Chapter 9

THE STUDY OF UNMARRIED MOTHERS

It is very suggestive too that the first anxiety state arose on the occasion of the separation from the mother.

—Sigmund Freud

THESE THIRTEEN CASES COMPRISE A STUDY, MADE BY myself, of anxiety as found in unmarried mothers at Walnut House, a shelter in New York City.1 I chose that particular group because I wanted to study persons who were in a crisis situation. My presupposition was that, when an individual is in a crisis situation, the dynamics of individual behavior are more accessible to study than in so-called “normal” situations.

Since I believe there may be damaging effects in inducing anxiety in the experimental laboratory, I took what may be called “nature’s experiments” for study. The condition of extramarital pregnancy was presumably an anxiety-creating situation in that period in our society.

Furthermore, I believed that it would be useful to study a group of which all the members were in the same anxiety-creating situation. The possibility, which I considered, of presenting a number of cases from my own therapeutic practice, like that of Brown, I therefore rejected in favor of investigating a group of persons all presumably in the same crisis situation.

It should be emphasized that I am not concerned in this study with investigating the relation between extramarital pregnancy and anxiety.2 In theory, another anxiety-creating situation might have served my purpose just as well. The Russian psychologist A. R. Luria selected criminals in jail and students at the time of crucial examinations for his study of psychological conflict. The important point is that it be a crisis situation sufficient to bring the person’s buried patterns into the open. Furthermore, I am accepting the presupposition that when an individual is in an anxiety-creating situation, his or her anxiety reactions are not only specifically related to that particular situation but also reveal a pattern which is characteristic of that particular individual and would be revealed by him or her in other anxiety-creating situations. As will be seen in the actual case studies, the data that emerge in the study of these young women have to do with anxiety and competitive ambition, anxiety in phobial patterns, anxiety related to hostility and aggression, anxiety connected with various inner conflicts, and other forms of anxiety which have very little, if anything, to do specifically with the condition of extramarital pregnancy as such. Most of these patterns of anxiety could be as applicable to businessmen, university professors, students, housewives, and other groups in our society.

I am assuming that the more intensively we study a given individual, the more we tend to uncover patterns which this individual holds in common with other persons in other groups in the society. That is to say, the more intensively we study one man or woman, the more we arrive at data which lie below individual differences and the more, therefore, we arrive at data which are applicable to human beings in general.3

METHODS USED

A variety of techniques of collecting data were employed in the case studies of unmarried mothers. The methods of gaining information directly from the young women consisted of personal interviews, Rorschachs (one Rorschach was given to every girl before parturition, and second Rorschachs were administered to five girls after parturition), and anxiety check-lists. I had from four to eight one-hour personal interviews with each young woman. The social workers had from a score to two score of personal interviews with each one. While these interviews were not geared specifically to the purposes of this study, they yielded a wealth of pertinent data concerning the young woman’s attitudes, behavior, and background.4 Three check-lists—to be checked by the young woman—were employed. The first was designed to elicit the foci of anxiety which the girl remembered from her childhood, the second to elicit foci of anxiety in her present state of pregnancy, and the third (administered after parturition) to elicit foci of anxiety as she faced her problems after the birth of the baby.5 Observations of the young woman’s behavior in Walnut House were contributed by the nurses and other personnel of the house as well as by the social workers. A great amount of collateral data was also available, such as the report of the medical examinations of each woman, psychometric examinations where deemed necessary, reports from her school or college, and, in most of the cases, objective data on her home background gained through other social agencies. In more than half the cases, the parents and relatives of the young woman were also interviewed by the social workers at Walnut House.

The scoring of each Rorschach, done originally by me, was checked independently by a Rorschach specialist. My interpretation (as distinguished from scoring) of each Rorschach was checked by Dr. Bruno Klopfer, who also rated each Rorschach according to depth and width of anxiety, as well as to the effectiveness of the subject’s handling of the anxiety.6 One purpose of the check-lists was to gain additional data on the amount of the young woman’s anxiety (i.e., number of items checked). In the purely quantitative ranking, a check in the “often” column (indicating the girl believed she “often” had that item of anxiety) was given double the weight of a check in the “sometimes” column. But second purpose (and, as it turned out, the more useful one) of the check-lists was to gain information on the kinds (or areas) of anxiety the girl experienced. For this purpose the items of the check-lists were classified in five categories: (1) apprehensions of a phobial nature; (2) the girl’s anxiety about what her family thought of her; (3) anxiety about what her peers thought of her; (4) anxiety in the area of ambition—e.g., success or failure in work or school; (5) miscellaneous.7

An almost unlimited number of data are available in each case study of this sort, data which are neither quantitatively nor qualitatively parallel. In the light of all the data in each case, I endeavored to see each young woman in three dimensions: structurally, chiefly by means of the Rorschach; behaviorally, or the person’s present behavior; and genetically, or the developmental dimension, an important aspect of which was the childhood background. Using these three dimensions, I sought to arrive at a conceptualization of each case, or a picture of the constellation of each personality. The quantities and qualities of anxiety in each case are integral parts of this constellation. It was necessary, then, to relate the anxiety in each case to other elements in the constellation, such as the rejection each young woman experienced in her relation with her parents. To expedite this interrelating process, each subject was ranked by me as to the degree of anxiety and the degree of rejection in one of four categories: high, moderately high, moderately low, and low. These rankings are based on all the data available and also upon the judgments, independently arrived at, of the investigator and the social workers.8

The central criterion of the validity of the conceptualization of each case, as well as a sound estimate and understanding of the anxiety, is internal consistency.9 I continually asked, for example: Do the data arrived at by the various methods (interviews, Rorschachs, check-lists) exhibit inner consistency within the framework of the conceptualization of the case? And is inner consistency shown in the conceptualization from the structural, behavioral, and genetic aspects of each case? Likewise, if the anxiety has been correctly assessed, it should show inner consistency with the other elements in the constellation of each personality.

I may say that in my judgment the data from the different sources did, by and large, make a consistent picture, with the one exception of the quantities of anxiety on the check-lists. The reasons that this item was at times at odds with an otherwise consistent picture are noted in the case discussions.

Some of the following cases, through which it was desired to illustrate or demonstrate only one or two points, are presented only briefly. As frequently as practicable, the subject’s own words are given. In the face of the great mass of data about each person, some selection in presentation was obviously necessary. I hope that enough of each case is presented to make evident the conceptualization of the case and to clarify the points we desire to illustrate. Although the Rorschach numerical scores are given, it is understood that the configuration in each Rorschach is more crucial for its interpretation than the numerical scoring. Unless otherwise stated, the parents in each case were white, American, and Protestant.

HELEN: INTELLECTUALIZING AS A DEFENSE AGAINST ANXIETY

On arrival at Walnut House, Helen walked into the office smoking a cigarette, appearing poised and nonchalant. Somewhat attractive, she exhuded the vitality of a person who cultivates her spontaneity. The impression she created in the first interview was a snapshot of aspects of her behavior which later proved to be of considerable significance.

On her own initiative she stated immediately that she had no guilt feeling whatever about her pregnancy. She volunteered the information that she had lived with two different men since arriving in New York, asserting in the same breath that “only priggish people have any feelings about such matters.” But there were indications of anxiety and tension beneath her ostensibly friendly and free manner of talking—during her frequent breezy laughter, her eyes remained dilated, giving the appearance of some fright even while she laughed. Helen created the immediate impression both to the social worker in her interview and me that she was employing her evasive, laugh-it-off techniques in order to cover over some anxiety, the nature of which was not yet apparent.

She was the twenty-two-year-old daughter of middle-class, Catholic parents, her father being of Italian extraction. Because of her father’s erratic work habits during her childhood, the family had alternated between being well off and enduring straitened financial conditions. Helen had attended parochial schools and a Catholic college for two years, but at the present time she felt she had emancipated herself from the religious aspects of her background. There were two siblings, a brother a year older and a sister two years younger, with whom Helen had close and affectionate relationships. She informed me that the three children had learned to stick together because their parents quarreled so much. Her parents had been divorced when she was eleven and had both remarried. She had lived intermittently with one and then the other, having to leave the father at one time because her stepmother was “jealous of my being more attractive,” and having to leave the mother because the stepfather, and later the mother’s lovers, made advances to her.

Her two years at college had been on a scholarship, where she had done brilliant but erratic academic work. Since leaving college she had held routine jobs such as operating mimeograph machines. Because of boredom she would quit her job every two or three months, “and then is when I would get into difficulty”—i.e., she would live with a man. Her hope was to write radio scripts. The sample scripts she had written which she showed me seemed to be very good technically but artificial in content and lacking in genuine feeling.

Two years earlier she had come to New York with an unmarried aunt two years her senior, with whom she had a very affectionate relationship. The aunt was also now pregnant and had gone to another city. Helen commented, “She has made a mess of her life too.” The father of Helen’s baby, the second man with whom she had shared an apartment since coming to New York, was a member of the merchant marine. Though she described him as an intelligent person whom she had liked, she had experienced a profound revulsion toward him after she discovered she was pregnant and had broken off all contact with him. Helen’s medical examination was negative; she was described as “nervous and high-strung” and was placed by the psychiatrist on a daily dose of phenobarbital.

The most immediate focus of Helen’s anxiety seemed to be her pregnancy and impending parturition. This, with its related defenses of intellectualizing, laughing-it-off, and evasion, was evidenced not only in our interviews with her but in her behavior with the other young women in the house. She regularly refused to discuss her pregnancy with the social worker, insisting, “It just seems to me I’m not pregnant, and until the baby is born I refuse to give it a thought.” But it was observed that she spent a great deal of time discussing pregnancy in an intellectualized, quasi-scientific manner with the others in the house. She described to them the fetus at various stages in its development as though she were talking from a scientific manual. One day she received a letter from her aunt, telling of the latter’s having gone to the hospital for parturition; Helen reacted with a fit of hysterical weeping. It was evident that she displaced much of her own anxiety about parturition on the aunt, but when the social worker pointed this out, Helen still refused to talk about her own pregnancy.

When I indicated that her Rorschach suggested she felt anxious about going to the hospital for the birth, Helen replied:

No, I haven’t the slightest fear. In the event of death or making provision for the baby to be taken care of, I just think, “how dramatic!” But the girls around here are always telling hideous stories of births. They tell of doctors standing over them in the hospital and all the details. They tell terrible stories of women screaming. They tell of Caesarean and forceps births, and they say, “You’re just the one to have one.” They tell a lot of old wives’ tales about every heart-throb giving the baby a mark. They go around feeling each other’s stomachs; they want to feel mine but I won’t let them. I won’t even feel it myself. (Her hands had been folded on her abdomen; at this point she violently jerked them away.) I guess the fact that I’m not afraid shows in the fact that I’m so impatient to go to the hospital. I’m willing to suffer the punishments of the damned to get it over quickly.

The reader will agree, I assume, that this speech, combining emphases on catastrophe and urgency, reveals a very frightened person. It suggests the typical picture of someone whistling in the dark, putting up a front of dramatic bravado toward the prospect she dreads most. This reminds us of the observation of R. R. Grinker and S. P. Spiegel in Men under Stress, that the anxious airman would be the first to get himself into the air and into a situation of danger, the danger itself being less painful than the anticipation of it.

Helen’s bravado and laughing-it-off techniques of allaying anxiety were so well developed that they were carried right up to parturition itself: on departing for the hospital she left a note for me, “I’m off to get myself a new figure.” The obstetrician reported that her last words before going under ether were, “This has got to be adoptable material.”

The chief facts that stood out in Helen’s description of her childhood were the violent quarrels of her parents, the frequent periods of upheaval in the family group (parental divorce, conflict with stepparents, etc.), and Helen’s testimony to her considerable loneliness as a child. There was evidence for much outright rejection of her, as well as of the other children, by her father. She recalled that his regular practice was to deposit the children at the movies all day while he played golf. He would then come home drunk, and a quarrel between the parents would ensue.

Her present attitude toward her mother was one of pity, with resentment at her mother’s “disloyalty” toward her. This “loyalty” had been felt by Helen since she was fifteen, when she and her mother had begun to quarrel violently. Her reasons for thinking her mother disloyal were (a) the mother’s ill-considered love affairs; (b) the fact that the mother now permitted the sister to have more influence over her than Helen; and (c) the fact that her mother had served a short prison sentence for involvement in some minor crime. This is another aspect of the contradiction in Helen over guilt feeling and moral standards: she held her mother responsible for infractions which apparently have a moral character despite her protest that she and her mother were entirely emancipated from moral standards.

It is difficult to determine with any clarity Helen’t attitude toward her mother during early childhood. She speaks of being “excessively devoted” to her mother as a child, but it was my impression that this “devotion” was really a construct from the fact that at that age Helen was considered the favorite child by the mother. Definite indications of hostility and resentment toward both parents, and especially the mother, were present in Helen’s Rorschach and in the interviews. One such response on the Rorschach was “children scaring their parents to death,” and another was “Brownies with round bellies laughing with great pleasure because they have just pulled a hot joke, messing up the housewife’s floor.” This last response suggests that her pregnancy is associated with aggression against her mother. The hostile, aggressive elements in both these responses were omitted in the Rorschach after parturition, the Brownies now specifically described by Helen as “wistful, not malicious.” Likewise the aggression and hostility toward her parents, especially toward her mother, diminished after parturition. Several hypotheses suggest themselves: she was more anxious before parturition and, therefore, felt more hostility and aggression, or she employed the pregnancy as a weapon against the parents and after birth this weapon could be discarded. Finally, she may have held them in some way responsible for her being in this difficult state of pregnancy.

The above motif of “disloyalty,” quite apart from its content, implies strong disappointment with, and resentment toward, her mother. Since the objective data indicate that her mother was a very unstable, inconsistent, and emotionally immature person, the hypothesis is justified that Helen experienced considerable rejection in her early as well as her later relations with her mother. This rejection probably was all the more painful and psychologically significant for Helen because of her having been at the same time the “favorite” child. We placed Helen in the moderately high category with respect to rejection by her parents.

Helen’s Rorschach indicated superior intellectual capacity but uneven performance, much originality and variety of interest, much emotional responsiveness but of an impulse variety and unintegrated with her intellectual functions.10 Her emotional responsiveness was regularly experienced as disturbing and upsetting to her rational control. Her response to several of the colored cards, “muddy, turbid waters,” was an apt description of how she viewed her emotional responsiveness when she could not control it intellectually. Anxiety signs were slight shading shock (connected in part with sexual problems), a large number of diffusion responses, and intermittent vagueness and evasiveness. The Whole compulsion (66 per cent) in this record is not only indicative of evasiveness as a symptom of anxiety, but also of intellectual ambition. It was the record of a “bright” person who must breeze through everything.

I find three main centers of anxiety in the content. First, social disapproval and guilt feeling; second, competitive ambition; and third, her pregnancy and impending trip to the hospital for parturition. Her anxiety was, in general, of the unsymstematized, intermittent kind. It was deeply disturbing, but she was able to recover from it quickly. Her chief methods of dealing with this dread were intellectualizing, “laughing-it-off,” denial, and evasion.11 We rated her with respect to anxiety on the Rorschach: depth 4, width 2, handling 2. This placed her in the moderately high category of anxiety in rank with the other girls. Her childhood anxiety checklist ranks in the high category with respect to quantity of anxiety, the chief areas of anxiety being ambition, and what her friends and her family thought of her, in that order.

Let us first discuss Helen’s anxiety as it focused on her pregnancy and impending trip to the hospital for the birth of the baby. She showed considerable anxiety in six responses of “X-rays” and “medical illustrations” on her Rorschach. We may conclude that this is anxiety attached to her anticipation of parturition since in her second Rorschach, after parturition, these responses are almost entirely omitted and since she herself makes the association of these responses with her pregnancy. She apologized after three of these responses with the phrase, “Sorry, it must be my condition.” One such response was associated with an erupting volcano (presumably a birth symbol), which so disturbed her that the following response was markedly distorted. It is important to note that these anxiety responses are intellectualized—i.e., given a “scientific” content. The responses were regularly accompanied by forced, tense laughter and remarks of evasion and denial (“I shouldn’t know about these—I never read medical books”).

