go to work.  

It's hard to talk about this without crying. I know it's hard to understand what it is like unless you are living with this.  

We went to the clinic on July 21, 2000, in Chapel Hill, which was about two hours away. They admitted her to the hospital for IV antibiotics. They had found on an x-ray that there was a heavy mucus build-up throughout her lungs and there were large black marks that indicated scarring. Her oxygen saturation was lower, which meant that she wasn't getting enough oxygen in her body. This lasted until July 28.

When she got back, she was having the same problems with breathing.

When Lynn started getting sick in August of 2000, she set up a place to eat and watch TV in the spare room that we had. She was short of breath and needed me to bring her food in there. She would fall asleep in there because she was too tired to walk back into the bedroom. We also couldn't make love or enjoy any kind of passionate togetherness.  

Every night before going to sleep, she would also use a machine that delivered inhaled antibiotics, steroids, and other medications to open her airways. I brought this setup into the other room also. 

Lynn and I had never slept apart in all the years we were living in this home, together, other than the month in which I tried to work over an hour from home. That could not work out well for me, so the job only lasted a month. There were a few times when I was on call for a job or away at graduate school when we slept apart, but that was it.  

Wasn't everything just perfect the other day? Wasn't she telling me how close she wanted to be to me? How she said "I feel like I cannot get close enough to you" as she wrapped herself around me and kissed me so passionately. It felt like just the other day even though that was in April. But in May, June, and July, things seemed great and normal. If she had been getting worse, it wasn't noticeable to me until August.

What I mean is that it was almost like one day everything seemed so perfect and right and then Lynn was sick. Very sick!

These changes in her health hit me like a loud, hard slap in the face. Each time I saw her struggling to get enough air to walk across a room, I was so frustrated, angry, and I felt powerless.

I thought "this is not right! She is only 34!"  

She had been talking about getting a Master's in Fine Arts from the University of North Carolina. It was a competitive school.    

She should be thinking about those things! She should be thinking about normal life and a career just like I had built a career. I was so bitter. This wasn't right! It was not fair!

She needed me to bring her meals to the spare room where she was having to spend most of her time.  

She was gasping for air at times. I could see that she was short of breath. It was so maddening for me because I couldn't fix the root problem. I could bring her food and things she needed but that wouldn't fix the problems. 

Sometimes I didn't want to wait on her because it meant admitting how bad her health was, and that meant she might be closer to losing her fight with this disease. I was terrified. I also felt guilty for not wanting to be there for her whenever she asked!

I felt shame for my actions! I do know that Lynn understood the feelings of powerlessness that I felt. She knew this was taking a toll on me. I wasn't being mean and irritable at her for asking for my help. I was in denial.

"Of course, I will carry you into the bathroom and help you shower," I would answer. 

Later, Lynn said she wished I had kept in touch with our friends on a regular basis. She was struggling and didn't think she could be the source of support that I needed. I wasn't thinking clearly enough to think that I should reach out to a friend for support. 

Inpatient Hospitalization

Lynn was admitted to the hospital again in August of 2000.

I was blaming myself for every way I had failed to help her enough. I felt guilty that maybe I had not done enough to clear the mucus from her lungs. I mentioned earlier that I would do something that involved tapping on her back, her left and right sides, and on her chest. This was to break up or loosen the mucus that built up in her body. This excess mucus was a breeding ground for infections.  

These infections and excess mucus were causing problems with her breathing.  

I felt guilty that I had not kept the house cleaner. Lynn was worried that dust and other particulates could get into her lungs.

So, we went to the University of North Carolina Medical Center Hospital in Chapel Hill, because they had specialist doctors who worked with cystic fibrosis and other lung diseases - they call them pulmonary specialists.

The IV antibiotics are adapted to the person's body. They also have different ways of delivering antibiotics. Once she was admitted to her room, they set about inserting an IV in her arm. This time, they had to run the IV all the way up her arm to get it closer to her heart which will pump the antibiotics throughout her body and I guess it is close to her lungs, where the infection was.  

This was unusual, more complicated, and a longer process.

It was painful to watch them piercing her body with a needle. I would NEVER have let anyone do anything to break or bruise her skin under normal circumstances. It was killing me to see this happening as I held her hand.  

No, this wasn't the first time she had IV antibiotics, but this was so difficult for her and by extension, it was difficult for me. I was trying to be strong for Lynn. We were both crying.  

As they finished getting the IV into her, I had to get up and walk a bit to keep from passing out. I paced around that floor of the hospital and returned to her side. I felt ashamed for leaving her. It was just a few minutes and I had made it through the procedure, but I was beating myself up for every failure on my part.

This reaction on my part had not happened previously when she had to go into the hospital. There was something more symbolic and disturbing about this time. This time the reality of her survival was the thing that overwhelmed me.

I stayed with her and tried to do anything she wanted or needed. Anything to make the time more passable for her.  

They let me sleep in the bed with her. I don't think they had the heart when looking at either of us to ask me to leave. I think there are dorm rooms or other places where family members can stay when someone is in the hospital.  

I must have looked like hell. I felt so overwhelmed.  

The days were something of a blur. It felt like a bad dream.  

I would tell myself, "This isn't happening."

You cannot unsee the woman you love gasping for air or short of breath doing just the smallest of things... routine things.  

My entire reality was now like being in a fog, or I felt like I was in a dark and misty place. I felt like I had wandered out into the mist and sanity itself was somewhere in the distance like dim lights along the coast as seen from a boat on the ocean.  

Things were changing for me and I felt powerless over it all.  

I felt such despair and hopelessness.  

