Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
Introduction
My
experience
in
the
psychotherapy
of
chronic
schizophrenic
patients
has
convinced
me
that,
in
the
patient's
relationship
with
his
mother,
the
basic
feelings,
those
which
more
than
any
others
determine
the
structure
of
the
relationship
and
the
development
of
the
patient's
illness,
are
positivefondness,
adoration,
compassion,
solicitude,
and
loving
loyalty
and
dedication.
In
this
relationship,
which
is
regarded
by
many
psychodynamically-oriented
researchers
as
being
of
central
importance
in
the
etiology
of
most
cases
of
schizophrenia1,
I
have
found
that
it
is
not
the
often-emphasized
mutual
hatred
and
rejection
and
self-seeking
dependence
which
forms
its
foundation,
but
rather
genuine
love
for
one
anotherlove
largely
maintained
in
the
unconscious
through
intense
denial-mechanisms,
and
love
which
finds
extremely
warped
expression,
but
love
nonetheless.
Further,
I
have
found
that
it
is
essential
for
the
patient
to
become
aware
of
the
presence
of
this
love
between
his
mother
and
himself,
in
order
to
develop
both
a
healthy
self-esteem
and
a
thorough-going
resolution
of
his
schizophrenic
illness.2
The
views
I
shall
present
have
grown
out
of
eight
years
of
work
devoted
predominantly
to
the
intensive
psychotherapy
of
schizophrenic
patients
at
Chestnut
Lodge;
interviews
with
the
parents
of
schizophrenic
patients,
occurring
sporadically
during
these
eight
years,
and
in
relatively
great
number
during
one
year
when
I
served
as
admitting
physician
at
the
Lodge;
observations
of
the
work
of
the
many
colleagues
with
whom
I
have
worked
here
during
this
time;
and,
last
but
very
important,
my
family-life
experience
with
my
wife
and
our
threerelatively
normal,
I
believechildren,
aged
eleven
years,
eight
years,
and
three
months3.
1
Although
Searles
focus
is
on
schizophrenia,
the
mother-infant
(child)
relationship
2
In
a
related
paperThe
Evolution
of
the
Mother
Transference
in
Psychotherapy
with
the
Schizophrenic
PatientSearles
comments
that
his
discovery
of
love
in
the
transference
is
the
most
important
insight
I
have
reached
in
ten
years
of
work
with
schizophrenic
patients,
and
which
stands,
as
[this
paper
shows],
in
marked
contrast
to
a
voluminous
literature
on
the
relationship
between
the
schizophrenic
patient
and
his
mother.
3
Searles
was
age
40
in
1958
when
this
paper
was
first
published.
Review
of
Literature
There
is
a
great
deal
of
literature
concerning
this
subject,
the
bulk
of
it
in
agreement
as
to
the
predominantly
and
basically
hateful
nature
of
the
relationship
in
questiona
view
from
which
this
paper
marks
a
sharp
departure.
A
paper
by
Suzanne
Reichard
and
Carl
Tillman
in
1950,
provides
an
exhaustive
review
of
the
then-existing
literature
concerning
this
and
closely
related
subjects;
it
includes
a
summary
of
about
thirty
previous
writings.
There
is
a
total
emphasis
herenot
only
in
the
authors'
report
of
their
own
work,
but
also
throughout
the
earlier
reports
of
other
writers
which
their
paper
summarizeson
parental
hostility,
with
no
mention
whatever
of
any
genuine
love
on
the
part
of
the
parent
toward
the
child.
[Searles
goes
on
to
cite
other
authors
who
support
this
point
of
view,
including
Ruth
and
Theodore
Lidz
(1952),
Lewis
B
Hill
(1955),
and
Davide
Limetani
(1956)]
In
the
literature,
despite
its
very
predominant
emphasis
upon
the
negative
aspects
of
the
mother-child
relatedness,
we
occasionally
come
upon
a
paper
which
pays
somewhat
greater
heed
to
the
positive
factors
involved.
For
example,
Margaret
S.
Mahler
says
that
a
symbiotic
mother-infant
relatedness
is
essential
to
healthy
infancy,
and
reports
that
the
more
severe
of
two
types
of
psychosis
found
in
young
children,
the
autistic
type,
occurs
in
those
who
have
never
shared
such
a
mother-
infant
symbiosis.
[The
author
includes
Carl
Whitaker
and
Thomas
Malone
(1953),
Abrahams
and
Varon
(1953)
and
Murray
Bowen
(1956)
as
recognizing
to
some
degree
the
schizophrenic
individuals
loving
feelings
toward
the
mother
or
primary
caretaker.]
Still,
to
the
best
of
my
knowledge,
no
one
has
gone
so
far
as
I
am
going
here
in
stressing
the
importance
of
the
positive
feelings
in
this
mother-child
relationship
in
portraying
such
feelings
as
its
most
powerful
determinants,
and
in
regarding
the
overlying
intense,
mutual
hostility
as
consisting
in
unconscious,
mutual
denial
of
these
deeply-repressed
positive
feelings.
The
crucial
data
supporting
my
theoretical
concepts
have
come
from
transference
phenomena,
often
of
a
non-verbal
nature,
encountered
in
very
long-range
psychotherapy
with
schizophrenic
patients.
It
is
the
evolution
of
the
transference
which
reveals,
usually
only
after
a
duration
of
intensive
psychotherapy
which
in
most
institutions
is
utterly
infeasible,
that
behind
what
has
appeared
for
literally
years
to
be
rock-bottom
hatred
and
rejection
toward
the
therapist
as
a
parent-figure,
there
exist
very
deep-lying,
very
powerful
and
utterly
genuine
feelings
of
love
toward
the
parentsincluding,
as
is
seen
last
of
all
but
entirely
convincingly,
the
mother.
The
schizophrenic
illness
now
becomes
basically
revealed
as
representing
the
child's
loving
sacrifice
of
his
very
individuality
for
the
welfare
of
the
mother
who
is
loved
genuinely,
altruistically,
and
with
the
wholehearted
adoration
which,
in
the
usual
circumstances
of
human
living,
only
a
small
child
can
bestow.