With respect to the problem of defining Helen’s “fear” of parturition, it might be argued that it was a “real” fear, or normal anxiety, since her anticipated labor might involve suffering. But several things argue against this easy conclusion. One is that her apprehension was greatly out of proportion to that of the other girls in similar situations. Certainly, the reports from the girls returning from the hospitals, where parturition was handled with modern expertness, gave no basis for such intense apprehension or for her emphasis on the possible horrors of birth in her speech quoted above. Another is that this fear was consciously denied.12 We recall the opening sentences of her first speech, “No, I haven’t the slightest fear. In the event of death or making provision for the baby to be taken care of, I just think, ‘how dramatic!’ ” This conscious denial removes it from the category of real fears. I here term it a neurotic fear. We shall discuss below the evidence for believing that this fear was a focus for neurotic anxiety. What the meaning of this fear was, and why her anxiety should be attached to this particular focal point and not another, are questions which can be answered only on the basis of further understanding of other aspects of Helen’s anxiety pattern; they will be discussed below.

Another prominent area of Helen’s anxiety, which we mentioned earlier, was social disapproval and guilt feeling. We are immediately struck by her contradictory statements with regard to guilt feeling: her interviews were filled both with indications of strong guilt feeling and with verbal denials of this very guilt feeling. She felt that people on the street were looking at her as if to say, “Go home, don’t have your baby in public.” She would like to “crawl into a hole till after the baby comes.” A newspaperman friend wished to visit her at Walnut House, but she couldn’t “bear to have him see me in my shame.” But at the same time she made strenuous efforts to cover up this guilt feeling. This was evidenced in the very first interview, when without the question being raised Helen needed to state emphatically that she had no guilt feelings whatever, which suggests the mechanism described in Shakespeare’s words, “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

On the Rorschach some of the guilt feeling was connected with sex: on Card VI, which generally elicits a sexual response, there was more nervous laughter than usual, and she paused for long periods after each response saying, “It looks like something else I can’t get.” The final response in this card was a vista of a woman in an idolatrous shrine, which suggests that Helen was not as emancipated from her religious background as she would believe. But most of her guilt feeling and concomitant anxiety seemed to be connected with what people thought of her: after a response “two old maids pointing and gossiping about the pretty widow,” she gave one of her typical anxiety responses related to her pregnancy. On the childhood anxiety check-list, anxiety related to disapproval by her peers was second, and anxiety related to disapproval by her family was third in quantity. The same mechanisms which she employed to allay anxiety were used for allaying guilt feelings: a blasé, laugh-it-off attitude and an endeavor to intellectualize and depersonalize the issue of guilt (e.g., “My mother and I are unmoral not immoral”).

Helen’s anxiety about social disapproval and guilt merged into her competitive feelings. Often her remarks indicated an association between being disapproved of, being guilty, and losing her competitive standing and power with family and friends. She was adamant that her family not know of her pregnancy, for inasmuch as they had held such high hopes for her, they would be hurt and humiliated. In the next breath, however, she explained that she did not want them to have the “satisfaction of knowing that this had happened to her”; she wanted them to continue thinking she was a big success in New York, and she wished to buy a “splendid outfit” and go home and surprise them (which suggests competitive feelings). This same connection between guilt and loss of power and prestige was evidenced in her attitudes toward her friends. The father of the baby must not know of her pregnancy, for he would take fiendish delight in telling all her friends and humiliating her. On her childhood anxiety check-list she indicated strong anxiety lest people ridicule or make fun of her. Underlying her fear of ridicule in these varied contexts seems to be a formulation like the following: “If others have cause for disapproving of me, they will humiliate [demote] me and I will lose my power and prestige.”

A similar merging of guilt and competitive feelings was evidenced in her numerous remarks of self-depreciation in the interviews. At the outset of the Rorschach she coyly warned that she never did well on tests; then she proceeded to throw herself into the endeavor to produce a superior record. On the whole, the many self-deprecatory remarks of Helen were partly an expression of guilt, and partly a way of disarming others and covering up her competitive striving so that her eventual success would be the more noticeable.

We now consider competitive ambition as such, the final and in many respects the most pronounced area of Helen’s anxiety. In contrast to her denial of apprehension in the areas of parturition and feeling, Helen consciously admitted that competitive ambition was a source of pronounced anxiety for her. The highest score on her childhood anxiety check-list was for anxiety in the area of success and failure in school and work. She was unwilling merely to check “often” for her anxiety about “failing a test in school” or not being a success,’ but added several exclamation points for special emphasis. Competitive ambition in intellectualized form was shown in the Rorschach not only in the “whole compulsion” but also in her straining herself to the limit, which she rationalized by misinterpreting my directions (“You told me to give all I could”). Other evidence of this competitive ambition, in the social worker’s judgment is that Helen sought to impress her with the high intellectual talent of the groups in which she moved in the city.

Helen was aware that her intense anxiety about competitive status inhibited her productivity: “I’m always worried about success,” she remarked, “that’s why I failed the newspaper typing test last night.” Though her competitiveness chiefly assumed an intellectual expression, it carried over into the area of physical attractivenes. The only young woman in the house with whom Helen had difficulty in relationship, a difficulty largely caused by rivalry, was the one (Agnes) who by common consent was prettier than Helen. But it is consistent with Helen’s pattern that she always hid this rivalry under a façade of casual poise (in itself a subtle way of asserting superiority).

It is not difficult to see why Helen chose an intellectual sphere as the chief area for the exercise of her competitive ambition. As a child she was precocious in school; her family had rewarded her with considerable prestige for her academic successes. In periods of emotional insecurity in the family—caused chiefly by violent quarrels between the parents—Helen was able, even as a child, to assume leadership and exercise control over her parents because they recognized her as the “bright one” in the family. Apparently from her early childhood onward her intellectual capacities had been rewarded not only as a method of gaining competitive prestige but also specifically as a means of controlling and ameliorating anxiety-creating situations.

In a person as competitive as Helen, we should expect to find strong needs to remain independent and detached from other people; one has to remain detached in order to triumph over others, and to be absorbed in a close relationship would therefore, be a threat to a security device. There was evidence that Helen had this need for detachment. She regarded marriage as a “ball and chain,” and asked rhetorically, “What is the matter with me that I feel repelled by a man as soon as he proposes marriage?” She felt the present man would interpret the pregnancy, if he should hear of it, as a sign that he had “caught” her and use it as an additional argument for marriage. Another indication of her strong needs to appear independent and not beholden to anyone is seen in the fact that she refused to accept money from Walnut House for her personal necessities, even though she let it be known that she was in need.

OUR OVER-ALL ranking for Helen’s degree of anxiety was moderately high. Her ranking for rejection by her parents was likewise moderately high.

The methods of avoiding anxiety illustrated in the case of Helen deserve further discussion. We have seen that these methods included laughing-it-off behavior, evasion and outright denial, which might be termed an “ostrich” pattern of behavior toward anxiety, and intellectualizing. If these are Helen’s chief methods of avoiding anxiety, two conditions should be demonstrable. First, it should be true that when her anxiety is relatively greater, these avoidance forms of behavior should be more in evidence; and second, when the anxiety subsides, the avoidance behavior mechanisms should abate. In other words, the more the subject experiences anxiety, the more the mechanisms for avoiding are called into play, and vice versa.

Both of these conditions were demonstrable in Helen. We have observed above that at the points in the first Rorschach where Helen showed anxiety, she also exhibited more forced laughter, evasion, and intellectualization. In the second, post-parturition Rorschach, in which there was less anxiety largely because the anxiety responses related to parturition were almost entirely omitted,13 the behavior mechanisms for avoiding anxiety abated accordingly. Intellectualizing and forced laughter were considerably lessened in the second record. The whole compulsion was reduced from 66 per cent to 47 per cent, and the responses to specific details were considerably increased, indicating less evasiveness. This relaxing of the whole compulsion also may be taken to indicate that she is now less pushed to exercise her intellectual ambition. This suggests that her intellectual ambition takes a compulsive form, that it is used for purposes of allaying anxiety (“If I can be intellectually successful, I will not be anxious”), and therefore it abates when the anxiety does.

It is fascinating to note that Helen’s techniques of denying anxiety and at the same time intellectualizing it are logically contradictory. Helen’s pattern, as shown especially in her valiant endeavor to avoid the anxiety focusing on pregnancy and parturition, might be formulated as follows: “If I deny the anxiety, it will not be there,” and at the same time, “If I wave the wand of ‘scientific’ knowledge, the anxiety will vanish.” The former was an outright endeavor to repress the anxiety. As Sullivan has pointed out, individuals have varying levels of awareness, of which conscious awareness is only one, albeit the most complete kind of awareness. In studying patients with anxiety, a phenomenon like Helen’s is often observable; the persons do not consciously admit the anxiety, but behave in all sorts of ways as though they were aware of it, which must mean they are aware of it on levels other than consciousness. On this “deeper” level Helen was aware of the anxiety, and this level was the base of the intellectualizing method of warding off anxiety (such as the “scientific” Rorschach responses and the quasi-scientific discussions with the young women). What both the outright denial and the intellectualizing had in common was evasion of an emotional reality.

Helen’s methods of avoiding anxiety are typical of a trend in our culture. To me, Helen’s pattern is illustrative of what has previously been discussed in this book (Chapter 2) as a dominant pattern in modern Western culture with respect to both sources of anxiety and methods of avoiding anxiety. We have noted in Helen a dichotomy between emotion and intellectual functions, with an endeavor to control her emotions intellectually; and when this control was ineffective (e.g., when she became emotionally involved in her Rorschach responses), she became upset. It is a curious training formula in our culture—to be involved is to be upset. We have earlier discussed the tendency in our society to deny anxiety because it seems to be “irrational.” It is highly significant, in this regard, that the two most important aspects of her emotions—anxiety and guilt feeling—she emphatically denied. The denial and the intellectualizing were both parts of the same pattern with Helen, as we have submitted they are in our culture; if the anxiety and guilt cannot be denied, it must be rationalized; and to the extent that it cannot be rationalized, it must be denied.14 The admission of anxiety about parturition would be both a confession of failure for Helen (the scientific “wand” should be able to dispel the anxiety) and would also be a severe threat to a security device. Likewise the admission of guilt feelings about pregnancy would imply to Helen a failure to have become intellectually “emancipated.” The earlier discussions in this study have been concerned with the repression and denial of anxiety because of its seeming irrationality. I now propose that the repression of guilt feeling falls in the same category and is likewise a tendency in our culture.

Helen is also typical of our culture in that the one area of anxiety which she could consciously and freely admit was that of success and failure. Apparently she had learned, in her school experience among other places, that it is acceptable and respectable to compete and to admit one’s anxiety about the outcome of that competition.

We now raise the interesting question: Why was Helen afraid of parturition? I submit that this neurotic fear is a focus for anxiety which arose from her repressed guilt feeling about the pregnancy. Her phrases such as “suffering the punishments of the damned” in childbirth and the association of “dying” with parturition, bring into the picture both her guilt feeling (being “damned”) and the anticipation of punishment. It is as though a formulation, “I have done wrong, I will be punished,” is in operation. It is well known that repressed guilt feeling gives rise to anxiety. I believe it is plausible to conclude that it is this anxiety in Helen which emerges in the exaggerated fear of parturition.

But why did her anxiety focus on parturition and not elsewhere? I propose that anxiety clustered around parturition because that was the point at which her habitual anxiety defenses were unavailing. Despite her endeavors to think that she was not even pregnant (“It seems to me I am not pregnant until the baby is born”), one’s fat stomach—to go back to her Brownies—cannot be wholly denied short of more serious psychological deterioration than Helen’s state. It was clear, even to her, that her abdomen was enlarged whether she would permit herself to feel it or not. Birth is an experience in which there is bound to be feeling and emotion; and hence parturition was a point at which her intellectualizing and suppressing feeling would not be effective, and her defenses would dramatically collapse in a heap.

NANCY: EXPECTATIONS AT WAR WITH REALITY

The mother of Nancy (age nineteen) had divorced her father, a chauffeur, when Nancy was two, and two years later had married a musician whom Nancy described as “very intelligent, like my mother.” Until the age of twelve Nancy had lived with her mother and stepfather in an upper-middle-class suburb, the cultural level of which, as well as the “good home we had and the good upbringing I received during that period,” were greatly prized by Nancy. When she was sixteen, her mother separated from the stepfather, which unstable behavior Nancy described as “too much for me.” She then left her mother and school, having completed the ninth grade, and went to work as a clerk, then as a cashier, and later as a milliner. Nancy’s friends, her work, and that part of her background with which she identifies place her in the middle class.

Because of her loneliness in living in New York rather than “love” or sexual interest, she explained, she had accepted the relationship with the young man who was the baby’s father. Through him she had met another young man with whom she had fallen in love and to whom she was now engaged. The college education and good family standing of her fiancé, his father being a member of a university faculty, were very important to Nancy. The fiancé knew of her pregnancy and apparently accepted it with understanding, expressing his willingness that they keep the baby as their own after their marriage. Nancy, however, had decided to give the baby up for adoption.

Nancy impressed almost everyone at Walnut House as a well-adjusted, very responsible, conscientious, and considerate person, with a marked capacity for avoiding conflict in her personal relations. She was described by a social worker as “one of the nicest girls we have ever had at Walnut House.” Physically and socially attractive, she had cultivated an educated bearing, and in the first interviews she seemed poised and uninhibited, with no apparent indications of the pervasive anxiety we were later to discover.

It became clear in Nancy’s behavior and in my interviews with her that her security, and consequently her ability to keep anxiety at bay, depended almost entirely on whether she could convince herself that other people accepted her. She was intensely worried about whether her fiancé’s parents would continue to like her, and tried constantly to reassure herself by the fact that they seemed to like her now. Her continual reference to them, as to most people she admired, was, “They are such nice people, and they like me.” She searched the letters from her fiancé for assurances that he still loved her. It was only by the security she found in him, she emphasized, that she could go through her present difficulties: “If anything went wrong with his love for me, I’d break down completely.” The criterion of whether the fiancé, or anyone else for that matter, loved her was whether he could be depended upon, as her mother and her first boy friend could not be, but as she believed her fiancé could be.

Though Nancy had amicable relations with everyone, she stated that she was very cautious in choosing real girl friends, for “most girls can’t be depended upon to help you.” She never brought up any references to her own feelings which would indicate affective, outgoing responses to these other people who were so important to her. Her own emotional response, even to her fiancé, seemed not to enter the picture, her only reference being the general statement that she loved him. The important point for her was not how she felt toward the other but whether the other person “loved” her—by which she meant a condition in which the other would not reject her. Thus “love” for Nancy was essentially a security device by which she could keep anxiety at bay.

Her behavior was a revelation of expertly devised means of placating others and keeping them in a benevolent attitude toward her. She apologized effusively when she was late for an interview and showed excessive gratitude when anyone helped her. In one interview with the social worker, Nancy, in trying to avoid discussing her childhood, made a remark that was only in the most minor way aggressive: but she made a special visit to the social worker’s office the next day in considerate anxiety to ask whether the social worker had been offended. She never permitted herself outbursts toward other people, even toward her stepfather, who apparently had often given her just cause. “You have to live with people” was Nancy’s formula, “so you might as well get along with them.”

Her repeated statements that loneliness was her motivation for making love and having sexual relations with the first boy friend now make sense in the respect that sexual activity was a way of placating him and thereby holding him. She was upset by the need to deceive anyone. She stated several times that she hoped she could some day tell her prospective mother-in-law about the pregnancy—though this was certainly not an objective problem at the moment—because she hated to have that deceit between them. As an adolescent she had often been given money by her stepfather for her personal needs; she could never keep this fact from her mother despite the fact that she knew her mother would then take the money from her to spend on liquor. All of the above indications give us a picture of Nancy as a person to whom any rejection is a profound threat, and who must, therefore, placate other people at all costs. Her interpersonal security was so tenuous that the slightest ill will, aggression, discord, or deceit, however justified, would destroy it, and unmanageable anxiety would ensue.