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. They were going to find a cure someday. A cure for cystic fibrosis. I had hoped and prayed so long and desperately. This was happening too fast for me. One day you are on top of the world, the next day the love of my life is fighting for her life and might die.

I tried reaching out to my family. Lynn had said she wished I had kept in touch with our friends, but for some reason, I thought to reach out to my parents and siblings.  

I was about to find out that to my surprise they didn't have the capacity to demonstrate any compassion or concern during all this.  

What kind of mother, father, sister, or brother doesn't know that this is extremely painful and a time when I would need help and support? That's a rhetorical question. I am sure that my readers understand the pain I am describing.

In a previous chapter, I said that I was losing my faith. That isn't entirely true. I did pray desperately that what was happening now would change, that Lynn would get better, stronger, healthier. I also prayed that the pain I was feeling would be bearable also, so I could be there for her.

I had those feelings of a fog hanging over me as I tried to navigate life overall. I had an important role to play in the lives of others. I was a psychotherapist.  

The nightmare of everything happening with Lynn was about to get more complicated and confusing.   

I was reading a number of different books when she came to me. I had a few books stacked near the bed. It was April 15, 2000. A normal day in the life of a psychotherapist who felt on top of the world.

Yes, I'm talking about me.  

Two of the books were somewhat related to one another. One was from the study material that I had on psychodynamic/psychoanalytic therapy. I had been pursuing credentials in this area though I was aware that the theories were hard to prove.

I suppose there are a number of concepts from psychodynamic/psychoanalytic theory that is useful to know as a therapist. Defense mechanisms, like projection and transference, rationalization, and repression.  

Then there was a book on ego state theory. This did seem like a valuable framework for understanding the different states of mind that describe the normal processes of life. Making love is a state of mind altogether different than other states of mind - I certainly am not in that same state of mind when I am at work.  

The other book was called "Paperclip Dolls." This was peculiar. It was written by a woman who had different alter personalities put this book together. She said she used pictures from magazines to create a scrapbook that depicted parts of herself. Hmm.  

Was she one of the dolls? That seemed to be what she was suggesting. She seemed to have discovered aspects of herself from the work she had done using these pictures that she cut out of the magazines. 

I had only recently stumbled upon this book. 

I had been searching for information about DID, treatment, abuse, trauma, and other terms. Those were keywords I used in my searches. This was before I had discovered some of the more bizarre conspiracy theories described in the previous chapter.

I had found forums, chat rooms, directories, and web sites that I had bookmarked to explore later. Some of these online materials and forums were directed perhaps to therapists and other mental health professionals. However, even those were available to the public. 

Many confused people could end up believing in things that never happened. Delusions. Some people seemed to have become certain about what happened to them, and yet if it were true, it would be an explosive conspiracy theory or set of conspiracy theories.   

What had happened to these people? So many curious ideas were running through my mind. My mindset was somewhat philosophical. Curious. Inquisitive.

I let that go. I looked up and Lynn was at the bedroom door.  

She had a mischievous smile on her face. "I want sex," she said.

"Me too," I said, my face lit up with a smile. I took off my shirt as she was unbuttoning her shirt.

She dropped her shirt on the floor and removed her bra. Seeing her breasts, I felt aroused and excited. My heart was racing with excitement. I was aroused as I removed my pants. I paused captivated by the sight of her as if I was seeing her for the first time.   

She dropped her pants and underwear and I paused for a moment to take in the sight of her and she let me look. Lynn knew how much pleasure I found in looking at her. No doubt, it felt good for her to know she was so beautiful to me.  

"Perfect," I said. She smiled. Looking down she noticed I was excited, but she let me look for a moment as I paused taking in the sight of her… adding the words "Amazing! Beautiful!"

I started to move toward her but before I got very far, she was getting onto the bed.

She was on top of me, her tongue inside my mouth, mine inside hers. We were moving. She was on top. 

I could feel both of our hearts as she pressed her lips against mine. Her arms around me squeezed tighter and tighter. I could feel her breasts against my chest. 

She said, "I feel like I can't get close enough."

"I know," I said, returning to kissing her.  

She was supporting herself somehow, just slightly elevated near our waists.

She paused for a moment as she felt me between her legs. "Oh, you’re too close, sweetie," she said with a sigh of pleasure all the same.  

This might be confusing but remember, Lynn can’t get pregnant. She was telling me that she wanted to be a part of me when she said she can’t get close enough, but despite that desire, she had to be sure that she didn’t get pregnant.   

She continued to move and to wrap her arms closely around me. Her kisses were so desperate and passionate. She was hungry! So was I.

Our arms and bodies moved as I caressed Lynn and she squeezed me tighter. I had a habit of letting her squeeze maybe because I was concerned about her comfort.

Those words repeated in my mind. "I feel like I can't get close enough."  

"I feel like I can't get close enough."  

I dropped a bit and let go with a smile. She sensed what had happened.  

She just smiled. "I came already," I said.

"That's okay."

She was still above me smiling.  

I asked genuinely curious, "that was good for you?"

"Yeah. I am glad you felt good." 

"But you didn't."

"Yes, I did," she said.  

"Not really," I said… adding “You were so hungry for sex and you didn’t have an orgasm, how can that be good enough?”

"We can do that another time, she said, adding, "I'm happy."

"Wow, so am I," I said with a chuckle. 

I reflected upon how amazing it was that this was happening so often, nearly every day as if we had just gotten engaged… as if this was the “honeymoon phase” that I heard described somewhere – something that exists for one year.

The passion was so incredibly intense. You would think we had just gotten engaged a few months ago... or that we had not seen each other in a few weeks or months.  