THE
WRITERS
VIEWS
ON
THIS
SUBJECT
The
mother
of
a
schizophrenic
young
man,
in
the
course
of
an
unusually
illuminating
two-hour
interview
with
me,
poignantly
revealed
her
anxiety
concerning
her
feelings
of
maternal
loveanxiety
which
had
evidently
operated
with
regard
not
only
to
her
schizophrenic
son,
but
to
her
other
two
children,
a
few
years
older
than
he,
both
of
whom
were
functioning
well,
apparently
quite
free
from
schizophrenic
symptoms.
She
said,
with
regard
to
all
her
children
as
infants,
that
she
had
wanted
intensely
to
hold
them;
but,
knowing
that
she
herself
had
been
nervous
in
childhood
and
adolescence,
she
had
been
afraid
that
her
holding
them
would
cause
them
to
become
nervous.
'I
enjoyed
it
so
intensely,
holding
them,
that
I
wondered
if
there
were
something
wrong
with
me.
You
knowhaving
a
baby's
head
on
your
shoulder,
and
cuddling
it.'
She
said
this
in
a
tone
of
unmistakably
genuine
yearning
to
express
her
love.
She
went
on,
in
a
pathetically
uncertain
way,
'Over
the
years
I've
wondered'
about
the
feeling,
wondered
whether
it
were
a
normal
feeling.
She
said
that
in
recent
years
she
had
been
pleased
to
find
that
she
had
felt
this
same
feeling
towards
her
grand-children
while
holding
them;
these
experiences,
occurring
several
years
after
her
own
reproductive
life
was
over,
she
had
found
reassuring,
for
'I
felt
it
was
me,
and
not
because
of
my
glands,
like
a
mother
kitten.'3
It
seemed
that
she
regarded
her
own
maternal
feelings
as
being
subhuman,
and
threatening,
therefore,
to
have
a
dehumanizing
effect
upon
her
babies.
-----------------------------------------
3
Her
use
of
the
curious
phrase
'mother
kitten',
rather
than
'mother
cat',
is
significant:
this
woman,
like
other
mothers
of
schizophrenic
patients
whom
I
have
seen,
had
much
about
her
that
was
touchingly
childlike.
The
typical
mother
of
the
schizophrenic
is,
in
my
experience,
a
kind
of
mother-child
(mother-kitten).
-----------------------------------------
So
far,
as
regards
the
mother's
psychodynamics
which
are
relevant
in
this
paper,
I
have
been
dealing
with
her
fear
of
her
own
love-feelings.
The
second
factor
which
I
wish
to
mention
is
her
low
self-esteem.
Her
low
self-esteem
will
come
to
have,
as
I
shall
shortly
show,
traumatic
effects
upon
her
relationship
with
her
child,
on
at
least
two
scores.
It
will
interfere
with
her
receptivity
of
the
child's
loving
solicitude
and
helpfulness,
so
that
the
child
will
be
hampered
in
the
development
of
a
sense
of
personal
worth
in
relation
to
the
most
important
individual
in
his
life;
he
will
tend
to
feel
worthless
to,
and
unneeded
by,
his
mother.
And
the
mother's
low
self-esteem
will
interfere
also
with
the
child's
idolizing
of
herwith
the
development
and
maintenance
of
the
kind
of
relationship
which
the
young
child
needs
to
have
with
his
mother
in
order
to
develop
constructive
identifications
with
her
At
what
phase
in
the
patient's
life
his
mother
brings
these
transference
feelings
to
bear
upon
him
I
do
not
know.
My
impression
is
that
the
timing
may
vary
considerably
in
various
instances;
for
some
children
it
is
in
late
infancy,
for
others
in
early
infancy,
for
others
at
birth,
and
not
a
few,
I
believe,
before
birth.
The
Needs
of
the
Normal
Infant
and
Child
Throughout
most
of
the
literature
concerning
the
etiology
of
schizophrenic
illness
and
in
fact
that
concerning
the
psychogenesis
of
any
variety
of
psychiatric
illness
there
is
an
almost
exclusive
emphasis
upon
the
infant's
(and
child's)
need
to
receive
love,
and
upon
the
failure
of
those
about
him
to
give
him
the
love
he
needed.
What
is
usually
overlooked
is
the
fact
that
the
infant
and
child
has
an
equally
great
need,
from
the
first,
to
express
his
own
love
to
others.
Much
of
this
literature
portrays
the
newborn
baby,
for
example,
as
being
totally
receiving,
as
though
those
in
his
environmentincluding
his
motherreceived
nothing
of
value
from
him.
My
belief,
by
contrast,
is
that
the
infant
and
child
normally
gives,
and
needs
to
give,
at
least
as
much
as
he
receives.
For
example,
the
lactating
mother
whose
breasts
are
painfully
swollen
with
milk
has
a
need
to
be
nursed
which
is
no
less
urgent
than
is
the
hungry
infant's
need
to
nurse.
Here
we
see,
in
this
basic
situation,
that
genuine
receptiveness
(as
personified
by
the
nursing
infant)
bestows,
in
the
same
process,
a
gifta
joy,
a
relief,
an
enriching
experience,
on
the
giver.
And
in
many
other
ways
the
newborn
infant
offers
rich
rewards
to
the
parent.
He
provides
one
with
an
object
whom
one
can
wholeheartedly
love
with
a
simplicity,
a
relative
freedom
from
ambivalence,
which
is
most
difficult,
if
not
impossible,
of
attainment
in
the
more
complex
relationships
which
exist
between
two
many-faceted
adults.
I
share
with
W.
R.
D.
Fairbairn
and
Melanie
Klein
the
conviction
that
the
infant
is
object-related
from
the
very
beginning;
but
I
do
not
adhere
to
Klein's
concept
of
an
innate
death
instinct,
as
paraphrased
here
by
Paula
Heimann,
the
infant
from
the
beginning
of
life
is
under
the
influence
of
the
two
primary
instincts
of
life
and
death.