Her conscientiousness in her work, as we shall see, on her Rorschach, was a method of buying acceptance. Though Nancy had never had any problems in getting and retaining jobs in the workaday world, she had always been anxious about her work, feeling she would be discharged if she did not keep constantly alert. “There’s always some one to take your place if you don’t keep on your toes.” This repeated phase “keeping on your toes” is a very apt expression for this type of anxiety, in which the individual feels that disaster can be avoided only by remaining perpetually in a state of tense balance.

We now inquire into the sources of this anxiety pattern in Nancy’s childhood. The following memories piece together a picture of a child who was clung to by the mother but at the same time severely rejected. Nancy reported (on the basis of information she had received from an aunt) that it had been the mother’s practice frequently to leave her alone in the house before the divorce, when Nancy was two, as well as after the separation from Nancy’s father. One of Nancy’s earliest memories, dating from about the age of three, was of her father kidnapping her from her mother’s house when she had been left alone. In the ensuing taxi ride to the father’s house, Nancy had cried violently for her mother. Later, the mother came with a policeman to get her back. Nancy related a variety of other early memories all of which had these elements: (a) the mother had left Nancy alone; (b) not having proper supervision, Nancy would get hurt (e.g., fall down the cellar steps); and (c) the mother would come home but be “unconcerned.” Nancy’s explanation was, “My mother cared more about going out to bars than having children.”

Apparently this rejection of the child continued, though on a somewhat diminished scale, after the mother remarried. The subsequent period, when “we had a good home in the suburbs,” is emphasized by Nancy as a kind of Garden of Eden period of happy childhood. In her interpretation of her background, she dates her real misfortunes from the time of their losing this house when she was twelve.

After that my mother became unsteady, and she and my stepfather began to go out to bars all the time. They’d take me sometimes, but I didn’t like that. Sometimes they wouldn’t come home all night. They’d leave a girl with me, of course, but I’d wake up in the morning and not find them there. That’s not right. . . . I’d worry for fear something had happened to them. Then, when I got to be sixteen, my mother really did go bad.

Nancy was not condemning toward her mother in a moral sense, but only in the sense that the mother could not then be depended upon. Nancy would not tell what the “going bad” consisted of. At that point in the interview she reverted to reminiscence, “But she was such a good mother in the suburbs.”

Nancy intensely disliked talking about her childhood, a discomfort which was shown in inordinate smoking and in her stating that such conversation made her “nervous,” which embarrassed her. She remarked that she could remember the events but not the feelings and added, “That’s strange—the way I seemed to want my mother as a child, you’d think I would remember the feelings about her.” She exhibited a need not only to block off the affect connected with these childhood rejections themselves but also to block off the immediate affect in telling about the events. The fact that she had shown emotional involvement, “nervousness,” in telling of these childhood rejections very much upset her. During the subsequent two interviews she remained carefully poised and exhibited an unspoken determination not to display any emotional involvement again.

It will already be evident to the reader that there was a patent contradiction in Nancy’s description of her childhood. This contradiction, consisting of conflicting attitudes toward her mother, was of fundamental importance. On one hand there was the actual fact that Nancy felt, with considerable basis in reality, that she was rejected as a child, and that this rejection was exceedingly painful to her. But on the other hand there was her tendency to idealize her mother and parts of her background. In her recounting these memories, there emerged time and again the refrain about the “good home in the suburbs, with a little brown road leading up to it,” and the accompanying assertion, “My mother was such a good mother then.” I take the romanticized references to the “good home in the suburbs” as one symbol of her idealization of her relationship with her mother. When Nancy would approach some aspect of her childhood which was repugnant to her, she would interpolate as a vague but intense hope, “But my mother could have been such a good mother.” This phrase sounded like the talisman of a primitive, an incantation with magical properties, an amulet to ward off evil.

So far as could be determined, her mother had left Nancy alone a good deal even during the period in the suburbs, though perhaps not as much as during the later and earlier periods. In any case, the supposition that her mother was “good” (in the sense of “stable”) part of the time and “bad” the rest of the time does not make objective sense: that statement itself suggests profound inconsistency in the behavior of her mother. The conclusion seems justified that this motif of the “good” mother and the “happy” childhood period was brought in by Nancy because she could not bear to face the reality of her rejection by her mother and her feelings toward her mother. The fact that the recurrent refrain that the mother could have been good came up in the interviews whenever Nancy found the discussion of her early rejection too painful to continue supports the conclusion her idealization of her mother was used to cover up the reality of their actual relationship.

Nancy approached the Rorschach with the same overconscientiousness, an attitude seeming to me to be an effort to buy acceptance. Her record showed an intelligent, original person with a marked anxiety neurosis of the type in which the “anxious attitude” toward life is accepted and so well systematized that it gives her the outward appearance of “success” in her personal relations.15 The outstanding feature of the Rorschach was the very high proportion of responses using the tiny details (36). Indeed, her regular procedure was to go around the circumference of the blot, responding to each small detail as she went, but being careful to cling to the edge and avoiding any threat of losing her bearings by going into the larger areas of the blot itself. Figuratively, this is the picture of an individual who believes herself to be perpetually walking on the edge of a precipice and, therefore, must step very cautiously from stone to stone lest she fall. Nancy’s behavior in the Rorschach corresponds to the behavior of Goldstein’s patients who, in a much more pathological degree than Nancy, would write their names only in the very corner of the paper, any venture away from clear boundaries being too severe a threat. The content of these responses was chiefly faces, which suggests again that Nancy’s anxiety was connected with a great concern with other people looking at her and what they thought of her.

The record indicated an isolated personality, with an almost complete absence of outgoing, affective response to other people. Though much “inner” activity was present, the instinctual aspects of inner promptings were subordinated. The Rorschach thus corroborated her statement that the motives for her sexual relations leading to the pregnancy were something other than “love” or sexual interest. In the few responses in the Rorschach in which she did become emotionally involved, the pattern of clinging to tiny details “lest she fall” was broken and considerable anxiety ensued. Thus one of the functions of the emotional constriction was to protect her from the anxiety-creating situation of emotional involvement with other persons. With the appearance of bright color in Card II, she is shocked into making one of her few whole responses, but it is a severely disturbed response, and she drops the card immediately for the next. A similar reaction, though not quite so pronounced, occurs with the appearance of the totally colored cards (VIII).

Much ambition was shown in the record, taking the form of compulsions to produce in quantity, to get everything in (as though she must cover all of experience by including every tiny detail), to produce perfectly, and to show originality. The perfectionism was partly a way of gaining security by sticking to details in which she could be meticulously accurate, but it was also an endeavor to gain acceptance and reassurance from the tester. Her ambition was not to gain power over others (like Helen’s) but rather served as a way of getting acceptance—e.g., “If I do well, if I am ‘interesting,’ I will not be rejected.” Her rating for anxiety on the Rorschach was: depth 3, width 5, handling, 1, which placed her highest among all the young women in this study.

Nancy filled out the anxiety check-lists with the same meticulous care for accuracy, pondering each item (“I don’t like to check them unless I’m sure”), and returning to reconsider items and revise her checking. In quantity, she ranked in the high category on the childhood list, moderately high on the present list, and low on the future list. All three lists showed the chief areas of anxiety to be success and failure in work and what her peers thought of her.

A curious phenomenon was evidenced in her behavior in checking the lists, which may partially explain why the “future” anxiety list shows less quantity of anxiety than the other two. Every item of anxiety suggested on the lists threw Nancy into a dilemma, which she verbalized by saying she had thought a lot about the item in point. It was very difficult for her to separate herself enough from her anxiety to know whether she was anxious about a given item or not. Her criterion seemed to be: if she had been able to manage the suggested item of anxiety, she checked it as not a source of anxiety, despite the fact that her way of managing it generally involved obvious anxiety. The “future” anxieties had not yet proved unmanageable, and hence they would be less frequently checked.

AS AN over-all rating, we found in Nancy a high degree of anxiety. She illustrates one type of anxiety neurosis, characterized by the adoption of the “anxious attitude” toward life, so that practically everything she thought or did was motivated by anxiety. The goal of her behavior was not to avoid anxiety; rather, it was to keep anxiety at bay. She was characterized by continual foreboding and a constant endeavor to keep herself precariously balanced in her relations with people lest catastrophe (in Nancy’s sense, rejection) should occur. We can say that this is not a case of the person having anxiety, but of “anxiety having the person.

It may seem confusing to make this distinction between avoiding anxiety and keeping anxiety at bay. But a real distinction is referred to—namely, the fact that in this type of anxiety neurosis the anxious attitude is so intimately a part of the individual’s method of evaluating stimuli, of orienting herself or himself to every experience, that he or she cannot separate him- or herself enough from anxiety to comprehend the goal of avoidance of, or freedom from, anxiety. What Nancy sought was to be able to step cautiously from rock to rock without falling; the idea or possibility of not being on a precipice at all did not occur to her.

Her well-systematized methods of keeping anxiety at bay were, on the objective level, placating others, avoiding all discord, and doing conscientious work. The goals of these methods were to be accepted and to be “loved,” in which state she was temporarily secure. These methods were eminently successful in the sense that she did get herself universally liked; but the security she achieved was very tentative, and she persistently expected that tomorrow she might be rejected.

On the subjective level, Nancy’s methods of keeping anxiety at bay were to avoid emotional entanglements, to suppress the affect connected with her childhood rejection and anxiety, and to idealize anxiety-creating situations.16 The method of avoiding emotional entanglements was not successful for Nancy, however, since she depended almost entirely for her security on what other people thought of her. This is a contradiction: you cannot avoid emotional entanglements on one hand and depend entirely on what other people think of you on the other.17

When all is said, it is notable that Nancy had no effective subjective protections against anxiety-creating situations. Her only protection against anxiety was to be anxious—i.e., to live continually “on her toes,” and in a state of constant preparedness.

We find a high degree of rejection by her mother simultaneously present in Nancy with a high degree of anxiety. This rejection by her mother was not accepted as an objective reality. Rather, it was continually held in juxtaposition with idealized expectation about her mother, which we could see in the amulets Nancy repeated whenever she found herself in an anxiety-creating situation. Hence the rejection led to subjective conflict. The feelings of rejection and the idealization of the mother, opposites though they seem to be, reinforced each other. Feeling rejected, she yearned more strongly for an idealized acceptance by the mother; and having the idealized picture of what her mother “could” have been, her rejection was experienced as all the more painful. The feelings connected with her rejection then tended to be repressed and, therefore, increased.

Nancy’s case is an illustration of the fact that what is significant about rejection, as a source of neurotic anxiety, is how it is interpreted by the child. In impact upon the child, there is a radical difference between rejection as an objective experience (which does not necessarily result in subjective conflict for the child), and rejection as a subjective experience. The important question psychologically is whether the child felt himself or herself rejected. That Nancy did feel herself greatly rejected is clear, though in actual fact she was objectively less rejected than some of the other girls discussed below (Louise, Bessie) who were not nearly so concerned subjectively about their rejection. My contention is that Nancy’s idealization of her mother is the essential element in understanding why she gave such a pronounced subjective weight to her rejection.

The conflict underlying Nancy’s neurotic anxiety may be described as arising from a hiatus between expectations and reality. The conflict was perpetuated in the form of an excessive need on one hand to depend on others (specifically, on their accepting, liking her) as her security device; but an underlying conviction on the other hand that other people were not dependable and would reject her. We have observed this conflict in its original form in her attitudes toward her mother, and in its present form in her attitudes toward her fiancé as well as toward other contemporaries.

A more specific formulation of Nancy’s conflict would require psychoanalytic knowledge of her unconscious pattern—data which the above methods do not yield. It is certainly a justified hypothesis, however, that a great deal of hostility would be present in a pattern in which the individual is so dependent on other people but believes these others to be undependable; and it is entirely understandable that such hostility, in a person as anxious as Nancy, would be radically repressed.

AGNES: ANXIETY RELATED TO HOSTILITY AND AGGRESSION

Agnes, now eighteen, had been a night club dancer since leaving her father at the age of fourteen. On the day she was to have her first interview with me, she had apparently spent hours making herself up, and I was somewhat taken aback. She had long black curls and very blue eyes which gave her an exotic look. But her facial expression belied her appearance: she seemed, in this first interview with me, as well as the one with the social worker, to be in pronounced, though well-controlled, terror. Her eyes were dilated, her gestures sharp and nervous, and though she occasionally laughed metallically, she never smiled.

It appeared in these first interviews that Agnes was expecting, consciously or unconsciously, some attack. This same expectation or aggression against her appeared in forms of phobic anxiety in her behavior at Walnut House; whenever she was given an aspirin by the nurse, she would look at it carefully with the expectation that she was being poisoned. Later, in telling me about this and other phobic feelings, Agnes realized their irrationality. She stated that she often had “claustrophobia” in her room at Walnut House and on the subways, which she associated with a traumatic experience as a child when her stepmother, who after “she got tired slapping me, locked me in a closet.”

Agnes’ real mother had died when she was one year old. She had lived with her father and stepmother, both Catholic, until the latter died when she was thirteen. After keeping house for her father for a year, she left him because of his excessive drinking and his attitude, as she expressed it, of “complete lack of concern for me.” There was some doubt in her mind as to whether her father and mother had been her real parents; this doubt was also shared by the social workers at Walnut House on the basis of the scanty legal birth data available. She had no siblings. Her father and stepmother had adopted a boy when Agnes was eight, but she had objected so strongly that they had returned the boy to the orphanage. Her Wassermann test at entrance to Walnut House was +4, considered by the physician as congenital syphilis.

It is difficult to place Agnes accurately with respect to socioeconomic class; her father had frequently changed his occupation, at this time being a cook in a restaurant. Her vocational aims at the time of her stay at Walnut House were to leave show business, attend art school, and then become a commercial artist. On the basis of her aims, as well as the socioeconomic status of her friends, we think of her as in the middle class.

She was pregnant by a married man considerably older than herself, whom she had met as a fellow performer in show business. Because she “loved” him, she stated, she had entered willingly into the relationship, which lasted about half a year.

Her relations to the other young women at Walnut House were marked by much open hostility and some contempt on her part, with no effort whatever to be friendly. As a consequence, the other girls were hostile toward her and teased her frequently, which Agnes affected to meet with disdain. Her general mood at the house was characterized by brooding on one hand and temper tantrums on the other.

There were many evidences that Agnes was engaged in continual struggles for power—getting the upper hand—over other people. She stated that she greatly admired strength, especially in men. She felt contempt for her father because of what she called his weakness in drinking, and contempt for the men in night clubs who “pulled the line of my-wife-doesn’t-understand-me.” Her attitude toward Bob, the man by whom she was pregnant, was generally aggressive: she would “get a lawyer and ruin him” if he did not support her through her pregnancy. When she had direct contact with him, however, this aggression was usually masked behind a strategy of feminine weakness; with entirely conscious premeditation, she would weep over the telephone to convince him of her “helplessness” and play what she called her “martyr act” (“look how much I am suffering”). But when he did periodically send her a check, she would be temporarily filled with affectionate feelings toward him and say she had misjudged him. She employed her exotic, feminine attractiveness likewise for aggressive purposes: when she was to meet Bob for lunch (or, for that matter, on the days she was to have interviews with me) she would spend hours getting herself made up as attractively as possible. This procedure seemed strangely like preparation for war. After parturition, she enjoyed considerable feelings of triumph from creating a “sensation” in stores by her stunning appearance. These particular evidences of her aggressive struggle to gain power over other people fit the sado-masochistic pattern which will also be seen in her Rorschach.

At first, Agnes refused to accept her pregnancy as a realistic fact. Apparently, it made her feel weak and victimized, and prevented her from using her attractiveness as a weapon of aggression. But she soon was able to work the expected baby into her sado-masochistic pattern: she began to talk continually of her responsibility as a mother. (In this connection the other young women referred to her as the “madonna.”) She treated the baby after its arrival as a “toy,” an extension of herself, and emphasized that now at long last she had someone to belong to. These attitudes toward the baby were accompanied by a complete absence of realistic planning for the baby’s future. The baby also now served her as an aggressive weapon against Bob; she stated that the baby was something to “fight for.”