She got up to start the shower for us. I lay for a moment reflecting on things. 

I felt a wave of serenity wash over me.

I was in love. Because she was in love with me. We were one. 

"I love you," she said.

"I love you so much" I added.  

I then smiled or laughed a bit.

"What?" she asked.

"I was thinking of that song by the Moody Blues and how I would like to sing it to you, but I can't... I can't sing."

"It goes” ... and I spoke the words,

"'Cause I love you,
yes, I love you,
oh, how I love you,
oh, how I love you.’

I like the way the singer sings those words like he is overcome with a feeling that MUST be cried out the same way you cannot contain yourself when we make love. But it’s not the same thing, I can and would cry out those words in public. Then it repeats... those same words.

'Cause I love you,
yes, I love you,
Oh, how I love you,
oh, how I love you.’"

Then I said, "That's how I feel! I want to tell the whole world that I love Lynn."

I then added, “and you KNOW I would do just that, over and over, no matter how many times someone has heard it!

She just smiled.  

I had the thought that I would have shouted these words out to the world not just after we made love but anytime. So often and in so many ways I felt these feelings of intense love for Lynn and an intense desire to tell everyone about it. 

Shortly later that evening, I was still thinking about Lynn’s happiness and what that meant for her.

I thought about how much I cared about her happiness, her dreams, and her aspirations. She wanted a master’s in fine arts (MFA) – could I help with that?

What about a kiln so that she could bake her pottery at home? Maybe I could earn more money.

I now had a growing client base and an office of my own. I was accepting insurance payments and/or checks for services.  

I was set up to be able to bill Blue Cross/Blue Shield among others... and Medicare. Clinical Social Workers can't bill Medicaid in North Carolina for some reason. We can bill Medicare, though.  

Treating Schizophrenia with Psychotherapy

I was trying to find out if a colleague in the field, named Mary Ellen, who was working with some individuals who had schizophrenia, could find out if some of them wanted a therapy group. She was a volunteer/intern and through her contacts, she had been given the opportunity to work with a few clients in the community.  

They were staying at a nursing home not far away. I decided to offer the conference room as a meeting place for a support group for people with schizophrenia. Mary Ellen and I decided that there was a need for a support group that would be of interest to the people she was serving.  

She started bringing her clients to my office building. Depending on how many people showed up we would either use my office or the conference room.

This was a great learning experience for me. I really wanted to offer something for people who were battling such a debilitating and disturbing form of mental illness. It was sad that these individuals ranging in age from the late 20s to the 50s were all staying in a nursing home.  

I suppose that is better than being homeless. But usually, you think of nursing homes as being there for the elderly who cannot care for themselves. 

I had asked if any of them wanted to meet with me one-on-one for therapy. I was sensitive to the fact that some people might see this as a way for me to pad my income to enrich myself, especially if I met them at their residence, the nursing home.     

These individuals had Medicare and I could bill Medicare. While it's true that this would increase my income and bring in money for me that doesn't mean I wasn't genuinely interested in helping them. They wanted to have someone listen to them and to try and understand what they were experiencing.

They had a doctor that they were seeing. I knew that much and that they weren't seeing a therapist, though they had someone at the clinic who could provide psychotherapy if the staff person was so inclined to do so.   

It had been my observation that some people in my profession thought that the only remedy for schizophrenia was medication. I had noticed this when I was working at Sampson County Mental Health Center. I also remembered that when I was working there some of my clients, if not most of them, if asked, or if it was offered wanted to meet with me for psychotherapy.  

In my heart, I knew that I was trying to offer something good for people who might benefit from talking to someone who is grounded in reality but also very empathetic.  

In addition to just listening and trying to understand their experiences, I used a few psychological techniques to help them build their self-esteem. I also talked about some skills that would be useful in communicating and coping.

This wasn't something that went on for a long time but I did have a chance to work with some clients for a few weeks. 

The Treatment of Eating Disorders        

I did have a client named was Anne Marie who had anorexia which was particularly challenging because starvation can cause a variety of serious physical problems. There are also serious challenges in getting accurate information about binging and purging.  

It would become clear over time that a medical doctor needed to be the one who is primarily in charge of the care of someone with this serious problem. The empathy and rapport that I had developed with Anne Marie were great, but I still had concerns.

What seemed like a great challenge for me became something that was more serious and needed to be overseen by someone with an MD after their name, with admitting privileges at a hospital.   

Anne Marie had returned from college for health reasons and was living with her parents. We were able to have some family sessions as well. I felt it was important to find out about her health when I listened to the concerns that her parents had expressed. 

Anne Marie's parents became increasingly concerned that I wasn't doing enough and that her physical health was in danger. I was not in a position to assess her physical health. I didn't know why or how I was being expected to act as a central contact person for all of Anne Marie’s physical health and well-being. That was something that I had to make clear.

I had taken some training on the treatment of eating disorders, but it could not cover the physical/medical issues.

The last thing I wanted was to be responsible for someone's medical care or assessing a person's physical health. So, I explained this in-depth. 

I didn't want Anne Marie to feel like I was abandoning her or not on her side. I just needed to be sure that there was someone else that she was seeing for those issues related to her physical health. I couldn't be the one that asked if she had kept an appointment with her doctor or the one that weighed her and took other vital signs.  

Like so many others with eating disorders, Anne Marie had symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). There is a sense that you are walking on eggshells with a person who has BPD, where you are challenged repeatedly to demonstrate that you care about your client.  

Sometimes a person with BPD will cycle between idealizing someone like a therapist to hating them. In other words, we are talking about intense and unstable interpersonal relationships... chronic feelings of emptiness. Another symptom that is readily obvious as overlapping with anorexia nervosa is changing perceptions of self-identity and self-perception.      

