“I have been wicked in my day, but I never thought a little girl like you would ever be able to melt me and end my wicked deeds.”
L. Frank Baum
—The Wizard of Oz
“It’s the desolate expanse of my homeland that leads the natives to drink. All along the highway hidden in the long grasses are filthy shells, the husks of our tools of self-destruction. A little farther from the highway, the shallow graves. But there is a sound that pulls us on. It is a dirge that accompanies our exodus, barely audible under the scream of the wind and the endless sound of cars. I know you sense it, even with a brain dulled from boredom, staticky Top 40 hits, and shiny, quickly prepared food. The sky is heavy, achingly beautiful; but I have no delusions of escape.”
At age 13, Lynn expressed the feelings of the walking dead, the “goners” of the Communist gulags, victims of evil that requires relinquishment of “the personal core of one’s being” (Des Pres 1976, p. 69). Lynn’s homeland, however, was suburban America. Her dull, hollow eyes reflected her withered spirit.
The Witch’s children may feel disconnected from life, internally dead, “trapped in a world of total domination, a world hostile to life and any sign of dignity or resistance” (Des Pres 1976, p. 13). The human spirit does not die as easily as the body. It shrivels slowly, like a plant deprived of water, and eventually succumbs from a “relentless assault on the survivor’s sense of purity and worth” (p. 60). The body becomes a cumbersome shell, the mind a wasteland, the eyes a mirror reflecting the vanquished will. The human being becomes a human doing; the being no longer exists.
Therapists work desperately to rescue children held captive by Witch mothers. Although the Witch may appear for only a moment before the good mother returns, children glimpse their absolute helplessness and the futility of escape. The therapist becomes a lifeline for children to hold onto while the sand runs out of the hourglass. Time, eventually, will set them free. When they grow up, they can get away on their own.
Ernest Wolf (1988) explains that merger-hungry personalities must dominate others, “their need to control is often experienced . . . as a feeling of being oppressed” (p. 74). Merger-hungry personalities such as the borderline Witch desire complete control over their children. Dreikurs (Dreikurs and Soltz 1964) explained: “When parent and child become increasingly involved in a power struggle and each tries to subdue the other, a transaction of intense retaliation may develop. The child, in his discouragement, may proceed to seek revenge as his only means of feeling significant and important” (p. 62).
The no-good child is most susceptible to annihilation anxiety, functioning primarily as a receptacle for the Witch’s self-hatred. Like an atrophied appendage of the Witch’s body, the no-good child feels numb, useless, and despised. Some children fight for their lives and try to cut themselves free. They feel hated and learn to hate. Adult children of borderline Witches frequently dream of concentration camps, of escaping a holocaust, of human sacrifice and torture. They dream of killing their captors, their mother, or themselves. Lynn wrote, “My mind is a dark, dirty cell in this prison. There’s nowhere for me to go . . . just circles . . . there is no joy.”
No-good children dream of being sentenced to prison. They see themselves as sick, dangerous, bad, and guilty: “I am sick, sick, sick in the head. The evidence lies in the dreams I’ve been having. I was in prison for mass murder, they kept me in a special part of the prison for those who were very angry and very dangerous . . .”
Although the Witch seeks to destroy the spirit of the no-good child, she is unaware of her destructiveness. Like Nazi SS officers, she believes wholeheartedly that she is only doing her job. Lynn declared, “I don’t have a mother. I have a parole officer.” Having been raised by parents who demanded absolute loyalty and obedience, the Witch mother wields her power as blindly as she once relinquished her will to her own parents. Denial of her child’s pain comes as easily to her as denial of her own pain. The Witch projects the war that rages within her onto the no-good child.
Witch mothers do not recognize their behavior as destructive; consequently, they are defensive when therapists confront or report their abusive behavior. Medean Mothers may believe the child is better off dead because the child is spared further suffering. The words of a concentration camp survivor (Klein 1957) reflect a child’s blind faith in the parent: “Why did we not fight back? . . . I know why. Because we had faith in humanity. Because we did not really think that human beings were capable of committing such crimes” (p. 89). The Witch’s children, too, fall victim to their own faith in humanity and therefore repress awareness of their mother’s destructive power.