It was clear that Agnes felt a high degree of rejection by her parents. Beyond the doubt as to whether they were her real parents (which is significant symbolically as well as possibly true in fact), considerable factual data indicated that she had had a cold and reciprocally hostile relationship with her stepmother. Her father’s attitude toward her had always been one of indifference to her and to her abilities. Even at the present time, Agnes was engaged in trying to break down his indifference. After parturition she made a trip to a nearby city to see him, ostensibly to get factual data about her birth records but actually to get him at long last to show some concern for her. This concern was to be expressed in symbolic terms by her hope that he would give her a little money. I say the money was a “symbol” because Agnes was not particularly in need at the time, and, furthermore, the sum she suggested (five dollars) would have made very little realistic difference. She expressed the conviction before the trip that he would not “materialize”—i.e., give her material proof of his concern. After the trip she reported that he had enjoyed showing his colleagues what an attractive daughter he had, but beyond that had, as always, exhibited complete indifference to her. In her interviews at Walnut House, Agnes continually talked of her loneliness—“I never belonged to anyone.” Making allowance for her need to dramatize this loneliness, there is still adequate ground for concluding that she had always been a very isolated person. We place her in the high category of rejection by parents.

The chief feature of her Rorschach was the large amount of aggression and hostility.18 Almost every response having to do with human beings consisted of people fighting or of semihuman monsters. The monsters were seen in sexual contexts; she assumedly associated sex with brutal aggression against her. Though her inner promptings of an imaginative sort were given much expression, her instinctual promptings were suppressed, the sexual promptings being suppressed in order for her to avoid becoming the victim of aggression. The Rorschach indicated that she felt driven by her extensive hostile and aggressive tendencies (both potential and actual) and that if these were not at least partially suppressed, they would be uncontrollable for her. There was a good deal of emotional excitability, particularly of a narcissistic form.

On the whole, her Rorschach showed a sado-masochistic pattern. She endeavored to avoid her aggression and hostility by retreats into fancy, abstraction, and moralism—e.g., the aggression was seen as a struggle between “good and evil.” Her good intellectual capacities were used for purposes of aggressive ambition—gaining control over others. The hostility and aggression in this record involved much anxiety, cued off largely by her expecting others’ aggression and hostility against her, which, in turn, was to a considerable extent a projection of her aggressive and hostile feelings toward them. Her chief way of trying to manage the anxiety was by retaliatory aggression and hostility.

Her rating on anxiety in the Rorschach was: depth 2 1/2, width 4 1/2, handling 4 1/2, which placed her in the high category of anxiety in comparison to the other girls. On the childhood anxiety check-list Agnes ranked moderately low, and on the future check-list moderately high. The predominant areas of anxiety were ambition and phobic apprehension.

The interrelation of anxiety with her hostility and aggression seems to be the chief thing the study of Agnes has to teach us. First, her anxiety was a reaction to situations which she interpreted in terms of the threat of outright attack upon her by others. This seemed to be a prominent source of her terror in the first interviews at Walnut House. It is entirely understandable that the anxiety reaction to such threats would be accompanied by counter-hostility and aggression on Agnes’ part—which at Walnut House she did not express against the social workers or me but displaced on the other young women there. Second, her anxiety was a reaction to the threat of being rejected, made lonely. Her hostility and aggression connected with this anxiety reaction is the familiar pattern of being angry at those who cause one the pain of isolation and anxiety.

But a third and less common aspect of the interrelationship of anxiety with hostility and aggression is demonstrated in Agnes’ case—namely, she uses hostility and aggression as a method of avoiding the anxiety-creating situation. This is not the usual behavior: we have seen that other girls try to avoid anxiety by withdrawing or by placating or by being compliant to others. In most cases the periods when they are anxious are precisely the times when they are least aggressive in order not to alienate the persons on whom they are dependent. Agnes, however, operates on the formula that by attacking others she can force them not to reject her, not to make her anxious.

This can be seen more clearly by inquiring further into her behavior toward the father of her baby. Her general attitude toward him was: “He rejects me; therefore, he, like all men, is a welcher.” Whenever he did reject her (e.g., fail to send her a check), she reacted with anxiety and great anger, the chief content of which was: “He must not be allowed to welch on me.” But when, in response to her determined long-distance telephone calls, he did send her money, she felt relieved of her anxiety and satisfied despite the fact that the sum of money was so paltry as to make very little objective difference. The issue was not the money itself (Agnes could have gotten that from Walnut House) but that he must be made to show concern for her. The fact that the symbol of concern, in Agnes’ struggles with Bob and her father, is money is interesting in itself. In her mind “love” consists of giving up something, and her power to make others “concerned” for her consists of taking away something from them.

The case of Agnes may throw light on anxiety phenomena in sado-masochistic cases in general—namely, relief from anxiety comes not only from keeping the other persons tied to one’s self in a symbiotic relationship, but also in gaining control, triumphing over, or bending the other person to one’s own will. If one cannot gain relief from anxiety except by bending the other to fit one’s own goals, one’s method of allaying anxiety is bound to be essentially aggressive.

IN AGNES’ case we have seen a high degree of anxiety together with a high degree of rejection by parents. The relation of her present anxiety pattern to her early relations with her parents was shown in a number of ways, one of them being her association of her phobial anxiety with her early relation of reciprocal hostility and aggression with her stepmother. Another was the fact that the anxiety-creating pattern of relationship with the father of her baby followed very closely her relationship with her own father. It is to be emphasized that Agnes, like Nancy and Helen, did not accept rejection by her father as a realistic fact. Through thick and thin she clung to a contradictory position with her father—the contradiction between her subjective expectations and what she knew to be the realistic situation in her relation with her father. This is the hiatus between expectation and reality, discussed later. It was shown most clearly in her journey to see him to force him to show concern for her, despite the fact that she knew realistically that he would not change.

Agnes also demonstrates the interrelation of anxiety with feelings of aggression and hostility. Agnes was made anxious by her expectations of others’ hostility and aggression against her (e.g., the phobial crystallizations), which, in turn, were related through the mechanism of projection with her own hostility and aggression against others. This pattern can assume an endless number of subtle forms. The hostility and aggression were expressions in Agnes of a sado-masochistic character structure, which involved her interpreting anxiety-creating situations as her being victimized by others. As a corollary, she employed her own hostility and aggression as a means of escape, a way of avoiding being victimized. In her life as well as in the world the escape never works.

Thus Agnes’ chief defenses against the anxiety-creating situation were hostility and aggression—a striving to triumph over the other person, to become the victor rather than the victimized. In this respect she interpreted others’ rejection of her as their victory over her and her capacity to keep them in a symbiotic relationship as her triumph over them, her bending them to her will. It is clear that such a pattern would generate great quantities of anxiety, for she would always expect that other people were doing to her what she was trying to do to them. This great quantity of anxiety was illustrated in her terror in the first interviews, and in her phobia at Walnut House.

A further question arises: Can any specific causal elements be discovered in Agnes’ case which determine her use of aggression and hostility as methods of avoiding the anxiety-creating situation? Why would a person unconsciously select these weapons? I suggest that such methods in Agnes’ case point toward the presence of a level of overprotection in her early background. Her considerable degree of narcissism would fit such a hypothesis. The hypothesis is likewise supported by her father’s behavior in taking pride in her attractive appearance but rejecting her in all other respects. It is, of course, not at all uncommon that parents overprotect children and at the same time reject them, or direct excessive affect toward them on some levels and reject them on other levels. The overprotection and rejection are sometimes reactions to each other—e.g., if the parent really rejects the child, he may “spoil” it on a different level in order to make up for his rejection.

There are evidences that she did wield power in her family situation as a child: her objections forced the parents to relinquish the adopted boy. If such a hypothesis is true, it would explain why the aggressive method of forcing others not to reject her and bending them to her will was to some extent successful and, therefore, reinforced, in her relations with her parents. This hypothesis would also explain why Agnes interpreted rejection as an attack upon her, as though if others did not fulfill her expectations of directing affect toward her, they were “welching on agreements.” She had learned to expect this attention as her “right,” and others were, therefore, exploiting her when they did not give it to her.

The official judgment at Walnut House was that Agnes’ personality pattern was so firmly crystallized that very little therapy could at that time be accomplished. Her second Rorschach, taken three weeks after parturition and, therefore, when she was relieved of the particular feelings of helplessness which attended her inability to use her feminine attractiveness as a source of power, shows some relaxing of the feeling that she is the victim of aggression. Hence it also shows some relaxing of the stringency of her pattern. But it was still essentially a sado-masochistic character structure characterized by strong feelings of aggression and hostility.

The last we heard of Agnes (from a letter written a month after her leaving Walnut House), she was being supported by a man much older than herself and bringing up her baby on Bach and Beethoven.

LOUISE: REJECTION BY MOTHER WITHOUT ANXIETY

Louise, the twenty-four-year-old daughter of proletarian parents, was a domestic servant, an occupation she had followed since her mother’s death when she was twelve. Her father, who had been a laborer in a steel foundry, had died when Louise was thirteen. The only sibling, a sister, had died before Louise was old enough to know her. Louise was pregnant by a man eleven years her senior, the only man with whom she had ever felt herself to be in love or with whom she had ever had sexual relations. When she had been informed by her doctor that she was three months pregnant, she had had momentary thoughts of suicide but had later made the simple adjustment of calling a telephone operator and asking where a girl should go “in a fix like mine.”

Louise’s childhood history indicated an extreme rejection, expressed in cruel punishment, at the hands of her mother. In her words:

My mother beat me all the time. Even my father would ask her why she did it, and then she would beat me all the more. . . . She beat me with everything she had. She broke my elbow, she broke my back and nose. The neighbors next door used to want to call the police, but they didn’t want to interfere. My mother would say, “Come here, or I’ll kill you.” Sometimes I was so banged up I would feel all right if somebody ran a knife through me. . . . My aunt and uncle wanted to take me, but she wouldn’t let them. I don’t understand why, seeing she hated me, that she didn’t get rid of me.

Louise related these incidents of childhood punishment without much affect or change in expression. I had the impression that she had probably told the story frequently (possibly to the women for whom she worked as a domestic) and that there may be some exaggeration for effect upon the listener (e.g., the details surrounding the “breaking” of the elbow and back did not sound convincing). But granted this possibility of some exaggeration, there still is every indication that she was the victim of physical cruelty and severe rejection as a child. While there was obviously great objective trauma in these childhood experiences, the significant fact is that Louise was able to avoid subjective trauma, both as a child and now as an adult. Her relation to her father, toward whom she felt friendly, was apparently a mitigating influence but on a superficial rather than profound level (e.g., she sees no men in the Rorschach).

It does not seem a tenable hypothesis that Louise was simply repressing all affect connected with this mother relationship; at other points in the interviews, she did express considerable emotion—she cried when she told of her hatred for her mother. But the hatred was stated as a simple fact, without indication of accompanying psychological conflict and without evidence of pervasive underlying resentment of the mother.

As a child Louise’s chief concerns—beyond the understandable desire to escape the pain of the beatings—were a fear that other people might hate her because her mother did, and a perplexity as to why her mother was so hostile toward her. In her childhood thoughts she had hypothesized that perhaps she was not really her mother’s own daughter. In her behavior toward her mother Louise made no pretense or endeavor to cover up the reality of their relationship. When company was present, the mother would demand that Louise show her affection, but Louise always refused to do this even though she knew she would be punished for it on the morrow. Louise’s own subjective attitude toward her childhood rejection and punishment is shown in her lumping of these experiences under the heading of “hard luck.” In short, Louise seems to have accepted rejection at the hands of her mother realistically, as an objective and somewhat impersonal fact.

Her Rorschach showed a relatively undifferentiated personality, with average intelligence and some originality.19 There were no movement responses in the record, indicating both a meagerness of intratensive activity and a repression of instinctual promptings. She showed an easy, ready adaptation to stimuli from the outside, but this was a somewhat pseudo form of responsiveness and suggested a superficial adjustment to relations with other people. It is significant that she saw no human beings in the cards (which is frequently the case with persons who have had bad relations with parents). The closest Louise got to a human being was the “back of a woman’s head,” which she implied was saying that “women turn away from me.” In this response she placed the woman’s head not in the blot itself but in the space, which suggested her own oppositional tendencies toward women. It is a sound inference that both of these ways of relating to women referred prototypically to her relations with her mother.

Practically no overt anxiety was shown in the Rorschach. Some underlying anxiety may be inferred from the lack of movement responses: whereas this absence of inner promptings was partly a mark of an undifferentiated personality in Louise’s case, it was also partly due to a blocking off of instinctual urges, particularly with respect to sexual contact with men, to make herself less vulnerable. We rated her for anxiety on the Rorschach: depth 3, width 2, handling 1. This placed her in the moderately low category of anxiety in relation to the other young women. Louise was able to avoid personal relationships which might arouse anxiety, and the avoidance system did not seem to present her with any deep conflicts.

While filling out the childhood anxiety check-list, Louise significantly remarked, “You don’t worry as a child. You just take things as they come, you don’t suffer.” Though the number of items she checked placed her in the high category of anxiety on this childhood list, her ranking for anxiety on the present check-list was the lowest among all the young women.20 She stated while filling out the latter list, “I practically never worry about anything.” The chief kinds of anxiety in the check-lists were disapproval by her peers and phobial apprehensions. With respect to anxiety related to competitive ambition, she ranked lowest among all the girls.

Louise’s behavior and attitude toward the psychologist and social workers and me were always deferential, with apologies for taking their time and some indications that she felt it unusual that they should be interested in her. In the interviews she talked freely but gave the impression (particularly in the fact that her facial expression was generally characterized by narrowed eyelids) that she was prepared to be rebuked. She showed considerable desire to please her “superiors” and performed her duties at the house with conspicuous conscientiousness. The opposite side to this compliant behavior seemed to be expressed in some defiance of the other young women: she was critical of them to the housemother and consequently was disliked by them. This did not seem to bother her: she stated that when she didn’t get along with other people, “I just keep out of their way.” Her only amusement was taking long daily walks by herself, which served the purposes, in addition to her enjoyment, of keeping her out of the way of the other girls and helping her to go to sleep at night rather than “lie awake with the blues,” as she put it.

There was never any question in Louise’s mind about her wanting to keep her baby, and she made realistic plans about placing it in a foster home until she had earned enough to establish her own home or had married. How much her own baby would have meant to her was shown in her great pleasure in taking care of the other girls’ babies before her own parturition.

When her own baby was stillborn, Louise was inconsolable. She wept profusely the first days in the hospital, and could talk of nothing else during her three weeks of convalescence at Walnut House. She then went to a convalescent home in the country, where she made a good recovery from her depression and grief. The final data concerning Louise were the long, endearment-filled letters which she continued to write to the nurse at Walnut House, with whom she had established a close and affectionate relationship.

OUR OVER-ALL rating for Louise was low in anxiety and high in rejection by her mother. This immediately presents a problem of a person who experienced severe rejection but did not exhibit consequent neurotic anxiety. It goes directly against my hypothesis that maternal rejection is the origin of neurotic anxiety.

Is this lack of anxiety to be explained by her lack of differentiation as a personality or by repression of affect? This question must be answered in its two phases. To some extent it may be said that Louise was a relatively simple, undifferentiated personality in the “normal” sense (i.e., the lack of differentiation was not due to present subjective conflicts). The repression of inner promptings in the Rorschach referred to her sexual promptings toward men and did not in itself explain the lack of neurotic anxiety from her rejection by her mother. To what extent her meagerness in responsiveness to relations with other people was a result of the lack of affection in her relation with her mother it is not possible to state beyond the obvious point that there would be an important relation between these two factors. But her lack of neurotic anxiety could not be explained as a lack or suppression of all affect. This is shown in (a) the fact that she did exhibit affect in talking of her hatred for her mother, (b) she had very great feelings for her hoped-for baby, and (c) she was able to establish an affectionate relationship with the nurse at Walnut House.

Louise accepted her mother’s rejection as a realistic fact rather than as a source of subjective conflict. To me this seems the essential point in her freedom from neurotic anxiety. Her mother’s hatred and punishment of her were taken as objective and relatively impersonal—as “hard luck.” Her own statement that children accept things as they come without suffering (in the sense of experiencing neurotic anxiety) seems to be a fairly accurate description of her understanding of herself. That the rejection and punishment caused objective trauma and great pain is clear, but subjective trauma and conflict with respect to her relations with her mother was not present. Her mother’s hatred is met with direct hatred and does not become a reason for persistent resentment in Louise.