For a person with anorexia, they might see themselves as overweight even when others see them as emaciated - grossly underweight. The feeling of food in them can trigger feelings of anxiety and lead to purging to vomit the food out of their stomachs after they eat.  

Obviously, this is very dangerous.  

I ended up transitioning to offering mainly group therapy for those who had anorexia. Bulimia was a disorder I felt comfortable treating. With Bulimia people have body image issues and they might binge and purge but they maintain a normal healthy weight.

 A couple of other girls/young women found me listed on the web, in the yellow pages, or through word of mouth. 

Out of this arrangement, I picked up a client who had been diagnosed with Bulimia. Her name was Jennifer.  

Jennifer's condition did not require the attention of a medical doctor as would be the case with Anne Marie who had anorexia.  

Jennifer didn't have this problem. She did put a tremendous amount of focus on her appearance and her sense of feminine beauty. Sadly, this need can make a person feel like their worth is tied to their body image.  

It was hard not to recognize the focus that she put on her body. She had undergone breast enhancement surgery. It would be naïve for us to avoid discussing details like this. These issues were precisely the kind of things that a person with bulimia needs to discuss with their therapist.  

Obviously, a healthy male therapist has to be aware of his reactions when he is meeting with an extremely attractive woman, which did describe Jennifer. A male therapist who acts like he doesn’t recognize things like this is lying or he is gay. 

Our natural human reaction does NOT mean we are going to cheat on our wives, nor does it mean that we are objectifying a woman! Human evolution has programmed us to react in certain ways.

The point is that we were going to explore these issues in therapy - issues related to her sense of worth as a person as well as her as a woman. While it's true that professional boundaries were going to be maintained, it is valid to explore transference and countertransference issues.  

I had studied psychodynamic and psychoanalytic theories, concepts, and ideas. Jennifer was interested in gaining some insights into herself and so this seemed like a good framework for some of our discussions.

We brought out into the open the thoughts she might have about the reactions she might want from men/guys in her life including her therapist. How did it make her feel that she was noticed in this way, based on her attractiveness?

Her understanding of these ideas grew over time. She talked about her experiences growing up. She was open to exploring dreams and their possible interpretations. She was intrigued by the ideas of Carl Jung, a contemporary of Sigmund Freud.  

Any approach that was aimed at insight and seeking to make connections between events in her life up until now was valuable for her to explore, she indicated. With the insights, she felt she was improving, and the binging and purging was happening less frequently. I thought that knowing why this was happening was less important than her interest in discussing seemingly unconnected events in her life.  

She did want to discuss the fact that she had agreed to be photographed nude by a friend of her boyfriend. I wondered when she told me this if she felt that she was seeking to see how I would react to her discussion of this fact. Did she want me to react with interest or excitement?

I asked her, "do you want to show me this?" I was curious as to her reaction.  

"I don't know," she said.  

I was concerned that she might feel like I was expecting her to show me the photograph(s). 

Now, I am supposed to lie to you and tell you that I didn’t want to see the photographs. Right! A beautiful woman is sitting in front of you, and she brings up the topic of being photographed nude and you want me to tell you that I didn’t for a second want to see the photographs? 

At the time, I was still very young and naïve. So, I felt guilty and discussed this with Marjorie who I was seeing for psychoanalysis. She wasn’t young and naïve. She was about 70.

She said, “Of course, you wanted to see the photographs.”

I said, “but I didn’t think that she was more beautiful than Lynn.”

“That’s okay, it would be worse if you were dishonest with yourself,” she said, adding “then you might fall victim to temptation.”

I settled back down into the couch – remember I was lying on a couch when I saw Marjorie. I said, “yeah, I wasn’t tempted to do anything.”

Anyway, getting back to therapy with Jennifer…

Jennifer said that she also was having some problems with a situation with her boyfriend. The way he spoke to her during foreplay seemed to be degrading to her.

That incident with her boyfriend inspired her to ask if I could see them both for couples counseling. Indeed, I had studied this, and I described some tools that I could bring to the sessions that might be helpful in achieving certain goals for both her and her boyfriend.   

We agreed that he could meet with me alone as well - before or after we met for couples counseling.  

This went on for a while. It was very rewarding for me because she was paying out of her pocket for my services, as opposed to having insurance that would cover the cost of therapy. If either one of them or both had been dissatisfied with my competency, they would not keep coming and paying for ongoing therapy or treatment.  

I only saw her boyfriend about three times alone and that was on the same days when we had couples counseling. I did continue to see Jennifer alone. We would examine her interests, desires, and expectations for her future, for her career, and what increased her sense of self-esteem and her feelings of self-worth.

It was great to see how empathy and respect for her had paid off with positive results as per her feedback. Again, she was paying by check out of her pocket and so if things were not working out for her, she had many other therapists she could consult in the area.  

In the next chapter, I will present some more challenging issues that I had to confront as a therapist.  

Lynn’s Extended Family Visits

Lynn had a cousin who came to visit a few times and we went to Scranton, Pennsylvania to see her cousins. 

One of those occasions, when they came to visit us, was in the summer of 1997. This was so much fun because the kids loved me. They had two girls. One of them Becca (short for Rebecca), was maybe five years old when she met me, and her sister, Tammy was 12.

We gave her cousin, Mary and her husband Frank, the spare room that had a couch that opened into a bed. Their daughters Becca and Tammy slept in the other room where we had the bookcase and the computer.