Children have faith in their parents and believe in their greater wisdom. No child wants to believe that her mother is capable of brutality. Alice Miller (1984) explains that both parent and child come to believe that such treatment is for the child’s own good. In his book on moral life in concentration camps, Todorov (1996) observed, “In the totalitarian ethic, loyalty to the leader is a fundamental obligation” (p. 189). Young children need to believe that their mother knows what is right and good. Their trust and loyalty are truly blind, for they have no other experience by which to assess her judgment. They believe in her basic goodness, more so than they believe in their own goodness. It is safer to accept the view that they are evil than to consider the consequences if mother is evil.
Lynn was immersed in a hostile, dangerous environment, but her private world of psychological torture was the only world she had ever known. Guiltless but convicted, she was sentenced at birth. Unlike concentration camp survivors, the Witch’s children never knew any other kind of life, and believe they deserved such treatment. They never knew love, freedom, or the joy of expressing their own thoughts prior to their imprisonment. Even as adults, they may have more faith in their mother’s basic goodness than in their own.
Most adult children have no understanding of why they dream about concentration camps. The everyday experience of growing up in an emotionally hostile environment is normal to them and becomes repressed. As an adolescent, however, Lynn remained imprisoned and seriously considered suicide:
“If you only knew how much I hate you Mother. If anyone knew or understood how much I hate myself, and those who have made me that way. No. I am not human anymore and I don’t care. I want to kill myself. There. I said it. I want to rip myself open and finally FINALLY be free. I’ve lost everything and I’m so, so sick of pretending.”
Suicide represents the last act of free will, “to choose the moment and the means of one’s death is to affirm one’s freedom” (Todorov 1996, p. 63). Controlling feelings of rage, fear, and revenge can be a matter of life and death for the Witch’s children. The sheer number of books written about the effects of anger on one’s health attests to the destructiveness of even low levels of chronic anger. Every child raised by a borderline Witch knows that anger kills, and feels the toll taken on the body when rage is repressed.
In their book, Anger Kills, Redford and Virginia Williams (1993) report that, “about 20 percent of the general population has levels of hostility high enough to be dangerous to health” (p. 3). But the level of rage experienced by children of Witches can be equally dangerous to society, resulting in homicide or suicide. Degradation by someone who claims to love you is qualitatively different than degradation by a stranger. Adult children of borderline Witches can learn a great deal about managing rage from studying how survivors of concentration camps managed their anger. The Witch’s children cannot afford to live with hate.
Like members of totalitarian regimes, children of Witch mothers may exercise their will with angry defiance or continue to be controlled by fear. Provoking the ire of the Witch may be the only power the young child holds, and although he may be severely punished, the child feels more secure when in control of his environment. Adult children have other, healthier options because they have the power and freedom to get away. Yet, the Witch mother may remain steadfast in her desire for control, even when the child becomes an adult. Emotional set-ups, invisible traps, and vicious threats may intensify as the child matures.
Society cannot afford to ignore the level of rage experienced by children of borderline Witches. Demanding blind obedience or coercing others into compliance inevitably creates resentment or hatred. By the time the Witch’s children are adults, they may suffer from uncontrollable rage or demonstrate passive compliance, cynicism, and unconscious hostility. Hatred must be dissipated before it destroys.
“Remember that the Witch is Wicked—tremendously Wicked—and ought to be killed. Now go, and do not ask to see me again until you have done your task.”
—The Wizard of Oz
Although the Witch is capable of evoking murderous rage, the key to survival lies in disarming, not attacking her. Physically attacking the Witch merely provokes her to further retaliation. Killing the witch did nothing to help Dorothy get back to Kansas. She won her freedom from the Land of Oz by using power she already possessed. Like Dorothy, the Witch’s adult children must free themselves by using the power they already possess.