It is significant that Louise entertained no pretense about her mother: in radical distinction from the case of Nancy, for example, Louise did not live in expectation that her mother could or would change into a “good” mother. Likewise, Louise’s behavior toward her mother was not influenced by pretension, as witness her refusal to show hypocritical affection for her mother when company was present despite the surety of being beaten for this self-assertion. In contrast to a number of other women in this study (Nancy, Helen, Agnes, etc.), Louise did not have a cleavage between her expectations and the reality situation with respect to the parent. Her case demonstrates that neurotic anxiety is not produced by rejection if the individual is free from subjective contradictions in his attitudes toward her parents.

Some elements in this case, if they should appear in a more extreme form than we have observed in Louise, would suggest psychopathic developments. The psychopathic personality, produced by such complete rejection in the family that the child has no basis for future relatedness, does not exhibit neurotic anxiety (see footnote re Lauretta Bender’s viewpoint, page 409). But I believe it is clear that Louise cannot be classed as psychopathic.

It has been noted that Louise’s adaptation to traumatic situations of all sorts was characterized not by neurotic conflict but by seeing the problem as objective and “keeping out of the way.” This can be seen in her desire to get away from her mother as well as in her adaptation to difficulties with the girls at the house. It is true that this “keeping out of the way” might take pathological forms with Louise if she were confronted with an insupportable trauma; on learning of her pregnancy, though she later made a simple objective adjustment, there were the first thoughts of suicide. There were likewise thoughts of suicide in her childhood as the only way out, if the pain of her mother’s beatings were to become insupportable. It is my impression, which I cannot substantiate in detail, that an insupportable trauma in Louise’s experience would result in psychotic developments rather than deep neurotic conflicts. I believe this point does not, however, qualify our above statements as to her freedom from neurotic anxiety.

BESSIE: REJECTION BY PARENTS WITHOUT ANXIETY

Bessie, the one case of incest pregnancy in this study, was the fifteen-year-old daughter in a proletarian family. Her father was employed on a river barge that plied up and down the Hudson from Albany to New York. There were eight siblings, four older than Bessie; the living conditions in the home had been poor and crowded. At the time of her pregnancy, Bessie was in the second year of a vocational high school in which she was learning the trade of textile machine operating.

She had been impregnated by her father during the preceding summer. It had been the mother’s practice to insist that the children spend the summer on the barge to lessen her work in the house. Since Bessie knew that an older sister had been forced by the father to submit to sexual relations (and was herself pregnant by the father at this time), Bessie protested violently against going on the barge—a protest which went to the extent of her drinking some iodine. But she eventually had to give in to her mother’s demand. On the barge Bessie occupied a bed with a brother and her father. During the summer she was forced three times by the father to submit to intercourse with him, he threatening to kill her if she refused his demands or if she told anyone.

When her mother subsequently learned of Bessie’s pregnancy by the father, she placed all the blame on Bessie, beat her severely, and threatened to kill her if she remained in the house. Bessie was housed temporarily at the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children and was later removed to Walnut House. During her confinement here, the father was brought to trial on the charge of rape by the older sister and was sentenced to the penitentiary.

Though it was difficult for Bessie to talk of the particular events leading to her pregnancy, she was responsive and open, albeit somewhat restless and bashful. In the interviews she impressed social workers and myself alike as an outgoing, cooperative, and responsible young woman.

Her mother not only exhibited an attitude of severe rejection toward Bessie, but also she consistently sought to make Bessie’s problems in the pregnancy as difficult as possible. At first the mother insisted that she wanted no responsibility whatever for Bessie, but when Bessie had decided to have the baby adopted, the mother began to insist that Bessie keep it and bring it home. Since it was “Bessie’s fault,” she should be made to take care of the baby; and the mother rationalized her desire to have Bessie and the baby under her control by saying that since her husband was the father, the baby was her own flesh and blood. But it was obvious, as an older sister pointed out to the social worker, that the mother’s real motives were punitive; she wished to have Bessie and the baby home in order that she could forever berate Bessie for the pregnancy. Whenever Bessie had decided on a plan of her own, the mother would aggressively attack her with a contrary plan. She strongly opposed Bessie’s first decision to make her home with an older sister after parturition and also her later plan to live in a foster home. These indications all form a picture of the mother as definitely sadistic.

It was not easy for Bessie to take a stand against her mother, as it was likewise difficult for her to verbalize hostility toward her mother. But the significant point is that in each issue, Bessie arrived at a realistic decision independently of her mother’s demands or pressure. Bessie’s attitude, in her own words, was “My mother is just that way—I just have to pay no attention to what she says.” During her visits to her family, when her mother would begin the familiar berating of her, Bessie would simply remark, “I came here on pleasure, not business,” and walk out of the house.

Bessie’s Rorschach showed an averagely intelligent, restless, self-assertive (in the constructive sense of “independent”) person, but with a meagerness and somewhat emaciated quality of personality.21 By “emaciated” I refer to the indications in the record that her meagerness was not entirely a result of lack of capacity for differentiation; it was also due to her slight tendency to keep herself at a relatively simple level of emotional development in order to avoid difficulties (i.e., complications) in her relations with other persons. The human beings in the responses were frequently skeletons or pictures, a fact which, coupled with the fact that her record showed her able to respond directly and easily to people, suggests that she sought to keep her dynamic, vital impulses out of her interpersonal relations. The only overt anxiety shown in the record was in three vista (FK) responses; but these, in the relatively balanced proportion in which they appeared in the record, indicated a fairly adequate and direct method of handling conflicts.

The particular conflicts which arose in the Rorschach, and to which these direct methods of handling were applied, were sexual and seemed to refer directly to her problem with her father and indirectly to her difficulties with her mother. Two of these vista responses were scenes in parks, a fact which makes sense in view of Bessie’s remark that it had been her practice to escape into a park near her home when her parents were abusive toward her. There was some latent schizoid possibility in the record (suggested in the bland use of color). It was not pronounced and is significant here chiefly in its indication of the form Bessie’s development would take in the face of insupportable stresses. While the anxiety in the Rorschach was in general not at all severe, there was an indication of some deeply encapsulated anxiety which would become overt in Bessie’s case only in a very severe crisis. Her Rorschach rating was: depth 3, width 2, handling 1, which placed her in the moderately low category of anxiety in comparison to the other girls.

Both Bessie’s childhood and present check-lists showed very little anxiety. She ranked lowest of all the girls in quantity on the former, and third from the lowest on the latter.22 The areas of anxiety were success or failure in work, what her family thought of her, and what her peers thought of her (though this determination of kinds should not be given much weight because of the small number of items checked in each area).

Bessie had warm and affectionate relations with her brothers and sisters. Apparently some of Bessie’s difficulty in standing against her mother was related to the power the mother derived from the fact that she happened to be the head of a family which—by virtue of the siblings—meant a great deal to Bessie. I wish to make it clear, however, that Bessie’s difficulty in standing against her mother was realistic and not neurotic. In each issue which occurred during her months at Walnut House and the later foster home, Bessie did not capitulate either subjectively or objectively to her mother’s demands.

The siblings had had during childhood, and likewise now had, their own constellation of affection quite apart from the parents. There was no competition among them for a love from parents which they apparently knew would not be forthcoming anyway. It seems that these brothers and sisters viewed their parents as the dominating and punitive persons they actually were. That Bessie was able to have these affectionate relations with siblings, in the face of parental rejection, undoubtedly is basically connected with her relative freedom from neurotic anxiety.

Bessie’s rejection by her father, already obvious from his treatment of her in the rape, has an illuminating prelude in the stories she related about her childhood. Whenever the father was romping with the other children and Bessie would approach, the father would immediately stop his playing. Bessie had always wondered about his behavior in these instances and had ascribed it to the fact that he had wanted another boy when she was born. But what is significant is that on these occasions Bessie would not withdraw from the group in a pout. “I just went ahead,” she remarked, entering into the play with the siblings regardless of the father’s withdrawal. Apparently his rejection of her was accepted by Bessie as an objective fact and neither led to subjective conflict and resentment nor changed her behavior.

While at Walnut House the anxiety Bessie exhibited was always connected with realistic situations. She was very much afraid of going to court in the instance of her father’s trial, and also in the later instance of the court hearing to permit her to stay at a foster home rather than at her mother’s. In the first instance she feared meeting her father; and in the second she was apprehensive about taking the stand before judges to testify.23 She experienced a realistic conflict about giving up her baby but came to the conclusion that she could take care of her married sister’s baby in place of her own. It was the judgment of social workers and psychologist that Bessie’s anxiety in these instances was situational rather than neurotic—i.e., was not the result of subjective conflict—and was handled by her with objectivity and responsibility.

Her relations with both the other young women and personnel at Walnut House were uniformly good. She laughingly spoke of herself as the “house tease,” but her teasing was all of the amicable kind and was accepted as such by the others. She received much spontaneous pleasure from taking care of the other girls’ babies, and apparently was stating a fact when she said, “All the children I’ve minded in my life like me, and I like them.” In her placement in the foster home after leaving Walnut House, she stated that she was very happy and she was described by the foster mother as a dependable girl with a very good disposition.

BESSIE EXHIBITED a moderately low degree of anxiety. Her conflicts were chiefly situational, and she handled them with a relatively high degree of realism and responsibility. There was an understandable tendency to withdraw from stresses which could not otherwise be managed. This withdrawal generally took a realistic (in this sense “normal”) form—e.g., in her going into the park to get away from her parents’ abuse. There was the latent possibility of schizoid behavior if stresses should become insupportable. But the fact that no such extreme tendency entered into her behavior in the face of the severe crisis of an incest pregnancy indicated that this latent tendency should not militate against the conclusion that she was prey to relatively little neurotic anxiety and that what anxiety she did have was handled in a relatively healthy way.

Bessie experienced a high degree of rejection by both parents. This, again, like the case of Louise, presents us with a distinct problem. Why did severe parental rejection not lead to the development of neurotic anxiety. In Bessie’s case it seems clear that the parental rejection did not engender internal, subjective conflicts. The problems with her parents were not introjected, either as a source of self-condemnation or as a source of persistent resentment. She accepted her parents’ rejection as an objective, realistic fact, an acceptance which was based on her realistic appraisal of her father; and (though her mother still had the power to make decisions difficult for her) her appraisal of her mother was likewise realistic. Thus the rejection was dealt with on the level of conscious awareness; it did not become confused with expectations that the parents might or could be different. The rejection did not basically pervert her own behavior: in the interesting childhood vignette, she continued her plan of playing with the other children despite her father’s flagrant rejection on her approach. She was able to develop affectionate relationships with siblings, peers, and other persons of all ages.

I tentatively suggest this principle: The adjustment to her rejection without internal conflict—i.e., without a rift between subjective expectations and objective reality—is the essential element in Bessie’s relative freedom from neurotic anxiety.

DOLORES: ANXIETY PANIC WHILE UNDER SEVERE THREAT

Dolores was a fourteen-year-old Puerto Rican, white, Catholic girl who had come to the United States three years before the present interviews. She was proletarian, her father being an unskilled factory laborer in Puerto Rico. Dolores was partially crippled from tuberculosis of the leg bone in childhood. There were four siblings, two older brothers, an older sister, and a younger brother, all in Puerto Rico. When Dolores was five, her mother was taken sick, and Dolores was required to remain home from school for six years to take care of her.

On the mother’s death, Dolores was brought to the United States by an aunt who was childless. The impression given by this aunt in her interviews with the social workers at Walnut House was that she had wanted Dolores in order to fill her own emotional needs. Affectionate toward Dolores for the first few months, the aunt had then abruptly changed to treating the girl with complete coldness, beating her frequently, and ostentatiously rejecting her in favor of the children of a relative who lived nearby.

All we could learn from Dolores was that an unknown man had pushed her into a cellar and had raped her. For over six weeks, during the preliminary interviews for her entrance to Walnut House and in the first weeks in the house, Dolores had clung tenaciously to this explanation of her pregnancy. We knew nothing except that her story was vague and unconvincing. During this period Dolores was very subservient and resigned, answering questions in the manner of one who dutifully obeys authorities but in every other way was markedly withdrawn. It was observed that she seemed alert when she thought she was unnoticed, but as soon as she felt anyone was watching her she assumed a hunched-over position and an “encased” attitude. This case is significant because it reveals the anxiety panic and psychological immobilization of an individual under a strong, persistent threat.

In her first Rorschach she gave only three responses, rejecting seven of the ten cards. The record clearly shows some very severe disturbance. She had a headache at the time scheduled for her Rorschach but at the last moment decided to take it anyway. Since headaches are often a psychosomatic symptom of conflict, hers was later seen to fit plausibly into her situation at the time. Her behavior during the test was marked by silent but very strenuous effort; she would hold on to each card for periods of three to five minutes, studying the card, then looking silently at the tester or up at the ceiling. It was evident that a strong subjective struggle was occurring. A diagnosis of psychosis was precluded by the fact that the three responses she did give are the most obvious ones in the test.24

There was indication in her behavior in the test that she tended to impute great power to authority (one aspect of which was the marked suspicion with which she regarded the tester’s taking notes on her responses). But she submitted to authority at the same time. We could only hypothesize that Dolores was in an exceedingly severe emotional conflict, which resulted in her being psychologically paralyzed on the test. The content of the conflict we could not determine at the time beyond the indications that it had something to do with the above-mentioned power she imputed to authorities. Her anxiety rating on this Rorschach was: depth 5, width 5, handling 3.

During this same first month she was taken three times to a clinic for the routine gynecological examination preparatory to parturition. The first two times, after having made no previous objection, Dolores became immobile at the clinic and refused to permit any examination. When it was later explained to her that the house could take no responsibility unless she cooperated, she finally agreed to go through with the examination, but when she again arrived at the clinic and was on the examination table she became hysterical and so muscularly rigid that the doctors could not proceed. We then hypothesized that her conflict had to do with the circumstances under which she had become pregnant. In the next two interviews with the social worker, during which Dolores was assured she would be protected from her aunt, she disclosed the whole account of her pregnancy.

Dolores was pregnant by her uncle, the aunt’s husband. He had come into her bed while she was sleeping, and the act had been completed before she could resist. Dolores had told her aunt, who then added continual threats to her punitive behavior, one threat being that if Dolores ever told anyone the truth about the origin of her pregnancy she would be sent to an institution where she would be beaten daily.

It was now clear that the extreme block on being examined—apparently Dolores had viewed the Rorschach in the same category as the gynecological examination—was due to the profound terror that the origin of her pregnancy might in some way be discovered. She would then be subject to her aunt’s threats i.e., be killed or placed in a punitive institution. The conflict itself took the form of the authority of the social workers, Rorschach tester, and doctors on one side and the authority of her aunt on the other—with her aunt’s authority having the additional weight of specific punitive threats. It will have been observed that she readily subjected herself to the “authority” of the psychologist, social workers, and doctors—e.g., she came to take the Rorschach, and she made the trips to the clinic without objection—until her subjection to these “authorities” came into immediate conflict with the power of her aunt.

After this conflict was relieved, Dolores’ attitudes and behavior underwent a radical change. She became outgoing and friendly in her relations to the other young women as well as to the personnel at Walnut House, and in contrast to the previous severely subservient behavior she now showed considerable independence in initiating projects in the house and developing her own hobbies. During the latter part of Dolores’ stay at the house, a minor problem began to develop in her defiant and at times aggressive attitude toward some of the girls. I take this behavior to be the opposite side of her compliant, subservient behavior toward authority, which was so predominant in her early attitude toward social workers and myself. It may be assumed that a compliant-defiant pattern, particularly related to her belief in authority, is a prominent part of Dolores’ character structure.