Their
derivatives
in
the
form
of
self-preservative
and
libidinal
impulses
on
the
one
hand
and
of
destructive
and
cruel
cravings
on
the
other
are
active
from
the
beginning
of
life.
(8,
p.
35.)
I
am
convinced,
from
daily-life
observations
of
infants
and
young
children,
and
from
psychoanalytic
and
psychotherapeutic
work
with
neurotic
and
psychotic
adults,
that
lovingness
is
the
basic
stuff
of
human
personality,
that
it
is
with
a
wholehearted
openness
to
loving
relatedness
that
the
newborn
infant
responds
to
the
outside
world,
with
an
inevitable
admixture
of
cruelty
and
destructiveness
ensuing
only
laterbeing
deposited
on
top
of
the
basic
bedrock
of
lovingnessas
a
result
of
hurtful
and
anxiety-arousing
interpersonal
experience.
It
seems
to
me
that
lovingness
is
at
its
most
pure,
its
most
wholly
pervasive,
in
the
personality
of
the
newborn
infant,
and
that
the
adult
is
loving
in
proportion
as
he
can
effect
contact
with
the
loving
infant
and
young
child
in
himself.
That
the
infant
and
the
young
child
express
lovingness
in
not
only
warmly
receptive,
but
also
in
actively
outgoing
behaviour,
is
something
which,
I
believe,
any
thoughful
and
observant
parent
can
attest,
once
he
has
set
about
seeing
how
much
he
receives
from
his
children.
The
Relationship
Between
Mother
and
Infant
(Child)
Melanie
Klein's
writings
suggest
that
she
would
regard
filial
love-feelings
as
I
have
described
(i.e.
solicitude
towards
the
mother,
and
a
struggling
to
relieve
her
personality-difficulties)
as
being
secondary
to
destructive
feelings
towards
the
mother.
I
regard
these
as
evidences
of
basic
love,
whereas
Klein
refers
to
'making
reparation'
in
apparently
this
same
regard,
as
one
sees
in
these
passages:
the
leading
female
anxiety
situation:
the
mother
is
felt
to
be
the
primal
persecutor
who,
as
an
external
and
internalized
object,
attacks
the
child's
body
and
takes
from
it
her
imaginary
children.
These
anxieties
arise
from
the
girl's
phantasied
attacks
on
the
mother's
body,
which
aim
at
robbing
her
of
its
contents,
i.e.
of
faeces,
of
the
father's
penis,
and
of
children,
and
result
in
the
fear
of
retaliation
by
similar
attacks.
Such
persecutory
anxieties
I
found
combined
or
alternating
with
deep
feelings
of
depression
and
guilt,
and
these
observations
then
led
to
my
discovery
of
the
vital
part
which
the
tendency
to
make
reparation
plays
in
mental
life
it
includes
the
variety
of
processes
by
which
the
ego
feels
it
undoes
harm
done
in
phantasy,
restores,
preserves,
and
revives
objects.
The
importance
of
this
tendency,
bound
up
as
it
is
with
feelings
of
guilt,
also
lies
in
the
major
contribution
it
makes
to
all
sublimations,
and
in
this
way
to
mental
health.
(11,
p.
15.)
It
is
my
impression
that
the
tragedy
in
the
child's
relationship
with
his
mother
becomes
crystallized,
leaving
his
personality
ripe
for
the
development
of
schizophrenia,
in
that
phase
of
his
childhood
when
a
child
normally
experiences
a
'crush
on'
each
of
his
parents
[around
1
to
8
years
of
age].
During
this
phase,
his
two
parents
are
of
tremendous
importance
to
his
ego-building
through
his
identifying
with
them,
as
regards
their
admirable
personality-traits.
This
process
of
identification,
quite
different
from
unconscious,
neurotic
identification
with
the
other's
objectionable
traits
as
a
means
of
warding
off
anxiety
in
the
relationship,
needs
to
proceed
in
a
medium
of
the
child's
consciously
idolizing
the
parent,
and
of
the
parent's
welcoming
the
child's
admiration
of,
and
desire
to
be
like,
him
or
her.
To
focus
again
upon
the
mother's
relationship
with
the
child,
the
evidence
is
that
it
is
in
this
'crush'
phase
of
childhood
that
the
child's
relationship
with
the
mother
comes
to
its
greatest
grief
It
is
no
coincidence
that
frequently
the
overt
schizophrenia,
later
in
life,
is
precipitated
by
some
'crush'
which
has
an
outcome
injurious
to
the
individual's
self-esteem.
Such
an
experience
reactivates
the
feelings
of
anxiety,
rage,
worthlessness,
despair,
and
grief
which
were
kindled
originally
in
the
prototype
experience
with
the
mother.
The
childhood
disillusionment
involves
the
mother's
failing
the
child,
because
of
her
low
self-esteem
and
fear
of
loving
relatedness,
just
when
he
particularly
needs
to
perceive
her
as
admirable
and
worthy
of
emulation.
She
reacts
to
his
adoration
with
heightened
anxiety
and,
presumably,
loosening
of
her
precarious
ego-integration.
The
child
is
thus
faced
with
an
object
for
his
identificatory
strivings
who
is
both
low
in
self-esteem
and
somewhat
ego-fragmented,
and
the
child
does
identify
with
her,
with
disastrous
results
to
his
own
developing
ego.
He
emerges
from
this
phase,
naturally
enough,
not
strengthened
but
profoundly
weakened
by
his
introjection
of
themselves
to
recognize
its
presence
in
the
relationship;
and
which
carries
with
it
into
the
transference-reenactment
this
same
charge
of
anxiety
In
a
recent
paper6
I
put
forward
the
concept
that
this
symbiotic
mother-infant
relatedness
tends,
inevitably
and
valuably,
to
become
re-experienced
in
the
transference
relationship,
and
that
the
therapist's
job
is
not
to
avoid
its
establishment,
but
rather
to
have
the
courage
to
recognize
its
presence
once
it
has
become
established,
as
in
successful
therapy
it
inevitably
does.