Survivors of prison camps document survival techniques that children of Witches develop unconsciously. Literature provides a cherished escape from a world filled with pain and suffering. Journal keeping and letter writing preserve verification of unspeakable experiences. Mind-numbing work keeps captives focused on the present and from despairing about the future. Hope is measured against time, and only a flicker is needed to keep the soul alive.
Prison camp survivors either flee for their lives or are eventually released from captivity. Children who run away from home enter the juvenile justice system and often face further punishment when they return home. The Witch’s children unfortunately may face ongoing degradation, violent threats, humiliation, and depersonalization. The Witch’s adult children are expected to be loyal, loving, forgiving, and obedient. They celebrate holidays, bring gifts, give hugs, prepare meals, and physically care for abusive mothers. They may tolerate mistreatment because it seems normal.
Like a snake, the Witch strikes when she is confronted or cornered. The Witch within the Queen may emerge when she feels controlled, or when others fail to admire her or treat her as special. The Witch within the Hermit may appear when she feels invaded, challenged, rejected, or cornered. The Witch within the Waif may appear when she feels blamed, criticized, rejected, or abandoned. Unfortunately, children have little control over when, where, or why the Witch appears. The key to survival lies in escaping her control.
Even in cases of self-defense, attacking one’s mother never brings about a positive outcome. The child is at greater risk for continued abuse because aggression reinforces the Witch’s perception of her child as a threat. When the Witch’s children are young, they have no hope of escape unless they confide in someone they trust. Even then, however, they run the risk of not being rescued if they are not believed.
A social worker in a pediatric hospital was called to observe the mother of a newborn in intensive care. The baby experienced inexplicable episodes of apnea that occurred only during the mother’s presence. After close observation, the social worker suspected that the mother was deliberately smothering the infant with her breasts while nursing. Although the case was reported to child abuse authorities, the child remained in the mother’s custody. Five years later the mother was convicted of killing the child by injecting, her antipsychotic medication into the child’s intravenous line. This 5-year-old child had lived her entire life with a mother who was trying to kill her. Such children cannot be saved if others believe that Witches exist only in fairy tales.
Surviving the Witch requires getting away. Only adult children have the power to decide how much contact they want with their mother. The all-good child may be more capable of tolerating closeness than the no-good child, who is the target of the Witch’s hostility. The Witch’s children must allow one another to make their own decisions regarding the amount of distance needed to feel safe. Some patients report being unable to tolerate having a conversation with their mother. They cannot tolerate the sound of her voice or the sight of her without feeling intense rage or disgust. The feelings that adult children have toward Witch mothers are intense and sometimes unmanageable. Personal limits must be respected, particularly in terms of safety.
Keeping a safe distance from one’s mother may mean not being alone with her. The presence of another person can reduce the possibility of attack by the Witch or by the adult child. During his psychiatric treatment at Atascadero State Hospital, Edmund Kemper discovered “that I really killed my grandmother because I wanted to kill my mother” (Cheney 1976, p. 29). Kemper’s psychiatrists emphatically recommended “above all that he [Edmund] never be returned to live with his mother” (p. 33). In spite of this recommendation, officials released Edmund to his mother’s custody. Shortly thereafter, he murdered her while she slept. Failing to create distance can be disastrous. Some adult children are unable to tolerate closeness with their mothers because they fear hurting her.
The Witch’s hostility can trigger volatile arguments between her and her children. Adult children must disengage from conflict as soon as it erupts. Ending a discussion when her voice becomes haughty, her words become sharp, or her heart turns cold is essential. A verbal attack by the Witch evokes an instantaneous visceral response of feeling sick to the stomach, an indication of the power of her venom. Although she may state, “You make me sick,” the Witch’s words make others sick. Adult children have one option: not reacting to her attempts at provocation and leaving.