The second Rorschach, taken several months after the clarification of the conflict, also exhibits a radical change.25 The pathological blockage had disappeared.26 The Rorschach presented the picture not of overwhelming conflict but of an averagely intelligent, relatively undifferentiated personality with a very healthy core. There was some indication of a need to protect herself from emotional involvement with other persons, and of problems in the area of sex—e.g., she saw no men in the cards; Card IV, the top portion of which often elicits the response of a “man’s penis,” she termed a “gorilla.” The avoidance of men, and the association of sex with possible aggression, are understandable in view of her own recent traumatic sexual experience. It is fascinating that she first rejected Card VI (the card which also often elicits sexual responses) but in the inquiry she used it as a “parrot which can talk.” This makes us think immediately of the fact that she had been able to talk about her sexual problem and the origin of her pregnancy. The rating on anxiety in this second Rorschach was: depth 2 1/2, width 2 1/2, handling 2. This places her in the moderately low category in relation to the other young women.

Dolores ranked moderately high in quantity of anxiety on the childhood check-list, and high on both the present and future lists. Since the last was taken after the relief from her conflict, the high quantity of anxiety is not to be explained as a result of that conflict. I believe her relatively large number of items checked on these lists was due—as has been pointed out in cases above which represent the same character structure—to her being a compliant type in relation to authority and her feeling that she must diligently check every item which she could conceivably ever have worried about.27 The phobial forms of anxiety were the predominant area.

With respect to Dolores’ rejection by parental figures, we receive different pictures as we consider her relation to her aunt, to her mother, and to her father. It is clear that her aunt subjected her to extreme rejection. But the data concerning the more crucial early relations with her mother are less clear and must be largely inferred. Dolores stated in very general terms that she had had a warm relation with her mother. But the fact that the mother had been sick since Dolores was five, and that it devolved upon Dolores to remain home (at the price of missing schooling which she had greatly desired) to take care of the mother, despite the presence of two older brothers and an older sister in the family, gives a hint that there may have been some discrimination against Dolores and more rejection than she admits.

Her rejection at the hands of her father is indicated more clearly in her recital of childhood events. Since the onset of her mother’s illness, the father had lived with another woman, returning home only infrequently. On questioning, Dolores stated that her father had never played with her as a child, though he did play with her younger brother. When I asked Dolores whether she had regretted that her father never played with her, she looked up in considerable surprise, as though such a question had never entered her head. To me, her subsequent answer of “no” is even less impressive than the significant phenomenon that it not only had never occurred to her as a subjective problem but she was amazed that anyone else would raise it as such.

We rate Dolores’ rejection by her father as moderately high. Because of the paucity of data, especially with respect to the mother, we make our over-all rating of moderately high rejection tentative for Dolores, with the realization that she might perhaps as plausibly be placed in the moderately low category.

DOLORES’ CASE demonstrated severe conflict while under threat, resulting in anxiety which approached the intensity of panic, characterized by extreme withdrawal and partial psychological paralysis. She illustrates how a person can literally be scared stiff. The conflict was situational and vanished when Dolores, freed from the power of her aunt’s threats, was able to disclose the truth about her pregnancy. But while she was under the conflict, its power carried over to everything she felt might lead to discovering the secret which she must keep hidden. In this respect, it appears that an irrational, “magical” power to reveal the truth about the origin of her pregnancy was imputed to the gynecological examination.

The fact that Dolores’ character structure includes a marked attitude of power over her imputed to authorities and a corresponding tendency to subordinate herself to these powers is important for understanding why her conflict was so severe. For example, it could be hypothesized that the conflict would not have been so marked, and the manufactured story would not have been clung to so persistently and tenaciously, if she had not believed that the aunt had the power to enforce the threats and she herself had no power. And on the other side, the conflict would similarly have been less severe if Dolores had not imputed such power to social workers and the doctors. One could conceive, on this hypothesis, of her then holding to the dissimulation about the pregnancy with less feeling of being “trapped.” While in the conflict, Dolores’ anxiety was very high; after the conflict was relieved, her anxiety was rated as moderately low.28

We have tentatively rated Dolores as moderately high in rejection. The significant point, however, is that Dolores—like Louise and Bessie—did not interpret rejection as a subjective problem. The clearest example of this was her amazement at the question of whether she was sorry her father had never played with her. Rejection was accepted as a realistic fact, not as a cause of subjective questioning and conflict. On the basis of this reasoning, it is probable that even if there had been a high degree of rejection of her by her mother, Dolores would neither have interpreted it nor reported it as such.

PHYLLIS: ABSENCE OF ANXIETY IN AN IMPOVERISHED PERSONALITY

Phyllis, age twenty-three, was the oldest daughter in a middle-class family. She had two siblings, sisters of seventeen and twelve. Her father was Protestant and her mother Catholic; Phyllis had been brought up in conformity with her mother’s religion. At the time of her pregnancy she was employed as a bookkeeper in a bank. In school and business college (as, indeed, in the other phases of her life) she had always been known as quiet, studious, efficient, and meticulous. This last quality was shown at Walnut House in her excessively careful grooming whenever she came for an interview. The father of her baby was a physician in the army, whom she had met when she served as a USO hostess. His profession and rank of major were points of considerable pride to both Phyllis and her mother. Phyllis’ relationship with this man was marked by naïveté on her part and much idealization of him, her repeated remarks being that he was “brilliant” and “without flaw.”

Phyllis described her childhood as one in which she was “never unhappy” and in which she regularly acceded to the advice of her father (“whom we would never go against”) and to the will of her mother, who was a very dominating person. During the interviews at Walnut House at which her mother was present, Phyllis would always sit placidly by while her mother endeavored to deliver the decisions for Phyllis concerning the baby. Only once during her childhood could Phyllis remember having talked back to her parents; this was on an auto trip when she was eight. After her doing so, her parents had promptly put her out of the car and temporarily left her beside the road. Apparently she learned never again to take a stand against her parents. Phyllis had no friends of her own age, but this caused her no regret for, so far as her peers were concerned, she felt she could “have a good time without needing anybody else.” She preferred the company of older people; her “ideal of a good time,” never yet realized, was to be invited to join the ladies in her mother’s bridge club.

The great concern of Phyllis and her mother was that she have expert medical care during her pregnancy. She repeatedly emphasized that she was to go to the best women’s hospital in the city, and was now under the care of the head obstetrician at this clinic. The experiences at this clinic which Phyllis related to me illuminate the dynamics underlying her great emphasis on expert medical care. During a visit to this clinic preparatory to parturition, an assistant obstetrician had remarked that a Caesarian section might be necessary. Phyllis reported that the head obstetrician had then taken the assistant aside to caution him “against telling me anything that would make me nervous.” Whenever Phyllis had asked the chief obstetrician about her case, she reported that he always remarked, “You’re all right; we don’t talk to patients.”

Phyllis smiled contentedly when relating this; it seemed clear that being in the hands of an authority and not knowing anything about her condition herself seemed to her an ideal situation. This “ostrich policy,” or positive valuation placed upon not knowing, had its motivation, I assume, in the fact that it was a means of obviating any concern, conflict, or anxiety on her part. Once during the week preceding parturition, Phyllis was seized by a momentary anxiety that she might die. She immediately put this out of her mind by saying to herself, “It’s all science, there is no need for worry.” She emphasized that she believed “implicitly in science, and only in science.”

Phyllis’ Rorschach indicated a highly constricted, compartmentalized, “flat” personality, with very little inner activity or use of capacity for emotional relatedness with others.29 She exhibited excessive caution, confining her responses to details in which she could be meticulously accurate and successfully held herself aloof from emotional involvements with other people. Practically no conflicts or tensions were shown in the record, and very little anxiety. Evidently the constricted and cautious behavior had been so well ingrained in her that she accepted such impoverished modes of reaction without any particular subjective problems. Her anxiety rating on the Rorschach was: depth 2, width 2, handling 2, which placed her in the low category of anxiety in relation to the other young women. On the childhood anxiety check-list she ranked moderately low in quantity, with anxiety highest in the areas of the attitude of her peers toward her, success or failure in work, and the attitude of her family toward her. On the present anxiety check-list she ranked high, anxiety about the imminent parturition accounting for the increase.

Though Phyllis did have some anxiety about the prospective parturition (apprehension which focused around the fact that the birth was expected to be Caesarian), there is some suspicion that the markedly higher quantity of anxiety on this check-list represents at least partially her mother’s great anxiety about the parturition rather than her own. This hypothesis is in accord with the fact that Phyllis regularly adopted her mother’s attitudes in almost everything. In any case, the high quantity of anxiety on this check-list stands alone, all other criteria indicating that Phyllis had very little anxiety.

Only the slightest indications of rebellion against her mother ever emerged in the interviews. One was her interest in horseback riding, which prior to her pregnancy she had pursued despite her mother’s apprehension and mild disapproval. But in every major matter, such as in the plans for the baby, Phyllis acceded to her mother’s will. It was her mother’s eventual decision that they should keep the baby and raise it as their own. The question arises as to whether Phyllis’ extramarital pregnancy was in some way a rebellion against the mother, specifically a rebellion against the thwarting, suppressive influence of her mother upon her. No data emerged to confirm such a hypothesis. The data available—e.g., Phyllis’ naiveté in her sexual relations and her idealization of the man—suggest that the pregnancy was a product of her conforming, compliant pattern (that is, she engaged in sexual relations out of compliance to the desires of the man) rather than a rebellion against this pattern.

Phyllis expressed the desire to go home after parturition and never leave again. Just prior to parturition, the domination of the mother approached the point of cruelty: she made a practice of watching outside Phyllis’ door in the evening at Walnut House until ejected by the nurse and vented her extreme anxiety in the form of outbursts of rage at Phyllis. But all of this behavior by the mother was accepted by Phyllis placidly.

Two weeks after parturition Phyllis and her mother took the baby home, where it shortly died of pneumonia. In her subsequent visits to Walnut House, Phyllis was always dressed in black. She exhibited a large colored painting she and her mother had ordered made of the baby in its coffin; but beyond these ways of dramatizing the death of the baby, she exhibited no particular affect. In the follow-up interviews, Phyllis stated that she had given horseback riding and was refusing dates with men on the pretext that she was married. The social worker reported that Phyllis seemed like a dignified, dependent little girl, operating almost entirely on the theory “mother knows best.”

IN PHYLLIS, a person of a low degree of anxiety, we have observed a conforming, compliant personality. She remained free from emotional entanglements by means of affective impoverishment and submitted to her mother without subjective struggle at the price of surrender of her own individual autonomy. She had been “successfully” constricted by a dominating mother. The constriction was “successful” in the mother’s sense in that Phyllis did not rebel; and it was “successful” in Phyllis’ sense in that by means of capitulating to the mother and curtailing her own development she avoided conflicts, tensions, and anxiety. Phyllis reported no rejection (except the childhood incident, which was to her the exception that proves the rule). She never went against her mother enough to elicit outright rejection; and the covert rejection (e.g., in the mother’s hostility and rage just before parturition) was not interpreted in that light by Phyllis. Presumably Phyllis’ pattern of constriction had its genesis as a strategy in her childhood of avoiding the anxiety-creating situation of conflict with her mother. Phyllis’ present practice was to surrender herself to authorities—the mother, the idealized sexual partner, the expert medical care—and thus to avoid concern, conflict, and anxiety. What we have termed the “ostrich policy,” the desire not to know about her condition, the irrational faith shown in the use of the phrase “it’s all science, there is no need for worry” were all integral parts of her constriction.

I speak of irrational faith in science not with reference to the medical care itself (which in other persons may obviously be related to rational methods of coping with anxiety) but rather to the use Phyllis makes of what she terms “science” but I would call “scientism.” With Phyllis, belief in “scientism” is clearly a way of avoiding facing her anxiety, which in the instance of the momentary anxiety about death, might have had any one of many origins quite other than apprehension about death itself. This kind of “faith in science” is a superstition, falling in the same psychological category as a magical incantation or the use of a prayer-wheel, and serves the same psychological function for Phyllis as her submission to her mother’s authority. This case demonstrates that it is possible to avoid anxiety-creating situations by means of impoverishment of personality. But the price for such avoidance is loss of individual autonomy, personal responsibility, and the capacity for meaningful emotional relatedness to other persons.

Phyllis is an illuminating demonstration of the varying theories of Kierkegaard, Goldstein, and others that since anxiety arises as the person confronts possibilities for individual development and expansion, anxiety-creating situations may be avoided if the individual refuses to confront these possibilities. But the opportunities for psychological growth and expansion are lost at the same time. I may remark psychotherapeutically that the emergence of anxiety would be the most positive prognostic sign in the personality of Phyllis.

Of course, the most interesting question of all is, What will happen to Phyllis in the long run? Is it possible for a person to remain constricted as severely as she is without ultimately going into a depression or a radical revolt?30 Though each of us would answer that question on the basis of his or her own presuppositions about human nature, I would definitely say no. I believe that sooner or later this “perfect” adjustment will collapse. It may take the form, of course, of a resignation into a chronic depression which will then be called “normality.” This question bears upon the dynamics of “conformism,” adjustment to social norms, and what happens when authority is accepted not wisely but too well.

FRANCES: CONSTRICTION VERSUS THE CREATIVE IMPULSE

Frances, a twenty-one-year-old professional tap-dancer, was the adopted only child of a middle-class family. The case is interesting in the respect that Frances tried to constrict her personality in order to avoid anxiety but (in contrast to Phyllis) was not able to effect constriction successfully. At the points where the constrictive pattern broke down, anxiety emerged.

Her description of her relationships to her father and mother was marked by idealization. She stated that her childhood was “completely contented”; her father was “perfect” and her mother was “sweet” and always responded to her needs and wishes. But these references were regularly summed up in some general, evasive remark, such as, “You know how a mother and daughter talk understandingly with each other,” and there were no trustworthy indications that the affirmative relationship with her parents was more than superficial. When she was a child her mother had told her about her being adopted in the form of a “fairy-tale,” just as she told her other fairy-tales at bedtime. In later years the mother had suggested that Frances inquire into her real parentage through the adoption agency, but Frances had refused this advice because she “wanted to leave it as a fairy-tale.” Some indication appeared in dreams she happened to relate during the interviews that, underneath her ostensibly affirmative relation with her parents, she had pronounced feelings of isolation and hostility arising from the fact that she did not have her own parents. It seems a sound inference that the fairy-tale motif and the idealization of the parents served, as did the idealization of her boy friend, to cover up her hostility toward her parents.

Frances was pregnant by a young man whom she had idealized during the four years of their close friendship because he was a “gentleman and very dependable.” When, at her pregnancy, he did not propose marriage and even refused to contribute to her preparturition support, her attitude toward him abruptly changed to one of hatred. She verbalized this attitude freely, adding that she now “hated all men.” Presumably her idealization of the man had served as a defense against the underlying suspicion of, and her own repressed hostility toward, him; the sudden shift to antagonism suggests that this attitude, in repressed form, was there all the time. What both the idealization and complete antagonism have in common was the pattern to be indicated in the Rorschach, namely that she needed to avoid a realistic appraisal of human relations. After parturition, her attitude toward men (as shown in both the interviews and the second Rorschach) changed from avoiding contact with men to avoiding involvement. She phrased it, “I no longer hate men; I’m afraid of them”; her plan was to renew contacts with men, especially in her church groups, but never to become involved.

The Rorschach showed a relatively high degree of rigidity and constriction of personality on the surface, but the variety and originality in the record, the presence of some color shock, and the fact that the constriction often collapsed in the course of the test indicate that the constriction was not the mark of an impoverished personality.31 The need to constrict herself was particularly called into play when she was confronted by emotional involvement with other people, who she felt were malicious and hostile toward her. There was present hostility within herself toward others, but this was repressed. The chief technique by which she endeavored to constrict herself was a strong effort to keep her reactions on the level of “common sense,” “practicality,” and “realism.” When this device broke down in the Rorschach, as it did several times, anxiety came out. She sought to suppress her sensual promptings, at which again she was only irregularly successful.

A very interesting indication in the Rorschach was that her originality tended to destroy her constrictive pattern. There were indications that when she could suppress her originality, she was able to avoid much of her anxiety; but when her originality did emerge, it broke the pattern of constriction, and anxiety occurred. This Rorschach presented the general picture of an individual who tried to constrict herself as a protection against anxiety-creating situations, but the constrictive strategy continually broke down, and anxiety, generally of the free-floating variety, then ensued. The Rorschach anxiety rating was: depth 4, width 3 1/2, handling 2, which placed her in the high category in relation to the other young women. Her childhood, present, and future anxiety check-lists showed moderately low, moderately high, and high quantities of anxiety respectively, with ambition being the chief area of anxiety in each case.

