The Theory and Practice of Group Psychotherapy by Irvin D. Yalom, Molyn Leszcz Read Free Book Online Page A

words: “This is confession day! Go ahead, Charles!” and then later, “Your turn, Louis,” deftly manipulating the situation so that the confessed transgressions became the sole responsibilities of the men in question, and not herself. Each man performed as she bade him and, later in the meeting, received from her a critical evaluation of his sexual performance. A few weeks later, Valerie let her estranged husband know what had happened, and he sent threatening messages to all three men. That was the last straw! The members decided they could no longer trust her and, in the only such instance I have known, voted her out of the group. (She continued her therapy by joining another group.) The saga does not end here, but perhaps I have recounted enough to illustrate the concept of the group as social microcosm.
    Let me summarize. The first step was that Valerie clearly displayed her interpersonal pathology in the group. Her narcissism, her need for adulation, her need to control, her sadistic relationship with men—the entire tragic behavioral scroll—unrolled in the here-and-now of therapy. The next step was reaction and feedback. The men expressed their deep humiliation and anger at having to “jump through a hoop” for her and at receiving “grades” for their sexual performance. They drew away from her. They began to reflect: “I don’t want a report card every time I have sex. It’s controlling, like sleeping with my mother! I’m beginning to understand more about your husband moving out!” and so on. The others in the group, the female members and the therapists, shared the men’s feelings about the wantonly destructive course of Valerie’s behavior—destructive for the group as well as for herself.
    Most important of all, she had to deal with this fact: she had joined a group of troubled individuals who were eager to help each other and whom she grew to like and respect; yet, in the course of several weeks, she had so poisoned her own environment that, against her conscious wishes, she became a pariah, an outcast from a group that could have been very helpful to her. Facing and working through these issues in her subsequent therapy group enabled her to make substantial personal changes and to employ much of her considerable potential constructively in her later relationships and endeavors.
    The Man Who Liked Robin Hood
    Ron, a forty-eight-year-old attorney who was separated from his wife, entered therapy because of depression, anxiety, and intense feelings of loneliness. His relationships with both men and women were highly problematic. He yearned for a close male friend but had not had one since high school. His current relationships with men assumed one of two forms: either he and the other man related in a highly competitive, antagonistic fashion, which veered dangerously close to combativeness, or he assumed an exceedingly dominant role and soon found the relationship empty and dull.
    His relationships with women had always followed a predictable sequence: instant attraction, a crescendo of passion, a rapid loss of interest. His love for his wife had withered years ago and he was currently in the midst of a painful divorce.
    Intelligent and highly articulate, Ron immediately assumed a position of great influence in the group. He offered a continuous stream of useful and thoughtful observations to the other members, yet kept his own pain and his own needs well concealed. He requested nothing and accepted nothing from me or my co-therapist. In fact, each time I set out to interact with Ron, I felt myself bracing for battle. His antagonistic resistance was so great that for months my major interaction with him consisted of repeatedly requesting him to examine his reluctance to experience me as someone who could offer help.
    “Ron,” I suggested, giving it my best shot, “let’s understand what’s happening. You have many areas of unhappiness in your life. I’m an experienced therapist, and you