What
the
therapist
can
here
bring
into
the
patient's
life
which
is
new
and
therapeutic
is
something
which
the
mother,
with
her
low
self-esteem
and
her
anxiety
in
the
face
of
loving
interaction,
could
not
provide:
an
awareness
of
how
greatly
the
patient
loves
and
needs
oneself,
and
of
how
greatly
one
loves
and
needs
the
patient.
In
order
to
make
quite
clear
that
what
I
am
describing
and
advocating
is
not
some
variety
of
'love
therapy'
(in
which
the
therapist
manages
to
convince
himself
that
he
has
towards
the
patient,
from
the
very
outset,
a
kind
of
superlative,
healing
love
with
which
only
he
and
the
angels
are
endowed),
I
wish
to
emphasize
that
it
takes
a
great
deal
of
time,
and
a
great
deal
of
working
through
of
mutual
hostility
in
the
therapeutic
relationship,
before
the
establishment,
and
recognition
by
the
therapist,
of
the
symbiotic
relatedness
in
the
transference.
Clinical
Example
A
38-year-old,
single
woman
was
admitted
to
Chestnut
Lodge
because
of
a
schizophrenic
illness
which
had
begun
insidiously
only
three
years
previously,
but
had
progressed
to
an
extraordinarily
profound
level
of
ego-fragmentation
and
regression.
During
my
first
psychotherapeutic
session
with
her,
on
the
day
following
her
admission,
I
found
her
to
have
a
shockingly
unhuman
appearance;
a
nurse
had
independently
formed
and
noted
down
a
similar
opinion,
namely
that
'this
woman
looks
at
times
like
a
demon';
and
the
administrative
psychiatrist,
a
man
with
decades
of
experience
in
working
in
state
hospitals,
recalled
in
a
later
staff
conference
his
initial
impression
of
her:
'Katherine
was
one
of
the
most
repulsive
looking
things
I've
ever
seen
when
she
first
came
in
here.
She
looked
more
like
some
sort
of
tamed
wild
animal
or
something.'
Her
history
(as
provided
by
her
parents
on
her
admission)
indicated
that
she
had
always
openly
idolized
her
father,
with
whom,
on
innumerable
occasions,
she
had
gone
horseback
riding,
hiking,
and
swimming,
and
had
played
tennis
and
golf.
To
the
social
worker
who
obtained
a
portion
of
the
history,
the
father
expressed
6
Searles
introduced
the
term
therapeutic
symbiosis
in
Integration
and
Differentiation
in
Schizophrenia:
An
Over-All
View,
published
a
year
later
(1959),
but
written
just
prior
to
or
concurrently
with
this
paper.
In
it
he
postulates
that
symbiotic
relatedness
constitutes
a
necessary
phase
in
the
successful
psychoanalysis
or
psychotherapy
with
either
neurotic
or
psychotic
patients.
undisguised
pride
in
the
fact
that
his
daughter
had
compared
each
of
her
boy-
friends,
in
a
series
of
broken
romances,
unfavourably
with
himself;
and
to
me
he
expressed
his
satisfaction
about
her
not
having
married
any
of
these
men
(clearly
indicating
that
he
would
rather
that
she
were
in
her
present,
tragically
psychotic,
state
than
married
to
a
man
whom
he
considered
rather
a
play-boy,
or
low-bred,
or
what
not)
As
the
patient's
hospitalization
went
on,
it
continued
to
be
difficult
to
perceive
any
indication
of
genuine
fondness
in
the
mother
towards
her
daughter.
I
had
an
interview
with
the
parents
during
each
of
the
visits
they
made,
every
month
or
two,
to
their
daughter.
During
a
visit
by
the
mother
and
a
sister-in-law
of
the
patient
16
months
after
the
patient's
admission
(the
father
being
away
on
a
business
trip),
I
was
shocked
at
the
chillingly
matter-of-fact,
offhandedly
casual
manner
in
which
the
mother
interjected,
'Oh,
by
the
way,
we've
sold
her
motor-boat.
We
haven't
told
her
about
it.
We
thought
if
she
ever
got
out,
we
could
get
her
another
one
anyway.'
The
boat
had
been
literally
one
of
the
patient's
last
meaningful
links
with
life
outside
the
hospital.
Later
in
this
session,
I
was
amazed
to
hear
the
mother
report,
with
a
brittle
laugh,
concerning
the
visit
which
she
and
the
patient's
sister-in-law
had
just
had
with
the
the
patient,
'She
just
kept
us
in
stitches!',
the
mother
explained,
by
various
pantomimes;
I
had
often
seen
the
patient
to
be
pantomiming
in
a
grotesque,
dissociated,
intensely
anxious
way.
The
sister-in-law,
a
much
more
perceptive
person
and
present
during
this
interview,
told
me
how
the
patient
had
fallen
on
the
floor,
during
their
visit
to
her,
'sobbing
her
heart
out'
and
begging
her
mother,
'Don't
scold
me,
Motherdon't
laugh
at
me!'
As
for
the
patient's
feelings
towards
her
mother
in
past
years,
it
should
be
mentioned
that
not
only
had
she
conspicuously
preferred
her
idol-and-pal
father;
but
also,
as
her
psychosis
developed,
she
became
openly
harsh,
contemptuous,
and
(verbally)
violently
resentful
toward
her
mother.
In
short,
one
had
little
reason
to
think
that
there
was
any
significant
degree
of
mutual
fondness
in
this
mother-
daughter
relationship.
During
the
first
2
years
of
my
work
with
the
patient,
her
unfolding
transference
to
me
was
such
as
to
provide
most
convincing
evidence
that
her
relationship
with
her
mother
had
been
an
extra-ordinarily
malevolent
one.
For
the
first
few
months,
she
reacted
to
me
oftentimes
with
a
gushy
effusiveness
which
compared
closely
with
that
shown
by
both
herself
and
her
mother
during
the
latter's
visits.
Her
effusiveness
toward
me
had
an
impact
of
contempt
and
hostility
which
became
less
heavily
disguised
as
the
months
wore
on
and
the
effusiveness
slowly
dropped
away.