In the interviews with both the social workers and the psychologist she always confined her talk to “practical,” “realistic” topics and continually refused to deal with underlying emotional problems. It seemed that the great emphasis on “realism” was a means of covering up her real feelings. She had a slight awareness of the protective nature of the “practicality,” admitting that she felt it was dangerous to express her real feelings or her originality, one of her reasons being that people would think she was “silly.” Thus in the interviews, in contrast to the Rorschach, she was able to hold to her constrictive pattern successfully and avoid most topics which entailed anxiety. Her relations with the other young women in the house were characterized by directness and facility in superficial relationship on one hand, but on the other a recurrent suspicion of and hostility toward them, which constituted at times a considerable problem in the house.

In rating Frances’ feeling of rejection, we confront the difficulty in the contradiction between surface statements—in which she would deny experiencing rejection—and the underlying indications. Since Frances’ constrictive pattern and her strategies of avoidance of her problems could not be broken through in the interviews, and since there was ample evidence (e.g., the idealization of her parents and the fairy-tale motif) for assuming that her verbalizations about her relation to her parents were untrustworthy, we based our judgment of her rejection on the underlying indications. From her failure to see people in the Rorschach, her underlying suspicion of and hostility toward other people, and her strong need to avoid contact and involvement with them, we assumed a moderately high degree of rejection.

WE FIND in Frances a moderately high degree of anxiety. She is a demonstration of anxiety emerging in a pattern of unsuccessful constriction. She tried to constrict herself as a means of avoiding anxiety-creating situations, particularly situations of involvement with other people. Two prominent mechanisms for this constriction were her endeavor to keep all her reactions on a very “realistic,” “practical” level and to idealize the other persons. Since she was actually not an impoverished personality, since considerable hostility toward others underlay the idealization, and since, indeed, the “realism” and idealization were contradictory, her constrictive pattern regularly broken down. One cannot hold contradictory beliefs at the same time; such a contradiction is bound, sooner or later, to disintegrate. It was at these points that Frances exhibited anxiety. The suppression of sexual and hostile impulses, as well as the suppression of originality, was part of the constrictive endeavor.

It is highly significant that when originality did come out in the Rorschach, anxiety did also. We have noted in the case of Phyllis that successful constriction obviates anxiety. A similar demonstration of the relationship between constriction and avoidance of anxiety is found in this case; when Frances was able to constrict herself, she did not experience anxiety, but when she was unsuccessful in her constrictive endeavors, considerable anxiety emerged.

CHARLOTTE: PSYCHOTIC DEVELOPMENTS AS AN ESCAPE FROM ANXIETY

Charlotte was a twenty-one-year-old daughter of middle-class parents in an agricultural community. Her siblings were a brother a year older than Charlotte and two younger brothers of seventeen and twelve. Her medical examination showed congenital syphilis and recently contracted gonorrhea.

Both her behavior at Walnut House and her Rorschach showed distinct, though mild, psychotic trends. The Rorschach contained several rationally distorted responses and was marked by shading shock, a long time average per response, and a great deal of blocking.32 She made much effort on the test, making frequent apologies with her responses, but her effort was ineffectual and without much affect. Some blandness was present, though not of the extreme sort characteristic of severe psychosis. During the Rorschach her behavior was marked by frequent ingratiating but vacant smiles at me, accompanied by an expressionless quality in her eyes. Diagnostically, the Rorschach indicated a mildly schizophrenic state, possibly of a hebephrenic nature. Very little anxiety was present, though her handling of her anxiety was by definition poor. The rating on the Rorschach was: depth 1 1/2, width 3, handling 4, which placed her in the low category of anxiety with relation to the other young women.

At Walnut House, Charlotte was generally gracious, bland, and genial, but these attitudes were periodically interrupted by outbursts of intense rage. The fact of pregnancy made very little impression on her, and, correspondingly, she showed a pronounced lack of realistic planning for parturition and the baby.

Her background likewise suggests some severe psychological disturbance. In her community she was known as a person who part of the time was very respectable and faithful in church frequently becoming what was known in the town as “boy-crazy,” and part of the time was given to impulsive, defiant and socially “wild” acts. At the age of twenty she impulsively married a rigid, overconscientious young man to “compensate for my lacks,” she put it. The marriage may have been an attempt to avoid a psychotic episode, to hold herself together. He subsequently suffered a psychoneurotic breakdown in the army. She visited him in the army camp at this time, and they agreed their marriage had been a mistake and decided to have it annulled. She described herself at this time as being “so mixed up I didn’t care about anything.”

There followed a period of promiscuous sexual activity, during which the pregnancy occurred. The act of intercourse which she assumed accounted for the pregnancy—with an army officer whose last name she did not know—she described as an experience she had not agreed to, but “I couldn’t do anything about it.” Possibly the behavior surrounding her becoming pregnant represents a mildly schizophrenic state (or the onset of the state) at that time.

Though Charlotte would talk freely about her childhood in the interviews, she would never talk about any present worries. No present problems seemed to exist for her; and when topics referring of possible present sources of anxiety emerged, she would assume a gay attitude or retreat, with vacant facial expression, into long periods of silence. Some minor remarks suggest a great deal of buried guilt feeling—e.g., “I made a mistake and have to pay for it”—but she showed no affect about guilt. Her childhood anxiety check-list showed a moderately high quantity of anxiety, with significant emphasis on “fear of the dark” (“because it represents the unknown”) and other apprehensions of a phobic character. But her present and future anxiety check-list showed moderately low and low quantities of anxiety respectively. To the extent that the quantities of anxiety shown on these check-lists can be taken at face value, they would support the supposition that in her prepsychotic state she experienced a great deal of anxiety, as we would expect following our discussion of anxiety and psychosis above (Chapter 3). But that the anxiety was now covered over by the mildly schizophrenic condition.

CHARLOTTE’S LOW degree of anxiety illustrates that psychotic developments of this kind effectively cover up the individual’s anxiety. With respect to the problem of anxiety, many forms of psychosis are to be understood as the end result of conflicts and anxiety which are too great for the individual to bear and at the same time are insoluble on any other level. In such cases great anxiety is generally found just before the onset of the psychotic state. That period may be represented in Charlotte just after she agreed to have her marriage annulled. The psychotic development itself may be characterized as a means of obviating otherwise insoluble conflicts and anxiety, at the price, in cases like Charlotte’s, of the surrender of some aspect of adjustment to reality. What the genesis of Charlotte’s psychotic trend was we do not know; but it is clear in her case that anxiety and conflict are to a considerable extent “covered over” or “lost” in the psychotic state.33

HESTER: ANXIETY, DEFIANCE, AND REBELLION

Hester, seventeen years old, was the only girl in a middle-class family. Two of her brothers were two and four years older respectively, and one was five years younger than she. Her father, an interior decorator, had drowned after a period of excessive drinking when she was seven. She had attended an upper-middle-class private denominational girls’ boarding school for her secondary education, where she was known as rebellious, given to temper tantrums, intellectually well endowed but “lazy.” She was pregnant by a sailor with whom she had had only a casual friendship.

Her Rorschach showed a good deal of emotional impulsiveness and infantilism, some tendencies toward exhibitionism, and prominent tendencies to be defiant toward those in authority over her.34 Her sexual impulses were used largely in the service of this defiance. The only human being seen in the Rorschach was a clown. The anxiety in the Rorschach emerged especially at the points of her guilt feeling, this, in turn, being a product of her defiance, particularly her use of sexual impulsiveness as a form of defiance. The rating of anxiety in her Rorschach was: depth 3, width 3, handling 3, which placed her in the moderately high category in relation to the other young women. On the childhood and present anxiety check-lists she showed a high degree of anxiety, her chief areas of anxiety being what her peers thought of her, phobial apprehensions, and anxiety about competitive status in school and work.

The family atmosphere in her childhood had been marked by much teasing, some of it of a sadistic intensity, on the part of the father and brothers. The mother had been particularly the butt of this teasing, although Hester herself had received a considerable share. She felt she had had a fairly close relationship with her father as a small child, but some of the stories she related suggested that his teasing had pained her more than she admitted and that his behavior involved some definite rejection of her. For example, she had been out fishing with him as a child; on their way back to the car she had gotten caught on the barbed wire of the fence. He (ostensibly in “teasing”) had gotten in the car and driven around the block, leaving her hanging there. Hester laid her rebellious behavior to the fact that her father died when she was young. “If I had had a father to talk with, all these messes [including the pregnancy] would not have happened.” Her mother, interviewed at Walnut House, appeared to be a passive individual. Beyond the fact that she had always regarded Hester as a problem and had been forced to show some concern about Hester’s predicaments at school and elsewhere, she seemed never to have shown much interest in or understanding of her daughter.

An adult relative who apparently had a fairly thorough understanding of the family was interviewed at Walnut House. She stated that the mother had been so occupied with preserving material and social advantages for her children that she had not paid attention to them personally and that she had given attention to Hester only in the girl’s most severe predicaments. It is interesting that this relative thought it would have been better if the mother had been more “authoritative.” To the extent that this would mean her being more responsive to Hester, more of a real and immediate person in Hester’s environment, even at the price of occasional punishment of her, there is ground for the hypothesis that Hester would have received some very needed psychological orientation in her family. Her extensive rebellious behavior, designed, as we shall hypothesize below, to commandeer her mother’s concern, would have been less necessary. Though Hester felt that she admired her mother, she also stated that her mother was remote and uncompanionable; she had frequently invited her mother, she asserted, to go to games with her, but the mother had always refused. According to Hester’s description, the mother would take the part of the boys when, during childhood, there were quarrels between the siblings.

Hester’s defiance and rebelliousness seemed covertly and overtly to be directed against her mother, and there were indications in the interviews (bearing out the Rorschach data) that the sexual impulsiveness fell in this category. Her first sexual experience had occurred when, at the age of thirteen, she had run away from home, hitchhiking to a distant city and back again. There were indications that her pregnancy served both as defiance and as a means of forcing her mother to take an interest in her. Hester’s most frequent method of allaying anxiety was to laugh it off—a form of behavior which, in this context, may also be viewed as defiance (e.g., “I don’t care”).

WE FIND in Hester a moderately high degree of anxiety and a moderately high degree of rejection. Her present anxiety arose out of her guilt feelings over her defiant and rebellious behavior, her sexual impulses (and probably the pregnancy) being employed in the service of such behavior. The rejection consisted centrally of the mother’s lack of concern or interest in her, and Hester’s defiance and rebelliousness seem to have been motivated chiefly by the need to force her mother to show some concern. The genetic source of her anxiety presumably lay in original feelings of isolation from her mother, with the father’s death contributing to this isolation in a significant but probably subsidiary way. In Hester, thus, there was a vicious circle: she sought to overcome the original anxiety (isolation) by methods—defiance and rebelliousness—which produced more anxiety.

SARAH AND ADA: ABSENCE AND PRESENCE OF ANXIETY IN TWO BLACK WOMEN

Sarah

Sarah, a twenty-year-old proletarian black woman, had been born in a Southern state, where her father was a miner and her mother a domestic. At the age of four, Sarah went to live with an aunt and paternal uncle (also a miner) in a borderline Southern state, for the reason that they liked children but had none of their own. Of her five siblings, two others had lived with her at the home of the aunt and uncle. After graduation from high school, Sarah had come to New York and at the time of her pregnancy was working as a welder in a factory.

Sarah impressed the social workers and me alike as a stable, well-adjusted, independent person who accepted and dealt with her problems objectively. She planned realistically for the birth and care of her baby (and after its birth eventually succeeded in the relatively difficult task of keeping it and supporting it herself). She was certain she wished not to accept financial assistance from the city welfare department but to pay for her care at Walnut House out of her own savings. She had been very fond of the young man who was the father of her baby, having at one time considered marriage with him. But after she became pregnant, his attitude and behavior became increasingly unreliable. At the time of her stay at Walnut House, she wished neither to marry him nor to receive financial assistance from him, but she did make considerable effort to get him to permit his name to be used by the baby. When he consistently refused, Sarah was disappointed but accepted and adjusted to the fact realistically.

Sarah’s ambition (which came out prominently on her check-lists) did not take an aggressively competitive form. In fact, while in school, she had worked out an ideal of “not being at the top, nor at the bottom, but somewhere in the middle.”35 She received much satisfaction from her work, and apparently her employers had a very high opinion of her, for they reserved her job for her till she could return after her parturition.

The only situation which presented a problem in Sarah’s behavior at Walnut House arose from the fact that her independence sometimes took a defiant form, largely around the racial issue. Since she and Ada were the only two blacks living with a group of whites, and since several of the white women expressed some racial prejudice, Sarah at first made a practice of remaining aloof and staying much of the time in her room. “If you stay away from groups, you avoid trouble” was her formula. She exhibited outright defiance against one of the staff who, she felt, was “bossy.” She reported that she had disliked remaining in the South when she visited her parents because there were “too many rules and restrictions, and you have to say ma’am to somebody no older than yourself.” Sarah’s defiance was sometimes more extreme than the situation warranted (she admitted that she sensed some affronts where none was intended). But at the same time it was not indiscriminate defiance; it arose only where she felt the racial issue was present in the other person’s attitudes. On the whole, however, it would seem that her special sensitivity and defiant independence are understandable for a black living in an intimate situation with a group of whites in a condition (pregnancy) in which many of them were apt to be especially defensive. In this sense, I consider Sarah’s defiant tendency as largely a mode of conscious adjustment rather than as the expression of a neurotic pattern. It would seem to be an entirely tenable hypothesis that this conscious defiance served a positive function—i.e., it had been developed by Sarah as a technique for adjusting to the racial issue without the impoverishment of her capacities or the surrender of her psychological freedom.

Sarah’s Rorschach showed an original, somewhat naïve, genuinely extroverted person with higher-than-average intelligence.36 There was some compliance and much capacity for caution in her relations with people, but neither of these characteristics was in neurotic form—i.e., the caution and compliance were conscious ways of adapting to situations rather than mechanisms of self-repression. A fairly high degree of independence was shown, with definite indications that she knew what she wanted and did not want. She employed a technique of not taking life too seriously, preserving a somewhat happy-go-lucky attitude, avoiding complications by avoiding depth in her relations; but these traits again did not appear in severe form and did not involve impoverishment of her capacities. On the whole, it was the picture of a differentiated but uncomplicated personality. Almost no conflicts or indications of neurotic problems were present. Her rating on anxiety in the Rorschach was: depth 1, width 1, handling 1, which placed her in the low category in relation to the other girls. Correspondingly, her childhood and present anxiety check-lists placed her in the low and moderately low categories respectively for quantity of anxiety. The chief areas of anxiety were ambition and what her friends and family thought of her.

There were no definite signs of rejection in Sarah’s background. She reported a happy childhood in her own family and in her life with the aunt and uncle, and her attitudes toward her aunt and uncle and her siblings were, like her attitudes toward her parents, affectionate. A report from the social service agency in the home city of the parents reported them to be hard-working, responsible, sympathetic persons, and all that could be deduced was that Sarah had had a relatively healthy background within her two families as a child. She did not wish her parents or her aunt and uncle to know about the pregnancy until after parturition, for she felt they would want to help her financially even though they could not afford to. Through an accident in social agency channels, Sarah’s parents were informed of her pregnancy before parturition; Sarah was angry that this should have happened against her expressed wish (recall her defiance, cited above, at people who are “bossy” or go over her head). But the ensuing letters from her parents showed understanding and no condemnation of her whatever.

SARAH RANKED low in degree of anxiety, and at the same time exhibited no discernible experience of rejection. Her problems were objective and realistic, managed without subjective conflict, with the one possible exception of the special sensitivity to racial discrimination and resulting defiance. But this, likewise, may be termed a “normal” rather than neurotic reaction in view of her realistic cultural situation as a black woman. It may be concluded that Sarah’s relative lack of neurotic anxiety was related to the fact that she did not experience psychological rejection within her family circles, either as a child or in the present situation. But a cultural factor emerged in the case of Sarah (as of Ada, the other black woman): extramarital pregnancy is not as much of an anxiety-creating situation in the black communities from which Sarah and Ada came as in the cultural milieux of the white women. It may be, thus, that we did not have Sarah in a genuinely anxiety-creating situation. This factor, though it could account for less presence of anxiety, could not account for the absence of neurotic anxiety in Sarah. The Rorschach would assumedly reveal neurotic anxiety if it were present, whether the subject were in an objective anxiety-creating situation or not.