Unlike visiting my parents during this time, it never crossed my mind that there would be an issue with the fact that Lynn and I had not had a wedding. We certainly didn’t pretend to sleep in different rooms or in a separate bed. 

It’s worth noting that when we went to visit them in Pennsylvania, it never occurred to Lynn to bring up the topic of sleeping arrangements. Of course, we were going to sleep in the same bed or bedroom when we were visiting. 

Getting back to her cousin’s visit in 97… 

On the first day of their visit, we went to the beach at Carolina Beach. This wasn't far from where Lynn and I had gone on our first date all those years earlier. 

I loved spending time with both Becca and Tammy. 

We found a spot on the beach where the waves came from the open ocean. And after the grown-ups, not including me, got comfortable, I was being called upon by Becca and Tammy to go into the water.

As we started walking into the ocean, Becca reached up with her hands to me and said, “pick me up.”

So, I held her in my arms and the three of us -Tammy, Becca, and I - went into the deeper water as they requested.

We were riding the waves. 

I was drinking saltwater and asked for a break to wash out the nasty taste in my mouth.

Becca was soon asking to go back into the water.

I looked at her mother, Mary, and asked, "how far can she go?"

Mary said, "as far as you want to go."  

I thought, "of course, it's not like I'm going to let anything happen to Becca. Plus, she can swim." 

I knew there wasn’t a rip current that can pull you under very easily so I felt confident that we could keep going as far as they wanted to go.  

We went far enough that when we were riding the waves, my feet were barely able to touch the bottom without being in over my head. I would try to jump up at times and Becca would stand on my legs pushing me down at that moment when I was about to jump up and over the waves.  

It was so amazing and so much fun. I felt like a big brother or a father figure. It didn't seem that her father had any problem with the fact that the kids wanted to spend more time with me than with him... Lynn's cousin didn't mind this either.  

The "grown-ups" stayed on the shore talking. What I mean is that Lynn, her cousin Mary, and her husband Frank were deep in conversation while we - Becca and her sister Tammy - played in the ocean.  

Yeah, this was so exciting. I think that I was meant for this.

They spent a few days with us, and I became the one that was responsible for entertaining the kids. I didn’t mind and in fact, I loved it. 

I noticed my heart was racing the entire time. I couldn’t sit still. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, though. I just was full of energy and excitement. I couldn’t even slow down enough to use the bathroom; I was so full of energy.

I took both the girls to the nearby grocery store and a few other places because they wanted to spend time with me. I let myself be carefree and child-like. Yes, I was a responsible adult, but I still had the ability to be playful.  

This might be useful when I do play therapy if I get clients who have children. 

Then the girls, Tammy and Becca wanted to go roller skating. So, I went outside in our neighborhood and let them skate there. It was a quiet street without much traffic so that was ideal for this.

During the visit, the grown-ups wanted to go roller skating too. That was the only thing I could not do. The little girls were completely able to do this. 

Lynn and her cousin, Mary and Frank could roller skate, along with the girls but I could not do that.

We drove to the University of North Carolina, Wilmington campus. They had a network of sidewalks where they could go roller skating. We rented roller skates for the adults. The girls had brought their own skates.

Lynn encouraged me to try to skate. I could not get moving. It was frustrating. Everyone else could do this and I could not. I gave Lynn my hands and let her pull me around on the skates for a little while. This was one of the times, other than at bedtime when Lynn and I were alone together. We let the others go ahead and skate while Lynn tried to teach me how to skate.

Her cousin or the girls would approach us, say a few words and it seemed that they could sense that I felt uncomfortable and frustrated. I wasn’t being rude but I said I felt embarrassed.

Finally, I just took off the roller skates and walked a bit next to Lynn. The girls were roller skating still.  

We later drove up to Scranton, Pennsylvania, and stayed with her cousins for a few days. 

Welcome and Unwelcome Touching

What I am about to describe is important to note because not all sexual touching is welcome, and gender has nothing to do with that. I have been touched in my genital area when I did not want that to happen and had said so. That would be sexual assault.

No, means no! No matter what!

Lynn was a bit mischievous on the drive up there. While I was driving, she unzipped my pants and started stimulating me. I said, “what if someone comes up on the right?”

She knew what made me feel pleasure and how I liked to be touched. It had to be gentle and there are places where I do NOT want to be touched down there. But Lynn knew how and where to touch me and where not to touch me. 

This was different than the impression I got from my parents. My mother would describe sex as something she owed to her husband. She had said when I was a young adult that “even if she might not be in the mood, she understood that a man has needs.”

Yuck, that seemed so cold, unromantic, and just plain disturbing. I also had rejected all those traditional ideas such as the man being the head of the household. 

I felt lucky to know that she wasn’t the one in the relationship who had to wait to initiate sexual contact, which was something I had been noticing for a few years now. I liked that a great deal.

I wanted a more egalitarian relationship, and I definitely did not want to be the person within the relationship that had the greater sexual appetite or interests. 

Like the highway we were traveling, the relationship was a journey that we both were on together.

Spending Time in Pennsylvania with Lynn’s Cousin

When we were staying with her cousin, Lynn and I slept on an inflatable mattress on the floor in their living room, but Lynn’s cousin gave us their bedroom to get dressed and shower. 

There’s a contrast that stands with my own family and Lynn suggesting that we sleep in separate beds when we are in their home. Elsewhere I make clear that if I had been more assertive and just said to my parents that is not acceptable and we either won’t visit for Christmas or we will get a motel, Lynn would have gone along with that. 

With her cousins like with her mother, that was the last thing that ever crossed my mind! I felt a need to make that clear.