Meanwhile
she
often
grabbed
at
one
or
another
of
my
garments,
demanding
that
I
give
them
to
her;
her
history
showed
that
she
and
her
mother
had
often
worn
one
another's
clothing
and
jewelry,
and
her
mother
had
been
surprised
when
the
patient,
with
the
advent
of
the
psychosis,
antagonistically
refused
to
continue
this
practice.
By
the
end
of
the
first
few
months,
the
patient
and
I
had
become
locked
in
what
I
increasingly
felt
to
be
an
extraordinarily
malevolent
relationship.
In
ways
which
were
becoming
steadily
more
stereotyped,
she
was
expressing
what
I
felt
as
an
erodingly
persistent
rejectingness,
contempt,
and
suppressed
but
violent
antagonism
toward
me;
at
times
I
would
see
her
as
a
tragically,
pathetically
needful
person,
but
would
find
that
my
efforts
to
be
of
use
met
only
with
seemingly
intense
dissatisfaction,
contempt,
or
lack
of
interest
on
her
part.
Judging
from
her
facial
expressions
and
from
her
fragmentary
verbal
comments,
I
had
every
impression
that
she
was
immersed
oftentimes
in
fantasies
of
subjecting
me
to
physical
violence,
and
on
many
occasions
she
gave
me
to
feel
that,
but
for
my
meeting
her
hostility
firmly,
she
would
indeed
attack
me
physically.
By
far
the
most
frequent
target
of
her
hostility
was
my
head.
My
own
feelings
towards
her,
as
these
early
years
wore
on,
came
more
and
more
to
consist
in
a
sense
of
helpless
dissatisfaction
with
both
myself
and
with
her,
and,
above
all,
a
feeling
of
being
helplessly
enmeshed
in
the
relationship
with
her.
I
found
my
feelings
varying
at
the
mercy
of
the
responses
she
was
showing
toward
me.
When
she
appeared
rejecting,
I
felt
hurt
and
discouraged
and
often
violently
hateful
toward
her;
I
felt
shocked
on
many
occasions
at
the
vividness
of
my
fantasies
of
smashing
in
her
skull.
When
she
was
showing
contempt
and
loathing
towards
me,
I
often
experienced
similar
feelings
towards
her,
at
a
level
of
intensity
which
dismayed
me.
When
she
gave
me
glimpses
into
the
depths
of
her
own
despair
and
profound
anxiety,
I
felt
deeply
moved,
guilty,
and
even
more
profoundly
helpless.
Ever
more
subtle
non-verbal
communications
became
charged
with
significance
to
each
of
us,
as
I
felt
it;
I
hungered
for
even
the
tiniest
signs
of
receptiveness
on
her
part,
felt
profoundly
grateful
for
the
most
fragmentary
and
obscure
verbalizations
from
her,
and
felt
murderous
rage
in
reaction
to
tiny
indications
of
her
unexpected
withdrawal.
Later
on,
when
this
long
period
had
come
to
an
end,
I
realized
that
my
ego-boundaries
in
the
relationship
with
her
had
become
very
indistinct,
so
that
I
was
feeling
about
as
helplessly
caught
up
in
ambivalent
feelings
as
she
herself
was;
I
had
become,
in
a
sense,
deeply
immersed
in
the
patient's
illness.
But
at
the
time,
not
yet
having
broken
through
to
a
realization
that
I,
a
therapist
over
here,
was
dealing
with
a
deeply
ill
patient
over
there,
I
could
experience
it,
in
summary,
only
as
a
growing
fear
that
maybe
my
hatred
was,
after
all,
more
powerful
than
my
lovea
fear
that,
on
balance,
I
was
basically
evil
and
basically
destructive
in
all
my
relationships
with
people.
I
have
seen,
over
and
over
again,
in
a
convincing
succession
of
instances,
not
only
in
my
own
work
but
in
the
work
of
my
colleagues,
that
this
kind
of
profound
soul-
struggle
is
resident
in
the
very
nature
of
work
with
schizophrenic
patients;
I
doubt
whether
any
deeply
ill
patient
has
gone
on
to
recovery
without
his
or
her
therapist's
having
to
undergo,
in
a
phase
of
the
work,
this
kind
of
inner
doubt
and
struggle.
But,
even
given
this
knowledge
as
to
the
nature
of
such
work,
when
one
is
involved
in
the
struggle
it
is
real
and
immediate
and
of
desperate
personal
significance.
I
would
put
it
now,
also,
that
the
patient
and
I
had
development
a
symbiotic
relationship
with
one
another
in
which
we
were
conscious
almost
exclusively
of
the
negative
side
of
10
our
mutual
feelings,
and
were
subjecting
our
positive
feelings
to
a
severe,
unconscious
denial.
Throughout
these
2
years
there
was
a
second
and
much
minor
scheme:
the
gradually
more
direct,
though
never
very
frequent,
expressions
of
her
fondness,
and
even
adoration,
towards
me
as
a
beloved
father.
In
touching
ways,
sometimes
verbally
but
more
often
non-verbally,
she
let
me
know
that
she
loved
me
as
being
the
reincarnation
of
her
beloved
father.
These
expressions
came
fleetingly,
and
in
one
of
them
she
let
me
know
that
her
life
with
her
mother
had
been
'hell',
worse
than
life
in
the
disturbed
ward
where
she
was
now
living.
But
finally,
in
the
latter
part
of
the
third
year
of
our
work,
our
main
mode
of
relatedness
began,
little
by
little,
to
shift.
She
revealed
feelings
of
guilt
for
having
let
her
mother
down,
and
consequent
feelings
of
worthlessness
and
self-hatred
She
let
me
know,
with
this,
one
reason
why
she
had
been
so
rejecting
of
the
contributions
which
I
had
tried
to
give
to
her:
'I
was
told
I
wasn't
supposed
to
have
anything
here.'
Within
a
few
weeks
she
confided
to
me,
too,
her
fear
of
genuine
closeness
with
me:
'If
we
got
together,
we
might
kill
one
another.'