The Witch mother often uses threats to control adult children. De Becker (1997) warns that “How one responds to a threat determines whether it will be a valuable instrument or mere words. Thus, it is the listener and not the speaker who decides how powerful a threat will be” (p. 130). One patient reported that her mother threatened to hire a hit man to have her sister killed. Another patient recalled that her mother threatened to disown her. Although such threats may not be realized, adult children must trust their intuition. Adult children who believe they are in danger have every right and responsibility to protect themselves. Disengaging from conflict does not mean becoming submissive, complacent, or relinquishing one’s will.
Disaster is certain to follow any attempt to control the Witch. One patient recommended that her mother take medication to reduce her anxiety. The patient’s mother felt controlled by the mere suggestion that she needed help and told the patient, “You’re the one who needs medication!” If she chooses not to take medication properly, it is her decision. If she chooses to hide money in her mattress, it is her decision. Because the Witch is terrified of not being in control, adult children must respect her right to control her own life.
The Witch’s adult children need to respond to her domination with firm resistance. Adults must not submit to the Witch’s demands and should exert control only over their own behavior. Dreikurs (Dreikurs and Soltz 1964) recommended being firm without dominating. Domination is the imposition of one’s will on another. Firmness expresses the conviction of one’s own will. A 35-year-old patient was clearing the table after serving dinner for her parents when her mother commanded in a hostile tone of voice, “You put that dish down and listen to me!” Caught off guard, the patient realized that her mother expected her undivided attention. The patient replied firmly, “I don’t want you to speak to me in that tone of voice. This is my house.” Startled, her mother scuttled from the room like a frightened spider and retreated into a back room of the house. Firmness demonstrates strength of character, domination demonstrates underlying fear.
The Witch’s no-good children feel soiled, damaged, dirty, and defective. As adults, they carry remnants of feeling unclean and may have humiliating dreams of soiling themselves, of not being able to find bathroom facilities or privacy. Having contact with their mother increases the risk of possible humiliation. They fear having no place to retreat, no safe corner in which to hide from her denigration. Regardless of their age, they remain susceptible to the Witch’s power to degrade and humiliate them.
Surviving degradation, as an adult in concentration camps or as a child in one’s own home, requires maintaining a sense of dignity and purity. Des Pres (1976) explains that “washing, if only in a ritual sense—and quite apart from reasons of health—was something prisoners needed to do. They found it necessary to survival, odd as that may seem, and those who stopped soon died” (p. 63). Restoring a sense of purity and goodness is essential for anyone who has suffered from degradation.
The antidote for exposure to malignant denigration is to surround oneself with goodness, light, and love. Adult children must counteract the effects of the Witch’s verbal venom by self-soothing, caressing the spirit, holding the self gently in the light, bathing the self in the friendship of those who love the real self, with the response of a loving dog or cat, by the warmth of one’s own fireplace, a cup of tea, or a warm bath.
Power possessed by adult children threatens the Witch’s control. An attractive young patient had plunged into despair following a conversation with her mother, who had called her a slut. During the session, a smile emerged through her tears as she discounted the ludicrous charge. Yet she could not shake off the feeling of being soiled. “I feel like I’m 4 years old again, when my mother said she’d be better off without me,” she explained. This talented young woman, a caring mother with two young children, was an accountant. The more successful she became, however, the more her mother needed to degrade her. Rather than retaliate, the patient decided to take a short trip to visit a friend. She reminded herself how grateful she is to be grown up and to have the power to get away from denigration.
When it is clear that the Witch’s hostility is escalating, it is time to disengage. If she is successful in provoking others to attack, she accomplishes her goal. If her hostility is ignored or tolerated, it will continue and possibly escalate. The Witch will throw every emotional stone she can find in the attempt to provoke others. One mother hissed, “You’ll never hear the end of this,” as her daughter calmly walked out the door. The Witch’s words are alarming, designed to evoke fear, uncertainty, and apprehension. But she is powerless over adults who use their power to disappear.