Again, I was like the big brother or babysitter. I suppose that word is a misnomer when it comes to spending time with a girl who is in her early teens. Baby just doesn't apply at this point. The point is that I was the one who spent time with the kids while the "grownups" did their thing together.  

It was exciting for me. Lynn was happy to see her cousin.  

The girls loved to show me places, where we could walk to have fun - the park, a nearby school with swings... or they would show me things in their rooms. We played games in the yard or on the driveway outside. They weren't tomboys. They just liked having fun and showing off.  

Many people have noticed how much I enjoy and relate well to kids. Lynn's cousin clearly enjoyed, and Lynn appreciated, the freedom that they had while I occupied the kids.  

They could just forget about their kids for a few days!     

It was a perfect arrangement!

Does this imply that I wanted to have kids? Yes, of course. Lynn felt bad about this. She knew that I understood the situation and she knew that I was in love with her.

I might love my job. I might love the kids but being in love with your wife is obviously different. Neither the job nor the kids in my life when they were around could meet the deeper and more profound needs that exist for a person or a couple.

Lynn was mine, chose me, wanted to live with me, and that, more than anything else, brought me the deepest and most profound joy and serenity.

I haven't known anything more profoundly important than this love that we shared. Nothing else has meant as much to me as Lynn.

Some parents have described the bond they have with their children to be even more important than that of a couple. I can’t imagine a more intimate bond than Lynn and I had.

Family life is what makes life meaningful and joyful. Being able to pay attention to maintaining a balanced life is crucial when you’re working in the field of mental health. Some psychiatric disorders impact us as therapists who witness the pain of others.  

You might think I am only talking about the traumatic experiences of clients who have been hurt but anytime one is dealing with negative emotions all day can find that it puts a strain on us as therapists. We listen to the despair, sadness, and negativity of others and it can have an impact on us. 

The responsibility that we bear for the well-being of others requires us to have a life full of joy and peace outside the workweek. We need balance in life.

Wrong Impressions Regarding My Family

Of course, we want those who are part of our family to be proud of us. I was certain that I had the admiration of my brother and sister and that I had made my parents proud. As far as I could tell at the time, it had seemed that they would have been proud of me, finally. Their investment in my education had paid off. I had used it to get another degree, a graduate degree, then to get credentialed/licensed in my field.

They had to be proud. I had not been questioning this at the time. I just assumed they were happy for me as well. I had found love! That would make anyone feel good to know this about a family member. Anyone in any “normal family.”

I was the only one of my siblings who had gone this far in my education. 

While I am not saying I was better than my sister or my brother, but for Carrie, her career landed in her lap somewhat. She had moved back to Connecticut and found a job at Aetna. She learned that by furthering her education she could advance within the company. She shaped herself according to the company’s demands and expectations instead of finding the right career for herself.

Yes, I did it differently than Carrie. I wasn't letting any single company, organization, or agency have a say in where I went in life. I first found the best match for me in terms of a career path and then pursued that goal, overcoming any challenges along the way.  

I used the words "organization" and "agency" as opposed to just using the word "company" because, for my career, people work for agencies and companies.  

Anyway, my career path was carefully and deliberately chosen with the aid of psychology and a psychologist/counselor when I was in college. Then in the many years after that, I pursued employment opportunities based on my aptitudes, interests, and values. While I got advice and support from others, I made all the decisions myself with the insights I was gaining.  

My brother had not excelled in school either nor had he mapped out a specific career direction with ideas about what would be his best career direction. He went into the Marines for a while. He got married and found a job.

I thought that I was the family star and that everyone was proud of me. I have alluded to the fact that sometime later I would learn that this was not the case. To this day, I am baffled by the distance between what I assumed and what was going through their minds… I was shocked to discover just how messed up their thinking had been.

I had told my siblings and my parents why we couldn't have children and why we couldn't have a church wedding or a marriage license - Lynn's medical care could be cut off if she lost health care coverage.  

The fact that my sister worked for a company that sold health insurance was a topic we had to avoid. Lynn had a genetic illness and that disqualified her from insurance coverage. While it is reasonable for private companies to be unable to cover situations like this, I got no sense that Carrie cared at all about this, so the topic was taboo. 

I had been trying to keep the peace and stay cordial with my family of origin.  

Career Success and Friends

My friends were proud of me, as was my wife, Lynn. I had a social circle of like-minded poets who were part of the poetry scene in Wilmington. These friendships continued to grow.  

Sometimes when I was learning experiential therapy techniques that were part of the human potential’s movement, I was able to persuade my friends to participate in encounter sessions. This would be like using these techniques for those of us who are not coming together to work on a psychiatric problem. You don't do therapy with your friends or your wife for that matter.  

I might invite my friends to try something like psychodrama – a fancy word for role playing. Alternatively, I demonstrated guided imagery and visualization techniques. 

It was nice to see that my friends were interested in what I was learning and wanted to try things out with my guidance.

I also demonstrated clinical hypnosis with Lynn. She was receptive to the idea of visualizing her body fighting the symptoms of Cystic Fibrosis… maybe visualizing where the congestion was and directing her body to try to loosen it up.  

Anything to bring healing was worthy of trying.  

Most of the time she kept falling asleep when I did this. This was a bit frustrating to me but amusing.

I guess it reflected the trust and serenity Lynn found when she was with me.  

I was able to complete all the requirements for licensure as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW) within the state of North Carolina before I left my employment at Sampson County Mental Health Center.  

It was clear that whatever problems I had on the job had nothing to do with how I performed with clients or patients.  