Hearing
this,
I
felt
a
little
clearer
as
to
why
we
had
been
so
persistently
out
of
phase
with
one
another
(I
giving
at
a
moment
when
she
could
not
receive;
she
asking
for
something
at
a
moment
when
I
had
withdrawn
into
sullen
resentment
or
rage;
and
so
on).
As
the
third
year
drew
to
a
close
I
felt
that
my
emotional
position
toward
the
patient
had
changed
qualitatively,
from
a
former
predominantly
'bad
mother'
position
to
a
present
predominantly
'good
mother'
position.
I
inferred
this
from
my
finding
her
able
to
show
me
relatively
freely
her
feelings
of
needfulness,
anxiety,
and
discouragement,
and
from
my
finding
myself
aware
of
her
as
a
separate
person,
a
person
over
there,
a
person
who
was
deeply
troubled
and
in
need
of
help,
a
person
with
an
illness
which
existed
apart
from
me
I
now
realized
that
the
fact
of
her
being
grievously
ill
was
not
per
se
a
sign
of
evilness
in
me;
in
short,
I
realized
that
I
was
not
her
illness.
A
few
weeks
later,
just
before
the
beginning
of
the
fourth
year,
there
occurred
in
one
of
the
sessions
a
break-through
of
intense
feelings
on
her
part
towards
me
as
being
a
father-figure
who
was
maddeningly
on
her
neck
and
in
her
hair,
a
father
who
had
kept
her
burdened
interminably
long
with
his
small-boy
demands,
like
a
small
boy
who
makes
insatiable
demands
on
his
mother.
I
now
saw
clearly
the
other
side
of
the
I-want-to-be-with-constantly-and-go-everywhere-with-my-idolized-father
situation.
It
was
two
months
after
this
session,
in
the
second
month
of
the
fourth
year,
that
she
began
showing
open
fondness
toward
me
as
a
mother-figure
to
her.
Until
now,
she
had
been
in
constant
motion
of
some
sort
or
other
throughout
our
sessions,
constantly
swaying
about
from
one
foot
to
the
other,
or
glancing
away,
or
assuming
grotesque
postures,
or
what
not.
But
now,
about
two-thirds
of
the
way
through
a
session
in
which
she
had
been
going
through
this
customary
avoidance
behaviour,
11
she
came
over
and
stood
behind
and
a
little
to
one
side
of
my
chair,
and
stood
quietly
for
a
minute
or
two.
This
in
itself
was
something
quite
new.
Then
she
came
round,
sat
on
the
end
of
her
bed
immediately
in
front
of
me,
with
her
face
no
more
than
two
feet
from
mine,
and
said
simply,
while
looking
me
full
in
the
eyes
in
a
direct
and
undisguisedly
friendly
way,
'I'm
tired
of
running
away.'
When
another
month
had
passed,
she
had
come
to
be,
in
occasional
sessions,
an
attractive,
likable,
relatively
well-groomed
girla
very
marked
shift
from
the
persistently
subhuman
appearance
she
had
always
presented
before,
since
her
admission
over
three
years
earlier.
In
this
same
month
she
let
me
know
that
'my
[hallucinatory]
daughter
and
me'
were
relating
to
one
another,
and
that
I
should
stop
interfering.
She
still
communicated
in
largely
a
fragmentary,
obscure
way,
but
when
I
commented,
'It
seems
to
me
you're
saying
that
you
and
your
daughter
have
a
relationship
with
one
another
that
you
want
me
to
keep
out
of,
and
I
keep
interfering,
'
she
emphatically,
but
in
a
not
unfriendly
tone,
said,
'That's
right.'
This
was
an
unusual
and
most
welcome
consensus
which
we
had
thus
reached,
and
I
felt
that
it
clearly
spoke
of
her
feeling
that
her
father
had
interfered
grossly
and
persistently
in
her
relationship
with
her
mother,
although
she
was
not
yet
able
to
make
this
point
in
a
more
direct
and
conventional
fashion.
Six
weeks
later
(in
the
fifth
month
of
the
fourth
year),
however,
she
was
able
to
make
it
very
clear
indeed
that
she
felt
her
father
had
always
been
primarily
interested
in
going
on
trips
or
spending
time
at
his
club,
that
he
had
spent
little
time
at
home,
and
that
he
had
been
neither
interested
in
the
home
nor
appreciative
of
the
efforts
she
and
her
mother
had
made
to
keep
the
home
looking
attractive
for
him.
All
this
came
out
in
the
transference,
with
my
being
in
the
position
of
the
father,
in
one
of
the
sessions.
She
kept
asking
me,
sarcastically,
if
I
did
not
want
to
travel
here
and
there;
she
put
her
bedspread
on
the
floor
as
a
rug,
and
put
another
bedspread
over
her
chest
of
drawers
as
a
tablecover,
and
in
other
ways
endeavoured
to
make
her
room
look
as
attractive
as
possible
for
me,
indicating
meanwhile
that
she
found
me
thoroughly
unappreciative
of
these
efforts.
Later
in
this
same
month,
when
the
parents
visited,
the
mother
let
me
see,
for
the
first
time,
depths
of
subjective
worthlessness
and
self-despair
which
I
had
never
perceived
before,
and
which
moved
me
to
see
her
in
a
friendlier
light.
I
now
realized
that
this
well-groomed,
intelligent,
and
in
many
ways
successful
woman
had
within
her
a
sense
of
profound
worthlessness
which
was
of
much
the
same
awesome
depth
as
that
which
I
had
long
seen
in
her
daughter
who
had
been
leading
a
more
or
less
animal-like
existence
in
a
disturbed
psychiatric
ward
for
years.
The
mother
revealed
enough
of
this
for
me
to
see
that
it
had
roots
in
her
own
early
childhood.
I
now
saw
in
the
mother,
too,
an
unmistakably
genuine
devotion
to
her
daughter
which,
as
I
now
realized,
had
lain
behind
the
artificial
effusiveness.
