you weren`t so ashamed of your work.
«Well that`s everybody.»
«No, it`s not,” said Rebecca, glancing toward Julius.
«Oh, Julius? He`s of the group, not in the group.»
«What`s вЂofthe group` mean?» asked Rebecca.
«Oh, I don`t know, just a cute phrase I heard and been wanting to
use. Julius—he`s just there for me, for everyone, he`s far above us. The
way he...”
«He?» asked Julius, pantomiming searching about the group.
«Where is this вЂhe` guy?»
«Okay, I meanyou, Julius, the way you`re handling your illness—I
mean it`s impressive—I`ll never forget it.»
Gill stopped. Everyone`s attention remained riveted upon him, but
he exhaled with a loud «whoosh.» He looked as though he had had it and
settled back in his chair, obviously fatigued, and took out a handkerchief
and wiped his face and head.
Sentiments such as «good job, you took some risks» were voiced by
Rebecca, Stuart, Tony, and Bonnie. Pam and Philip remained silent.
«How was that, Gill? You satisfied?» asked Julius.
Gill nodded. «I broke some new ground. Hope I didn`t offend.»
«How about you, Pam? You satisfied?»
«I`ve already put in my time today as the group bitch.»
«Gill, let me ask you to do something,” said Julius. «Imagine a
continuum of self–revealing. At one pole, which we`ll call вЂone,` is the
safest revealing, cocktail party stuff; and at the other pole, call it вЂten,`
would be the deepest and riskiest revealing you can possibly imagine. Got
that?»
Gill nodded.
«Now look back on your go–round just now. Tell me, Gill, what
kind of score would you give yourself?»
Continuing to nod, Gill answered swiftly, «I`d give myself a вЂfour,`
maybe a вЂfive`.»
Julius, wanting to circumvent intellectualization or other defenses
from Gill`s arsenal of resistance, responded instantly, «And now tell me,
Gill, what would happen it you were to ratchet up a notch or two?»
«If I were to ratchet up a notch or two,” Gill replied without
hesitation, «I`d tell the group I was an alcoholic and that I drink myself to
unconsciousness every night.»
The group was stunned, Julius no less than the others. Before he had
brought Gill into the group, he had seen him in individual therapy for two
years andnever, not once, had Gill mentioned an alcohol problem. How
could this be? Julius was congenitally trusting of his patients. He was one
of those optimistic souls who was greatly destabilized by duplicity; he felt
wobbly and needed time to formulate a new vision of Gill. As he mused
silently about his own naГЇvetГ© and the tenuousness of reality, the mood of
the group darkened and progressed from incredulousness to stridency.
«What, you`re joking!»
«I can`t believe it. How could you have come here week after week
and withhold this?»
«You never took a drink with me, not even a beer. What wasthat all
about?»
«Goddamn it! When I think of all the wild–goose chases you led us
on, all the time we wasted.»
«What kind of game were you playing?—everything a lie—I mean
that stuff about Rose`s problems—her bitchiness, her refusing sex, her
refusal to have a child, and not a word about the real issue—your
drinking.»
Once Julius got his bearings, he understood what to do. A basic
axiom that he taught to his group therapy students was:Members should
never be punished for self–disclosure. On the contrary, risk taking must
always be supported and reinforced.
With that in mind, he said to the group: «I understand your dismay
that Gill never told us this before. But let`s not forget one important
thing:today Gill did open up, he did trust us. ” As he spoke, he glanced,
only for a moment, at Philip, hoping that Philip would learn something
about therapy from this transaction. Then to Gilclass="underline" «What I`m wondering
about iswhat made it possible for you to take this kind of chance today? ”
Gill, too ashamed to face the others, concentrated his attention on
Julius and replied in a chastened tone. «I guess it was the risky revealing
in the last couple of meetings—beginning with Pam and Philip and then
Rebecca and Stuart—I`m pretty sure that was why I could say—”
«How long?» interrupted Rebecca. «How long have you been an
alcoholic?»
«Creeps up on you, you know, so I`m not sure. I always liked the
booze, but I guess I started meeting all the criteria about five years ago.»
«You`re what kind of an alcoholic?» asked Tony.
«My favorite poison is Scotch, cabernet, and black Russians. But I
don`t turn down anything—vodka, gin—totally ambidextrous.»
«What I meant was вЂwhen` and вЂhow much,`” said Tony.
Gill showed no defensiveness and seemed prepared to answer any
question. «Mostly after hours. I start with Scotches as soon as I get home
(or before I get home if Rose is giving me a hard time), and then I work
my way through good wine the rest of the evening—at least a bottle,
sometimes two, until I pass out in front of the TV.»
«Where`s Rose on this?» asked Pam.
«Well, we used to be big wine buffs together, built a two–thousand–bottle cellar, went to auctions. But she`s not encouraging my drinking
now—now she rarely has a glass at dinner and wants no part of any wine–related activities, except for some of her big social wine–tasting events.»
Julius tried again to buck the current and bring the group back to the
here–and–now. «I`m trying to imagine how you must have felt coming to
meeting after meeting here andnot talking about this.»
«It wasn`t easy,” Gill admitted, shaking his head.
Julius always taught students the difference betweenvertical
andhorizontal self–disclosure. The group was pressing, as expected,
forvertical disclosure—details about the past, including such queries as the
scope and duration of his drinking—whereashorizontal disclosure, that
is,disclosure about the disclosure, was always far more productive.
This meeting was vintage stuff for teaching, Julius mused, and he
reminded himself to remember the sequence of events for future lectures
and writing. And then, with a thud, he recalled that the future had no
relevance for him. Though the poisonous black wart had been carved out
of his shoulder, he knew that somewhere in his body lethal colonies of
melanoma remained, voracious cells that craved life more than his own
fatigued cells. They were there, pulsating, gulping oxygen and nutrients,
growing and gathering strength. And his dark thoughts were always there
also, percolating under the membrane of consciousness. Thank God for his
one method of stilling his terror: entering into life as forcefully as
possible. The extraordinarily intense life being lived in this group was
very good medicine for him.
He pressed Gill, «Say more about what passed through your mind
during all those months of group meetings.»
«What do you mean?» said Gill.
«Well, you said, вЂIt wasn`t easy.` Say more about that, about those
meetings and why it wasn`t easy.»
«I`d come here all primed but never could unload; something
always stopped me.»
«Dig into that—thesomething that stopped you.» Julius rarely was
so directive in the group, but he was convinced that he knew how to move
the discussion in a beneficial direction that the group might not take on its
own.
«I like this group,” Gill said. «These are the most important people