A physician called me up and asked if I would see his son, who was a high-school youth who had been an ever increasing management problem. They had bought him a car, a stereo set, a color TV; they had given him a very generous allowance, and the boy had just become increasingly demanding, selfish, and destructive of the entire family.
I said I would at least interview the boy in the presence of his mother and father. They brought him to me. I told the boy to sit down and keep his mouth shut, I wanted to hear all the worst things about him that his father and mother could say. They reluctantly told me about his misbehavior. As they talked, the kid looked at them with a gratified expression on his face. I asked him, "Is that a fairly accurate story?"
The boy said, "Hell, no, they left out a lot of stuff because they're too ashamed to tell about it. I ripped up my mother's panties, I jacked off in front of them, I said all the four-letter words I could think of, I dumped urine over the dinner. You know what my old man always did? He gave me a five- or ten-dollar bill, and my mother cried."
I said, "Well, your parents want me to take you as a patient. I'm not your father, and I'm not your mother. I'm also not your equal physically. But one thing you'll find out about me is that my brain is a lot stronger and quicker than yours. Now, if you want to be my patient, you've got to agree on certain things. I'm not going to be the least bit kind like your father and mother. They want to goon a vacation trip. They'll be gone for two weeks, and while they're gone you can stay here and be my patient. You'll live in a nice motel near here. The rent will be a hundred and forty-five dollars a month, and you can order whatever meals you want. You can live the life of Riley. But each day you will see me for an hour or two. We'll find out if you can withstand various and numerous things I'll say to you, calmly and objectively. I don't think you'll like any one of those things that I'll say. Now, do you want to see if you can put up with me for two weeks while your parents are on vacation"
He said, "I can give it a good try. But besides the rent and food, what about spending money?"
I said, "We'll be reasonable about that. I'll tell you how much spending money you can have, and that's all you get. Your father won't like it, perhaps you won't like it. But you can have twenty-five dollars a week, not one cent more, and no credit cards and no debts."
He said, "Well, it would be fun to see what you think you could do."
I turned to the parents and said, "He's agreed to it. Now you start your vacation trip, and at the end of it drop in and see how he's doing." So they left.
The boy did a lot of reading the first few days, good reading. He talked to me about books and we discussed what he wanted out of life. He cold have the fun of making his parents miserable, but what in hell could he do after they were dead? What would he be prepared for? How much money would his father leave him, if any?
After a few days he said, You know, spending that amount of money for one room with one bed doesn't make sense. I'm going to hunt up an apartment, and I'm going to get a job." So he found an apartment to share with two young men. They were both in their late teens, both employed, and they were working hard to earn money to go to college. They didn't drink or use drugs. He moved in with them, decided to look for a job, and got one.
About three days before his parents were to return, he said to me, "The hell with it. After all the damage I've done to my parents, I'm not going to amount to anything. I'm not going to see you any more."
For the next two days I had difficulty in getting the boy to come in, but lie cause under duress. Then I arranged that he arrive the next day when his parents returned. His parents cause in, and I said to him, "Now, you give your parents a proper greeting." He used a four-letter word. I said, "Take off your shoes and socks, go in the next room and sit on the floor, and think this situation over."
I talked quietly with the parents and told them, "You've handled that boy so that it has become a contest." I reported all the good things the boy had done, named the books he had read, said he had actually secured work and held the job a couple of days. Then he had the realization that his parents were about to return and he would be confronted with the same old nonsense. He rebelled, and I had to have him brought to the sessions. I said I wanted to wash my hands of him.
The parents tried to tell me lie was a good boy at heart. Perhaps they had been too generous, too forgiving. I said, "Well, I can't handle him now. And I'm going to let you find out in the very worst way how stupidly you have handled him."
I had the boy sit across the room from his shoes and socks and said, "You're going home with your parents. Now get over there and pick up your slices and socks. Return to your chair and put them on." The boy sat there and looked defiant.
There was utter silence in the room. I waited and waited and waited and waited. Finally the father walked over, picked op the shoes and socks, and gave them to the boy. His wife said, "Oh, no, not that!" When he asked what she meant, she said, "No matter what, you always give in, you weaken, you do things."
I said to the boy, "Now what would you like to do? I don't want an intentionally
misbehaving smart aleck on my hands. If you want to cooperate, I'll cooperate with you. Or you can go home with your parents and think over the emptiness of your future. I think your future is the boys' vocational school, prison, or a mental hospital, and it's not far off."
He said, "Well, I'll go home with my parents and be more independent. I won't use the family car, I'll walk. I'll get a lob, and I'll sell oil a lot of my stuff so I'll have my own money.
I said, "All right, suppose you go back to the motel and pack. I'll talk to your parents a while." After he left, I said, "You've heard your boy's statements." The father said, "I think it's wonderful." The mother said, "Are you sure he means it?" I told them, "He means to promise you the world on a platter, and he'll repeat those promises each time in glowing words. But he won't do any of those things. He has friends on drugs and friends who are thieves; he might join them." The mother said, "I don't think it will be that bad. He'll keep his word."
The boy didn't follow through on any of the promises. He became more and more disturbing to the parents and they finally had him committed to the state mental hospital. The boy called me up from the hospital and asked if I was willing to accept him as a patient. I said I'd be willing but he'd have to be as serious about it as I would be. He stated that after he had spent a few weeks there in that lousy place with those lousy people, eating that lousy food, he'd really be ready for therapy.
His parents came to see me and said they'd ruined their son. I pointed out that they had two other children, and were they going to be as indulgent with them. They said they weren't.
Later I got a phone call from the father saying they wanted to thank me for all I did for them and had tried to do for the boy. They said they were going to handle the other two children correctly. The father has referred other patients to me.
The boy called me a few weeks later and said he was getting out of the hospital in a few days, and would I accept him as a patient. I said I would, and he knew the terms. He had the satisfaction of giving me the hope of seeing him, and I never heard from him again.
I saw no hope for the boy, but I saw hope for the parents in one way. If they
completed sacrificing that boy, they would then be forced to treat their remaining kids in the sight fashion. I gather from people who know them that that has been happening.