As I explained, I had sought feedback, counseling, support, and guidance from my colleagues. I had joined the local chapter of the Society for Clinical Social Workers which had regular meetings where I could interact with colleagues in a congenial setting where we got to share our ideas, request feedback on casework, and learn from one another.  

It is through these meetings that I kept in touch with Chris Hauge who was a mentor of mine as I have mentioned. 

I had approached Chris seeking advice on entering private practice because I looked up to him... I had known that he had kept a private practice for some time. He had been very supportive of my goals as they related to making a positive difference in the lives of others.

The Keys to Success and Accomplishments

As it turned out, Chris said that he was considering retirement and that he was cutting back his office hours. He offered to let me rent his office space at a certain rate per hour if I used the office. This was a very affordable way for me to find success.  

I believe it was about $15 per hour - Chris wasn't using the office anyway during these hours. He told me the hours in which he used the office and when the office would be available. He shared an office with a partner - they had the main waiting room and reception area and two private office rooms where providers, like myself, could meet with clients.  

If I had to build a private practice on my own, it could be challenging to get started. I would need to build a base of clients that would be paying every week for treatment with me. If you rent an office full time you have access to the building any time, day or night, but you pay a monthly rate to do this.  

The cost to rent an office every month would be higher than the costs that Lynn and I were paying to rent our home - though her mother had been renting it to us and therefore we had gotten a great deal, a cheap rate for rent.

Chris gave me a key, introduced me to his partner and we discussed how I would record the hours in which I was going to use the office. He had a schedule I could consult to find out when the office was available.  

There are so many things to consider when you are pursuing a career in this field and when you are seeking to work in private practice. As noted, I had to consider Professional Liability Insurance or malpractice insurance, which are different names for the same thing. Chris needed to know that I had this coverage.

Billing is another issue. I had to file insurance claims for treatment with a client's insurance company or agency. So, I had to get registered with various insurance companies including Medicare. 

I had contracted with someone to do the medical billing as well and I got a post office box (PO Box) for non-personal mail. 

Having all my mail go to Chris' office didn't seem like something that I wanted to do yet. If I did not go to the office because I didn't have a client that day, then I might miss my mail that day. There was a place where I could get a PO Box close to our home.

It's great to have someone with whom you can consult when you are doing all these things and Chris was helpful in this regard as well.

Then I had to advertise in the newspaper and online. The internet was still a bit new in the late 90s, but I was able to create a website.

Other Advice That I Received from Colleagues

It's important to reflect upon the support I got from colleagues as well as the therapy or treatment that I had been receiving.

I became interested or curious to learn something about psychoanalysis and I began to study this formally from an organization that provides certification in psychodynamic/psychoanalytic therapy. The organization provided learning objectives, credits, coursework, as well as certifications for mental health and psychological professionals.  

I would go and see Marjorie Israel, who worked out of her home. She was a clinical social worker like myself and I met her at those meetings. 

Marjorie invited me to her home office. It was an interesting and scenic location. She had a nice yard with flowers and plants in a beautiful and serene garden with a curving sidewalk.

I would lay back on her couch and do free association or recount my dreams. It was reminiscent of Freudian psychoanalysis with the psychoanalyst and the couch. Marjorie said that she had to modify her approach since psychoanalysis traditionally had been done with a client coming four or five days a week for years.

She also engaged in more talking than traditional psychoanalysis.

While so much of psychoanalytic theory is hard to prove with research, I was interested in a technique where I would not be censoring anything at all. I was interested in making sure that I covered everything going through my mind – my motivations and hidden desires. I didn’t want any issues from my past to interfere in my role as a therapist for clients. 

Clinical Hypnosis Training

As I was studying Clinical Hypnosis, I saw some of the ways this can be used to help others deal with various problems and challenges. Some of those challenges and problems that people turn to a hypnotherapist to overcome are well known, like smoking cessation, weight loss, and phobias.  

Anxiety and phobias can be overcome through behavioral techniques like systematic desensitization. In this technique, a person breaks down their phobia into progressively more challenging and/or frightening scenarios or steps while pairing that with relaxation.

So, for example, if one has a fear of flying, they might break things down so as to cover planning for the flight… driving to the airport… waiting to board the plane… getting onto the plane. They would visualize this during hypnosis.

Hypnosis can be used to create a feeling of peace, relaxation, and serenity. Then when the person is in this relaxed state of mind, they can visualize the anxiety-provoking situation. This now pairs a relaxation response with the stimuli or phobic situation, experience, or trigger.

Starting My Practice

One of my counselors cautioned me that Wilmington was a saturated market, meaning there probably isn't a market for another psychotherapist in the Wilmington area.  

I was going to prove him wrong, which would make him happy actually. I mean, he had my best interests in mind. He was speaking only about the market for therapists. 

I did start to pick up clients rather fast. I had selected a few words to use in the advertisements that I hoped would be problems that people in the area had and/or things that interested me. So, initially, I thought of advertising that I could help individuals who are dealing with anxiety, depression, eating disorders, relationships. I added that I could use hypnosis to help with quitting smoking, weight loss, or other problems.  

This seemed to work out well for me. I used a second phone number that rang at my home, but the location of where I was living was not revealed. 

One guy started paying me out of pocket for weight loss. 

Then I picked up a client who had relationship issues. He said that he was gay and asked if I could help. I reported that I could help. To me, relationships require active listening. So, I would demonstrate that in the sessions with the client and help him to learn how to increase his communication skills in the same way.  

It's interesting that people in relationships that are non-traditional relationships will understandably want to know if we are comfortable listening to details about their intimate relationships.  

Returning to the topic of psychoanalysis, we get terms like transference and countertransference from this field.

