sadness, guilt, hopelessness, and thoughts of suicide. Unfortunately, at the time, few knew about
that
disorder, either.
More troublesome still is how strong an effect depression in the mother can have on infants. Mother exhibited a wish that her child disappear not only so that her own “incompetence” would not be a burden but also so that Tony would not be a burden on
her
.
The result was disastrous. As psychologist Dr. Sandy Zeskind has said:
The mother may reach to take the baby’s hand, but if the baby pulls his hand away, so does the mother. It’s almost like she gives up on the interaction. Over time the missteps add up. The baby displays sadness and irritability and starts to take on the mother’s depressed affect.
In short, depression can be seen as a “communicable disease,” transferred through a mother’s communication to her baby. The consequences for Tony would be lifelong. The brilliant English psychologist D. W. Winnicott reassured parents that it was impossible to be perfect. But it was—he assured them—okay to be a “good enough mother.” From the distance of over six decades and as someone who lived through the life and death of my mother, I can say that she was
not
good enough.
Missy and Dad debated what to do. Psychoanalysis? Hospitalization? They once again decided to rely on Dr. Glueck, who had a sanitarium called Stony Lodge, near Ossining, New York.
When Mother entered Stony Lodge in February 1934, the procedure for massive depression and attempted suicide was twofold: insulin shock therapy (massive injections of insulin resulting in convulsions and coma) and careful observation. Insulin shock as a treatment for schizophrenics and others with severe affective disorders had been discovered in Europe only a few years earlier. In fact, 1933, the year of my brother’s birth, was the first time it was tried in the United States. It seemed to work, though the convulsions it caused were not controllable. Later, in 1937, researchers discovered that electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) was better than insulin shock, causing most patients with severe depression to feel better. Because the convulsions produced mild amnesia (and fewer broken bones than insulin therapy), no memory of the traumatic treatment remained to hinder patient cooperation. After some years of banishment because of its appearance of torture, ECT is back in fashion: much better controlled, and used only for the most desperately depressed patients. Mother would have been a good candidate.
For now, however, there were talks with the doctors, some insulin shock therapy, a ban on sharp objects, and a lack of freedom to wander around the grounds. Shortly after arriving, Mother had tried to pierce her jugular vein with a paper knife, so for now she was never left alone.
Nonetheless, she wrote to Dad almost every day—at first in pencil (no pens permitted), then in ink. The notes began with a few tentative sentences expressing her intense guilt at having disappointed him with her suicidal acts. Later she added promises “to be good.” In her autobiography, which she continued writing after getting out of Stony Lodge, she made perfectly clear that she felt she had
betrayed
Dad in thought, that she had continued to yearn for Francis Froelicher long after marrying my father. Now, in her letters, she strove to make up for those treacherous thoughts.
March 15, 1934
Dearest:
We will move to town; we will do everything that can make up one iota to you for the pain I’ve caused you. You are henceforward my guide in all these things.
March 19
Dearest:
We shall both need great patience but I hope to be really worthy of you soon. Please stop talking about becoming worthy of me. You can do a good job by concentrating on Tony for the present, in any spare moment you may have. I am going to get well for you. If you can be as remarkable a father as you are a husband, Tony will be a very remarkable fella.
But if Tony was going to be
that
disorder, either.
More troublesome still is how strong an effect depression in the mother can have on infants. Mother exhibited a wish that her child disappear not only so that her own “incompetence” would not be a burden but also so that Tony would not be a burden on
her
.
The result was disastrous. As psychologist Dr. Sandy Zeskind has said:
The mother may reach to take the baby’s hand, but if the baby pulls his hand away, so does the mother. It’s almost like she gives up on the interaction. Over time the missteps add up. The baby displays sadness and irritability and starts to take on the mother’s depressed affect.
In short, depression can be seen as a “communicable disease,” transferred through a mother’s communication to her baby. The consequences for Tony would be lifelong. The brilliant English psychologist D. W. Winnicott reassured parents that it was impossible to be perfect. But it was—he assured them—okay to be a “good enough mother.” From the distance of over six decades and as someone who lived through the life and death of my mother, I can say that she was
not
good enough.
Missy and Dad debated what to do. Psychoanalysis? Hospitalization? They once again decided to rely on Dr. Glueck, who had a sanitarium called Stony Lodge, near Ossining, New York.
When Mother entered Stony Lodge in February 1934, the procedure for massive depression and attempted suicide was twofold: insulin shock therapy (massive injections of insulin resulting in convulsions and coma) and careful observation. Insulin shock as a treatment for schizophrenics and others with severe affective disorders had been discovered in Europe only a few years earlier. In fact, 1933, the year of my brother’s birth, was the first time it was tried in the United States. It seemed to work, though the convulsions it caused were not controllable. Later, in 1937, researchers discovered that electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) was better than insulin shock, causing most patients with severe depression to feel better. Because the convulsions produced mild amnesia (and fewer broken bones than insulin therapy), no memory of the traumatic treatment remained to hinder patient cooperation. After some years of banishment because of its appearance of torture, ECT is back in fashion: much better controlled, and used only for the most desperately depressed patients. Mother would have been a good candidate.
For now, however, there were talks with the doctors, some insulin shock therapy, a ban on sharp objects, and a lack of freedom to wander around the grounds. Shortly after arriving, Mother had tried to pierce her jugular vein with a paper knife, so for now she was never left alone.
Nonetheless, she wrote to Dad almost every day—at first in pencil (no pens permitted), then in ink. The notes began with a few tentative sentences expressing her intense guilt at having disappointed him with her suicidal acts. Later she added promises “to be good.” In her autobiography, which she continued writing after getting out of Stony Lodge, she made perfectly clear that she felt she had
betrayed
Dad in thought, that she had continued to yearn for Francis Froelicher long after marrying my father. Now, in her letters, she strove to make up for those treacherous thoughts.
March 15, 1934
Dearest:
We will move to town; we will do everything that can make up one iota to you for the pain I’ve caused you. You are henceforward my guide in all these things.
March 19
Dearest:
We shall both need great patience but I hope to be really worthy of you soon. Please stop talking about becoming worthy of me. You can do a good job by concentrating on Tony for the present, in any spare moment you may have. I am going to get well for you. If you can be as remarkable a father as you are a husband, Tony will be a very remarkable fella.
But if Tony was going to be
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