A
month
later
(fourth
year,
sixth
month),
the
patient
was
able
to
express
more
directly
than
ever
before
a
feeling
of
adoration
toward
me.
Looking
toward
the
window
at
first,
she
said,
'Wait
until
you
see
him!,
in
a
tone
of
breathless
12
admiration,
as
if
some
'dreamboat
of
a
guy',
as
I
then
thought
of
it,
were
coming;
she
had
long
been
hallucinating
breathlessly-admired
figures
during
our
hours,
while
overtly
subjecting
me
to
her
usual
contempt,
antagonism,
or
disregard.
I
felt
like
saying
something
sardonic,
such
as,
'Quite
a
dreamboat,
eh?',
but
held
my
tongue.
Then
in
the
next
moment
she
turned
to
me
and
blurted
out,
'Have
I
ever
told
you
you're
brilliant?'
This
she
said
in
a
wholly
sincere,
idolizing
tone,
as
if
avowing
love
for
me
which
she
had
long
kept
from
revealing.
Then,
almost
without
pausing
for
breath,
she
turned
on
some
of
the
old,
saccharine,
pseudo-admiring
talk
toward
me,
of
the
kind
which
I
had
so
often
heard
before.
But
that
moment
had
been
enough
to
convince
me
of
the
presence
of
this
deeper,
genuine
adoration
in
her,
and
to
convince
me,
too,
that
this
genuine
adoration
actually
was
more
disconcerting
to
me
than
was
her
long-accustomed
saccharine,
pseudo-admiration.
Just
as
her
mother's
self-esteem
was
too
low
to
allow
her
to
endure
open
expressions
of
genuine
adoration
from
the
daughter,
I
too
found
such
expressions,
at
first,
productive
of
anxiety
in
me.
I
regarded
this,
at
the
time,
as
a
breakthrough,
before
my
very
eyes,
of
the
defensive
adoration
toward
her
fathera
breakthrough,
that
is,
into
her
deeper
adoration
toward
the
mother.
Three
months
later
(fourth
year,
ninth
month),
during
an
interview
with
the
mother,
I
felt
deeply
moved
both
by
her
profound
doubts
as
to
her
own
worth
(doubts
such
as
I
had
felt
so
often
in
my
own
work
with
her
daughter)
and
by
her
genuine
devotion
to
her
daughter,
when
she
suddenly
revealed
to
me,
weeping
profusely,
an
evidently
long-pent-up
welter
of
feelings:
'Do
you
think
it
would
be
all
right
if
I
said
to
Kathy,
"Kathy,
I'd
like
to
go
out
to
dinner
with
you.
Would
you
like
to
go
with
me?"
Do
you
think
she
would
want
to
go
with
me
or
do
you
think
she'd
say,
"I
don't
want
to
go
with
that
old
thing!"?'
Then
in
my
session
with
the
patient
on
the
day
following
this
visit,
Katherine
began
evidencing
some
of
the
old,
spurious
effusiveness
toward
me.
At
this
I
asked
her,
comfortably
and
rather
amusedly,
'Katherine,
do
you
suppose
you'll
ever
get
over
that
phony
kind
of
pseudo-admiration,
that
contemptuous
kind
of
pseudo-
admiration,
that
you
give
out
towards
me?'
She
laughed
warmly.
Following
some
intervening
comments
back
and
forth
between
us,
she
looked
at
me,
while
sitting
close
beside
me,
and
said,
'I'm
crazy
about
you,
'
in
a
low,
shy,
unmistakably
genuine
way.
I
replied,
simply
and
unanxiously,
'That's
a
very
nice
thing
for
you
to
say,
Katherine,
and
I
appreciate
it.'
I
then
added,
'Perhaps
that's
the
kind
of
thing
you've
never
been
able
to
say
toI
don't
know,
your
motheryour
father',
with
equal
emphasis
on
each.
She
replied,
promptly
and
seriously
and
emphatically,
but
without
anger,
'Mother'.
Then
in
the
next
few
moments
she
stood
up,
meandered
over
to
the
window
and
then
moved
back
to
a
spot
near
memeanwhile,
in
returning,
going
through
circles,
backward,
looking
like
an
unutterably
touching
and
precious,
shy
little
child
who
is
head
over
heels
in
love.
I
commented,
fondly,
'I've
got
you
going
around
in
circles,
eh?',
feeling
this
as
a
clear-cut,
non-verbal
means
of
her
showing
me
how
crazy
she
13
was
about
me.
I
felt
certain
that
this
was
a
measure
of
her
fondness
not
only
for
me
but
also
for
her
motherfondness
which
she
dared
not
express
openly
to
the
mother
because
the
latter's
anxiety,
based
in
such
low
self-esteem
as
I
had
seen
revealed
in
the
mother
only
the
day
before,
forbade
it.
I
now
saw
the
mother's
and
daughter's
saccharine
effusiveness
toward
one
another
as
not
primarily
a
manifestation
of
submerged
hatred
toward
one
another,
but
rather
a
pathetic
and
tragic
sign
of
their
inability
to
express
openly
their
genuine
love
for
one
another.
With
this
patient,
the
ground
which
had
been
won
initiallythe
replacement,
in
the
developing
transference,
of
mother-daughter
hatred
by
mother-daughter
love
seemed,
in
several
subsequent
phases
of
our
work,
to
be
irretrievably
lost
again,
only
to
be
re-won
in
a
larger
and
deeper
form
after
much
hard
struggle.
This
struggle
went
on
within
me,
and
in
my
relationship
with
the
patient,
for
approximately
one
full
year
after
the
events
which
I
have
detailed
above.
In
the
tenth
month
of
the
fourth
year,
at
the
end
of
a
session
in
which
we
had
been
able
to
communicate
much
more
satisfactorily
than
usual
with
one
another
(during
this
she
had
been
able
to
express
to
me,
among
other
things,
her
own
sense
of
fragmentation
into
six
or
eight
pieces),
she
said
shyly,
but
warmly
and
appreciatively,
as
I
started
to
leave,
'She
said
she
had
a
good
time.'