Transference is about how the client reacts to or responds to the therapist. It can relate to projection where a client projects onto the therapist ideas and feelings that exist in another relationship.

Countertransference is how therapists respond to the client and the client's behaviors. I was working on my own "issues" to ensure that none of my past was carried into the therapy sessions with others and would cloud my judgment. This was part of why I went for analysis with Marjorie.  

Anyway, I also picked up a client who was dealing with major depression. Another issue that I was treating was anorexia. I had taken on a client who was in college and had come home with her family hoping to return to college later.  

Eating disorders are particularly challenging, and so I will devote further time to this topic later. 

My client base was growing, and it was getting to the point that I needed more access to the office than what was available while renting from Chris. I also found that by paying a flat rate every month, I could save money.  

Recognizing these accomplishments was amazing and a cause for celebration. So, Lynn and I went out to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. Everything was amazing and a celebration was called for!

This has been an overview of the various types of clients I was seeing and the problems or issues I was treating. Later chapters will go into more detail so I will ask you to keep reading with me.

First, let's talk about family life so that you, dear reader, will know that I had another life outside the office. 

My Other Family

I was still maintaining a relationship with my parents and siblings. But I only saw them for part of a day most of the time when they did visit.

I think that when my brother and/or sister came they came for part of the day only, as well. I guess they were too good for us.

While I had sought their advice regarding the moral dilemma of living with Lynn and how we couldn’t get married, it seemed clear that they understood I had no other options available to me. And it seemed infinitely clear that we were living as husband and wife and that we made love routinely (almost every day).

Then we went to visit for Christmas, and Lynn suggested that we sleep in different beds because we were under their roof. Symbolically, this felt so uncomfortable. It cheapened the relationship, made it seem less than the union of two becoming one body and one soul.        

In my mind, we had been married in the eyes of God. When Lynn said that we should sleep in different beds at my parent's house around Christmas, that seemed to only confuse me. 

In retrospect, if I had said that they must see us as two people who are committed to one another like any husband and wife, she would have been open to my reasoning. I should have said, “well, if they dishonor our union, I am not going there!”

I should have said to them that if they want me to visit for the holidays, we will be sleeping together like any married couple.

I would be so affectionate with Lynn everywhere and all the time. I had seen my parents kiss, but it was so perfunctory. I am not saying that a couple should make out in front of others, but they should look like the kiss says something like Lynn and I did. We took the time to meet each other’s gaze and slowly moved toward one another, letting our lips meet and pause for just a moment.

I don’t remember my brother ever showing that kind of affection when he brought his wife for the holidays. 

With Lynn and me, it was inescapable and unavoidable… for us to hold one another, hold hands. I also loved this because it was a declaration that said, “I love Lynn!” 

Actually, I NEEDED to be close to her and feel her body when I was visiting my parents. I had never felt completely comfortable with them. 

Despite knowing that what we shared was so right, so blessed, so holy, somehow, I sometimes couldn’t shake the religious brainwashing I had experienced.

I don’t know what I said but it gave Lynn the impression that I had doubts about what we should be doing.

Then Lynn would ask, "do you regret what we did?"

I would answer, "no, of course not."  

I don't think she understood what I was saying because I didn't quite understand what I was saying.         

In my mind, this was not any less holy than the union of my parents, or grandparents, or less holy than any union of any husband and wife. If anything, this was more special than what I had seen. In my extended family, I never saw anything that said, “I can tell they are in love.”   

Intimacy Issues as a Form of Discovery

I do know some things about how couples make love. As a psychotherapist that is something that is discussed. I learned about the male and female sexual responses. I studied master’s and Johnson’s research on activities that are practiced by couples. 

What was unique about our relationship, the one Lynn and I had was that neither one of us expected the other person to have any experience in this area or to be sexually compatible. It was more of an area of discovery for both of us. 

Some though not all gay men do enjoy anal sex. Often among heterosexual couples, this is more pleasurable to the male because they think the anal passage is tighter. While some females may want this, it is more common for males to ask for this. 

This was not something I was seeking in my relationship with Lynn nor was she. 

Speaking of same-sex relationships, oral sex is another way that people express love and is commonly practiced by gay men. I would learn this from my clients in the future.

I knew that this fluid is made up largely of the same components as mucus. That fact made oral sex seem unappealing. Previously, I mentioned when Lynn was in the hospital or at the clinic and she was asked to provide a mucus sample, I noted that I had a weak stomach, meaning it made me queasy.

These observations about mucus meant that I did not expect, nor did Lynn expect oral sex despite the fact that this is “normal” and commonly enjoyed by the recipient. 

No part of our bodies was “taboo” though. We both endeavored to explore anything that would increase the pleasure of one another in bringing about an orgasm. So, we did everything short of activities that would involve tasting each other’s bodily fluids. 

But it was more of a case of exploration and discovering what brought us the greatest pleasure and what we were both comfortable doing. 

I felt so lucky that this was happening. I felt lucky to know that I wasn’t expected to do anything with some level of competency as I had heard discussed later in couples therapy or with my individual clients. 

I felt lucky also that we weren’t talking about sexual competency. 

After we knew what activities, we were comfortable doing we could offer or ask for certain things. I was still a believer (a Christian), and so I saw this as a blessing, a miracle, and a true sense that we were one body. Our bodies were our gifts to one another. And that was holy! More holy than I could have imagined.

As an atheist, I still see things in the same way, but I use different words to describe things. I know some atheists, such as Sam Harris, describe spiritual experiences, but I still associate that with the supernatural and I do not believe in such things. 

I’m a romantic and I believe in the concept of the two become one and are united forever, which is as long as we exist.