Ada

The other black in this study is Ada, age nineteen, Catholic, who had lived most of her life in a suburb of New York. Since her father’s death when she was four, she and her brother (two years younger) had been supported by her mother with some help from the department of welfare. Ada had attended a Catholic primary school, but a public high school. After her graduation from high school at seventeen, her mother had had a “nervous breakdown from overwork” and had gone to live with relatives in the South. Ada and her brother moved to New York to live with an aunt.

Ada’s original vocational aim was nursing, but with the occurrence of the pregnancy she decided that she would become a factory worker in order to support the baby. It was difficult to place Ada accurately with respect to socioeconomic class: there were proletarian elements in her background, but her original aim of being a nurse and many of her attitudes (discussed below) seemed to be middle-class. We described her as on the borderline between proletarian and middle-class.

She was pregnant by a young man her own age with whom she had had a close relationship since the middle of her high-school career. According to her description, he had always been very “possessive” of her and jealous of her other friends, and she had apparently submitted to his dominating tendencies. Though admitting paternity, he had refused to marry her, at which she reported she had “put him out of my mind.” Her medical diagnosis revealed syphilis, contracted from this young man.

Ada’s Rorschach showed a very stereotyped, acquiescent, compliant person with no originality and with average intelligence.37 The chief feature of the record was the fact that she set high standards for herself, but the standards were empty of positive content. It was as though she had a great need to measure up but no self-chosen goals or feelings of what she wanted to measure up to. It was the picture, in conventional terms, of an individual with a strong superego. The motivation for holding the high standards was that she could thereby comply with others’ expectations of her and with her own introjected expectations. As a consequence her spontaneity and inner instinctual promptings (sex and hostility) were almost entirely repressed. There was considerable potentiality for sensual and other forms of responsiveness to other persons, but such responsiveness gave her anxiety because she could not respond in ways that fitted her high standards. We recall that her motivations for the sexual relations were never stated by her. From the Rorschach picture we hypothesized that the motivations were both her own sexual promptings and her need to comply with the expectations of the young man. The latter motivation was probably more significant in the respect that it would be necessary for Ada to have her compliant tendencies on the side of the sexual relationship in order to overcome her strong sexual repression.

When a response occurred (Card VII) associated with vagina examination at the hospital, a general disturbance was cued off which lasted through all the remaining cards in the test, amounting almost to a confabulatory tendency. This would indicate that if she failed to live up to her standards (the pregnancy being associated with such a failure), she was deeply disoriented in her relation to herself as well as to others, and much anxiety arose. Anxiety rating on the Rorschach was: depth 2 1/2, width 4 1/2, handling 3, which placed her in the high category of anxiety in relation to the other young women.

Ada ranked moderately high in the childhood anxiety check-list and moderately low in both the present and future check-lists. Her chief areas of anxiety were success and failure in work and what her family and parental surrogates thought of her, anxiety about her teacher or mother scolding her being prominent.

In her behavior at Walnut House as well as in the interviews, Ada continually exhibited the above-described combination of compliance and high standards. She answered all questions conscientiously but never volunteered spontaneous expression of thoughts or feelings. She could always be depended upon to run errands at the house and to cooperate in other ways which did not require initiative. Since she had neither the independence nor the defiant tendencies of Sarah, she got along well with the white women. In her school career she had always obtained very high grades. She expressed satisfaction that in her schools “everything was drilled into you—you learn more that way.”

The genesis of Ada’s need to hold rigid standards for herself could be seen in her description of her mother and their relationship, and, to a lesser extent, her relation with her aunt. Though Ada remarked in blanket terms that her mother had been a “happy” person during Ada’s childhood, the fact that the chief symptom of the mother’s present “breakdown” was her “worrying about everything” suggested that she was probably a tense and rigid person. A clearer indication of the mother’s rigidity was seen in the fact that she was very strict with the children; Ada reported that the mother frequently whipped the son “because he didn’t come exactly when she called.” Ada herself had not been punished often, according to her reports; in fact, she felt her mother had been too lenient with her. This statement, however, may have been an expression of Ada’s own rigid standards (i.e., she felt she should have been punished more often) rather than an objective description of the childhood situation. As a child Ada was always obedient, and always conformed to her mother’s wishes, with only occasional and slight feelings of hostility toward her mother. Ada reported that she had learned to go off by herself and “get over” this anger. The mother and aunt with whom Ada later lived were faithfully practicing Catholics, as Ada likewise had always been.

Ada described the aunt as also very strict. In an interview at Walnut House, the aunt explained that she had made a conscious effort to inculcate high standards in Ada, that she had been very proud of her; and although she did not feel punitive toward Ada because of the pregnancy as such, she did not wish to accept Ada back into her apartment after she became pregnant because it would be a sign of the relaxing of the standards she had trained in her own two children. If we may take the aunt’s attitudes as representative of the family constellation in which Ada was brought up, we have a graphic expression of the formula of the adults which presumably underlay Ada’s psychological pattern: (1) these adults sought to inculcate “high standards” in her; (2) they were proud of her to the extent that she complied with these standards; and (3) they threatened her with rejection if she did not comply with these standards.

It was impossible to find overt feelings in Ada of rejection by her mother, with whom Ada felt she had had a friendly, though somewhat distant, relationship until she was an adolescent. It seemed clear that from childhood onward Ada had so well accepted and complied with the “high standards” of her mother and the environment that the mother was never given cause to reject her overtly. While at Walnut House, Ada could never bring herself to let her brother know about her pregnancy, since she was certain he would reject her; and she hesitated for several months before writing her mother about her situation. When she did finally inform her mother, the mother apparently accepted the fact of the baby and suggested plans for their keeping it together.

IN ADA we find a moderately high degree of anxiety. Her degree of rejection varied as it was viewed in different aspects: she was rejected in a moderately high degree by her aunt; she expected a high degree of rejection by her brother; and although the rejection was difficult to assess in her relation with her mother because of her previous complete compliance with her mother’s wishes, there were indications that Ada had considerable fear of rejection by her mother. We could, therefore, assume that rejection was present potentially in the relationship.

But the essential point for the understanding of the dynamics of Ada’s anxiety is the rejection she felt in the face of her “high standards.” These standards were not indigenous, self-chosen values, but were introjections of the formal expectations of her mother and the family environment. Hence the significant form of her present rejection was self-rejection, the self having taken over the authority of the parent. When Ada felt that she had not lived up to these internalized expectations, a profound psychological disorientation occurred (most graphically illustrated in the Rorschach), and subjective conflict and much anxiety ensued.

The fact that the mother accepted the expected baby should not be taken as an argument against the mother’s potential and covert rejection of Ada. Indeed, as stated in the comments on Sarah, the problem of the occasion for rejection must be viewed differently in the cases of these black young women from the others at Walnut House. There were numerous indications in the case of Ada, as well as that of Sarah, that having a baby out of wedlock was not in itself as serious or opprobrious a situation in the black communities from which they came as it was for the white women. It does not seem that rejection in Ada’s case—e.g., the aunt’s not wishing her to stay at her apartment, Ada’s fear of her brother’s rejection, and Ada’s rejection of herself—arose from the fact that she was going to have a baby out of wedlock, but rather from the acts that led up to the pregnancy. What was disapproved of in these acts is again hard to define specifically, since the “standards” that were violated are mere forms rather than having a specific content. It seems to me that the rejection facing Ada, and the psychological disorientation underlying her anxiety, had their source in the fact that Ada complied with an authority and with expectations (i.e., the young man’s expectations and her own sexual impulses) other than those of her mother or the mother surrogates. Corroborating data for this statement are suggested by the fact that Ada did not exhibit any pronounced guilt feeling about the sexual relations or the pregnancy as such. The anxiety appeared to come directly out of a psychological disorientation that arose, in turn, out of her not complying with her mother’s expectations.

We have pointed out in previous cases in this study that the conflict underlying neurotic anxiety may be described as a hiatus within the person between expectations and reality, originally with respect to parental attitudes. In Ada’s case a clear hiatus was present underlying her anxiety, but it took a somewhat different form; it was a hiatus between her introjected expectations of herself and the reality situation.38 The anxiety in Ada’s case did not arise out of guilt feeling because of the sexual relations or pregnancy as such, but rather arose directly out of the psychological disorientation which she experienced because of her having complied with authority and expectations other than those of her mother.

One might make the assumption that Ada could be free of anxiety if she complied with her mother’s expectations, albeit in their introjected form. But the ineffectualness of such protection from anxiety is amply demonstrated in Ada’s case. To gain and preserve freedom from anxiety on this basis she could never follow her own desires, nor could she ever comply with anyone other than the mother; but since her way of relating to all other persons was to comply, her psychological patterns were bound to be continually jeopardized. The case illustrates the dilemma of the person whose freedom from anxiety depends on compliance with an authority that is not rooted in his own autonomy.

A COMPARISON of Sarah and Ada highlights the above-described dynamic of neurotic anxiety. For both black women, the fact of illegitimate pregnancy did not present as much of an anxiety-creating situation as it did for the white women. Both showed compliance: in Sarah compliance was a conscious method of adjusting, particularly to the racial issue, but her autonomy and self-feeling were protected by conscious defiance whenever she felt that to comply would threaten her independence. But for Ada compliance was an unconscious pattern as well as conscious, her self-feeling and self-acceptance depending on how well she complied, prototypically with her mother’s expectations. In Sarah, there was very little or no feeling of rejection by her parents; in Ada there was considerable feeling of rejection, in the form of rejection of herself in the face of her introjected standards. In Sarah, there was very little subjective conflict and very little anxiety. In Ada there was strong subjective conflict between her introjected expectations and her reality situation, leading to pronounced psychological disorientation and a moderately high degree of anxiety.

IRENE: ANXIETY, OVERCONSCIENTIOUSNESS, AND SHYNESS

Irene was the nineteen-year-old adopted daughter of relatively old middle-class parents. The family had always lived in the country, and since there were no siblings, Irene’s life had been relatively solitary until high school. She was pregnant by her fiancé, with whom she had had a close relationship during her high-school years. Irene stated that her parents had not overtly opposed her engagement but had not approved of her fiancé because his parents ran a liquor store. The several sexual relations she had had with the fiancé occurred after her graduation from high school and just before they planned to marry.

The chief features of Irene’s Rorschach were very great conscientiousness, pronounced contact shyness and withdrawal tendencies, overrefined control, and a tendency toward stereotype of interest (presumably related to her solitary background), with a fairly high degree of originality at the same time.39 Her very long pauses, during which she studied the cards industriously as though silently considering and rejecting possible responses, seemed to be partly due to her cultural difficulty in self-expression, but also were evidences of her compulsive conscientiousness. This latter compulsion to do well involved so much effort that it markedly inhibited her productivity.

Though her intratensive promptings were easily accepted by her, she exhibited very much caution in responding to emotional stimuli in her relations with other people. The shyness, withdrawal, and caution could be partially understood as cultural difficulties in expression and responsiveness—she herself related these traits to the fact that “I’m just a country girl.” But on a deeper level the caution was a protection against anxiety-creating emotional involvements, the anxiety showing itself chiefly in her overconscientiousness. It is as though she felt she could not relate to people except by means of the compulsion to be perfect, to fulfill some very high standards. When, however, she was able to break through her shyness and caution and respond to outside stimuli on the Rorschach, both her anxiety and overconscientiousness diminished. This would imply that the overconscientiousness was a defense against the anxiety-creating situation. Anxiety rating on the Rorschach was: depth 4 1/2, width 2, handling 2, which placed her in the moderately high category in relation to the other young women.

Both her childhood and present anxiety check-lists fell in the low category in quantity, but this was undoubtedly due to her block in expression as shown on the Rorschach. On the former list, anxiety concerning success and failure in work was the markedly predominant area, with phobic apprehensions second; on the present anxiety list, the chief area of anxiety was again success and failure in work, and the second what her family thought of her.

Apparently Irene’s compulsive conscientiousness had been a character trait all through her life. She related that by dint of very great effort she had graduated at the head of her high-school class and then suffered a temporary “nervous breakdown.” For another example, she said she had always been very careful not to select her friends from a “lower social class” than her own. In the interviews she also showed cautiousness and a considerable desire to please, but this behavior seemed not so much for the purpose of gaining my approval as for the purpose of living up to certain standards of behavior of her own.

Her parents were very conservative, religiously and morally, not believing in dancing, smoking, or going to the movies. They had, however, overtly granted her freedom in these respects. Irene had joined a more liberal church and participated in the abovementioned recreations without overt conflict with her parents but—as we shall see below—probably with considerable covert conflict. She characterized her mother as having always “worried a good deal.” In an interview at Walnut House the mother referred to Irene as “mother’s little girl,” and it was admitted by both Irene and her that she had always sought to overprotect and “coddle” the daughter. The parents had been hurt and surprised by the pregnancy but had accepted it and cooperated with Irene in her plans. Again, however, their attitude was that of adults taking care of a child.

The home background was characterized overtly by an emotional vacuum: the parents had scruples against quarreling, either between themselves or with Irene. Their practice had been never to spank her but rather, when she committed some infringement as a child, to reason with her and then to make her sit quietly in a chair—“during which I would boil,” Irene remarked. It is plausible that this lack of emotional give and take and the absence of any emotional outlet as a child, together with the parents’ belief in rigid standards, set the stage for the development of considerable guilt feelings in Irene. It is also plausible that these guilt feelings were an important motivation in Irene’s overconscientiousness. She stated that she had always been very lonely as a child. Apologizing for saying so, she asserted that she had been closer to her two dogs than to her parents. She had never felt any bond of understanding between herself and her mother, and had never been able to talk intimately to her mother.

Her engagement and sexual relations with a boy of whom the parents did not approve seemed to be motivated both by her repressed hostility toward her parents, especially toward her mother, and by her need to compensate for the lack of warmth and understanding in her relationships at home. In her later interviews at Walnut House, Irene expressed considerable hostility and resentment against her mother, focusing chiefly on the facts that her mother had coddled her and had had so little understanding of or faith in her.

Irene was able to use the therapeutic opportunities at Walnut House very constructively. The follow-up data several months later indicated that she was making a very good and enthusiastic adjustment at college.

ALTHOUGH THERE was no physical rejection (e.g., punishment) of Irene, there were sound evidences that she experienced a good deal of emotional rejection and very much loneliness; hence we rated her as moderately high in rejection by her parents. On the basis of her well-defined symptoms of anxiety—overconscientiousness, withdrawal, cautiousness, and shyness—our over-all rating for her anxiety was also moderately high.

Though superficially these behavior traits were related to her solitary background, on a deeper level the withdrawal, conscientiousness, and caution seem to represent endeavors to adjust to the anxiety-creating situation of her relation with her parents. The withdrawal and contact shyness seemed to be protections against the emotionally cold milieu of the family, and the overconscientiousness I see as an endeavor to adjust to the fact that she could not be accepted unless she lived up to her parents’ rigid standards. The emotional vacuum and unreality in the family likewise gave the context for the subjective conflict which underlay Irene’s anxiety. The parents not only patently repressed their own aggression, but likewise gave her no opportunity to react against them (e.g., the “reasoning” with her and placing her in a chair amounting to an authoritative suppression of her resentment and hostility). I have indicated above that, though the parents ostensibly permitted her to make her own liberal choices, there were evidences that in making these choices, as well as in her state of suppressed hostility, Irene experienced considerable guilt feelings. The compulsive conscientiousness could be seen, on one side, as motivated by this guilt feeling.

It may be observed parenthetically that Irene’s subjective conflict and guilt feeling was all the stronger psychologically because she was never permitted to feel conscious hostility against her parents. In contrast to Louise and Bessie, who suffered outright punishment at the hands of their parents, Irene thus could find no objective focus for her guilt feelings.