I
replied
in
the
same
feeling-vein,
'I
had
a
good
time,
too,
Katherine',
to
which
she
said,
'Thank
you'.
This
simple
exchange
is
for
me
of
memorable
significance,
as
an
indication
of
our
hard-won
ability
to
acknowledge,
to
ourselves
and
to
one
another,
how
deeply
fond
of
one
another
we
had
become.
A
month
later,
she
was
again
able
to
verbalize
an
awareness
of
the
ego-
fragmentation
which
had
been
acted
out,
in
behaviour,
throughout
the
years
of
her
hospitalization;
she
spoke
of
being
'broken'
into
'eight
pieces',
and
later
in
the
same
session
expressed
it
as
'broken
into
four
pieces'.
With
this
last
phrase
she
then
added,
insistently
and
pleadingly,
'Don't
let
it
happen
to
Mother!'
Her
tone
unmistakably
conveyed
her
genuine
solicitude
and
protectiveness
with
regard
to
her
mother;
it
was
now
that
I
realized,
more
deeply
than
ever
before,
that
one
facet
of
her
illness
consisted
in
her
own
enduring
this
grievously
profound
ego-
fragmentation
in
order
to
shield
her
beloved
mother
from
suffering
this
same
experience
herself.
The
patient
had
made
this
plea,
'Don't
let
it
happen
to
Mother!',
with
the
demeanour
of
a
little
child.
I
now
understood
better
how
it
was
that
the
mother
had
been
able
to
come
down
from
a
visit
with
her
tragically-ill
daughter,
with
the
report
which,
as
I
have
mentioned,
astonished
me
at
the
time:
'She
kept
us
in
stitches!'
I
now
realized,
that
is,
something
of
the
extent
to
which
the
patient
had
been
protecting
her
mother
from
seeing
the
full
extent
of
the
ego-fragmentation
with
which
the
patient
had
been
grappling
here
in
the
hospital.
She
had
thus
shielded
the
mother
above
all,
I
think,
from
seeing
the
fullness
of
the
mother's
own
ego-fragmentation;
she
had
helped
to
keep
the
mother's
loose
ego-structure
stitched
together
14
Katherine
and
I
had
a
long
way
yet
to
go;
but
the
hardest
part
of
the
workthe
deepest
part
of
her
illnesswas
now
behind
us,
and
I
am
convinced
that
it
was
the
de-repression
of
her
fondness
for
her
mother,
first
experienced
in
terms
of
myself
as
the
transference-mother,
which
was
most
responsible
for
her
improved
integration
and
her
acceptance
of
herself
as
a
female
human
being.
Summary
Concerning
the
relationship
between
the
schizophrenic
and
his
mother,
the
bulk
of
the
existing
literature
indicates
that
positive
feelings
do
not
exist,
or
exist
only
in
much
lesser
degree
than
such
feelings
as
mutual
hatred
and
rejection.
In
this
paper
I
have
presented
a
markedly
differing
concept,
at
which
I
have
arrived
in
the
course
of
eight
years
of
intensive
psychotherapy
with
chronic
schizophrenic
patients:
positive
feelings
are
most
importantly
present
in
that
relationship,
however
intensely
denied
by
both
mother
and
child;
such
feelings
are,
in
fact,
the
most
powerful
determinants
of
the
structure
of
the
mother-patient
relationship,
and
of
the
development
and
maintenance
of
the
schizophrenic
illness.
I
have
documented
this
concept
with
an
example
of
the
kind
of
clinical
experience
which
has
convinced
me
of
its
validity.
References
ABRAHAMS,
JOSEPH,
and
VARON,
EDITH
Maternal
Dependency
and
Schizophrenia:
Mothers
and
Daughters
in
a
Therapeutic
Group
(New
York:
Int.
Univ.
Press,
1953.)
BATESON,
GREGORY;
JACKSON,
DON
D.;
HALEY,
JAY;
and
WEAKLAND,
JOHN
1956
'Toward
a
Theory
of
Schizophrenia.'
Behavioral
Science
1
251-264
BECKETT,
PETER
G.
S.;
ROBINSON,
DAVID
B.;
FRAZIER,
SHERVERT
H.;
STEINHILBER,
RICHARD
M.;
DUNCAN,
GLEN
M.;
ESTES,
HUBERT
R.;
LITIN,
EDWARD
M.;
GRATTAN,
ROBERT
T.;
LORTON,
WILLIAM
L.;
WILLIAMS,
GEORGE
E.;
and
JOHNSON,
ADELAIDE
M.
1956
'Studies
in
Schizophrenia
at
the
Mayo
Clinic
I.
The
Significance
of
Exogenous
Traumata
in
the
Genesis
of
Schizophrenia.'
Psychiatry
19:137-142
BOWEN,
L.
MURRAY
as
quoted
in
transcript
of
the
Combined
Clinical
Staffs
of
the
National
Institutes
of
Health,
Clinical
Center
Auditorium,
29
March,
1956
mimeographed
by
the
Department
of
Health,
Education,
and
Welfare,
National
Institutes
of
Health,
Bethesda,
Maryland.
FAIRBAIRN,
W.
RONALD
D.
An
Object-Relations
Theory
of
the
Personality
(New
York:
Basic
Books,
1954.)
FREUD,
SIGMUND
'The
Sexual
Enlightenment
of
Children.'
Coll.
Papers
2
36-44
FROMM-REICHMANN,
FRIEDA
'Some
Aspects
of
Psychoanalytic
Psychotherapy
with
Schizophrenics.'
In
Psychotherapy
with
Schizophrenics,
edited
by
Eugene
B.
Brody
and
Fredrick
C.
Redlich
pp.
89-111.
(New
York:
Int.
Univ.
Press,
1952.)
HEIMANN,
PAULA
'A
Contribution
to
the
Re-evaluation
of
the
Oedipus
Complex
the
Early
Stages.'
In
New
Directions
in
Psycho-Analysis,
ed.
by
Melanie
Klein
et
al.
pp.
23-38
(New
York:
Basic
Books,
1955
.)
15
16