The conviction to do no harm allows one to maintain a sense of basic goodness. Without this conviction, adult children can be provoked to respond to the Witch’s hostile projections. Acts of vindictiveness, retaliation, and revenge fuel the Witch’s control. The single most powerful human is one who masters the talionic impulse: the need for revenge: “that deepest and most ancient of human impulses to exact revenge by taking pleasure in inflicting on others the hurt one has experienced” (Masterson 1981, p. 182). The Witch’s children must demonstrate their greater power by mastering the need for revenge. Retaliation is unrestrained instinct and requires no strength of character. The Witch is trapped within her self-constructed cage of self-hatred. Inflicting pain on such a tortured soul is pointless. Her children must transcend their hatred by holding on to the belief in their own goodness. Children who seek revenge destroy their good selves.
“Oh gracious!” cried Dorothy. “Are you a real witch?”
“Yes, indeed . . . But I am a good witch, and the people love me.”
—The Wizard of Oz
The Witch’s adult children need to create distance in three separate realms of their being: spiritually, physically, and emotionally. Adult children can create spiritual distance by affirming their own goodness. Children of borderline Witches must think of their future, of the long-term consequences of acting on retaliatory impulses. They must, therefore, stand in the light of their own basic goodness, displaying strength and character by doing no harm.
Helene Deutsch (in Sayers 1991) struggled to manage her hatred toward her own mother: “ ‘She was a mean woman, and I did not want to be like her . . .’ she felt her mother regarded her as ‘poison’ ” (p. 25). In the effort to create spiritual distance from her mother, Helene named her country home in New Hampshire, “Babayaga,” the Polish word for “Good Witch.”
Creating physical distance sends the clear message “I am separate.” Power lies in what the Witch’s adult children do, not in what they say. “I am” statements are likely to be ridiculed by the Witch or used to provoke the child. Being different from the Witch, being separate, means not internalizing her rage, hatred, vindictiveness, and need for retaliation. Separateness requires the ability to walk away, or to ask the Witch to leave.
Picture the scene from The Wizard of Oz when the Good Witch of the North envelops Dorothy in her arms as the Wicked Witch of the West brandishes her broom, threatening to take the ruby slippers. The Good Witch laughs and says to the Wicked Witch, “Be gone . . . you have no power here!” The Good Witch has confidence in her goodness and power. She is not afraid, she believes in herself. Adult children have this power, but like Dorothy with the ruby slippers, they do not know how to use it.
The single greatest power adult children possess is their ability to get away. Talking about the source of the danger does not make it go away. Saying “I will not tolerate being treated this way,” and failing to leave demonstrates ambivalence, which can be deadly. De Becker (1997) stresses: “ ‘No’ is a word that must never be negotiated, because the person who chooses not to hear it is trying to control you . . . Declining to hear ‘no’ is a signal that someone is either seeking control or refusing to relinquish it . . . If you let someone talk you out of the word ‘no,’ you might as well wear a sign that reads, ‘You are in charge’ ” (p. 73). When one feels endangered, distancing is not negotiable.
Adult children can create emotional distance by not confiding in the Witch. No one should trust a Witch. The Witch uses the words of others in order to beguile and control. In 1890, psychologist William James wrote:
Neither threats nor pleadings can move a man unless they touch some one of his potential or actual selves. Only thus can we, as a rule, get a “purchase” on another’s will. The first care of diplomatists and monarchs and all who wish to rule or influence is, accordingly, to find out their victim’s strongest principle of self-regard, so as to make that the fulcrum of all appeals. But if a man has given up those things which are subject to foreign fate, and ceased to regard them as parts of himself at all, we are well-nigh powerless over him. [pp. 312–313]
Thus, the Witch’s children instinctively know not to reveal their true selves, their desires, feelings, or opinions to their mother.
Many adult female children create emotional distance by avoiding being like the Witch in any way. They despise those parts of themselves that remind them of her. They may undergo cosmetic surgery to change physical features that remind them of their mother, and may avoid becoming a mother at all. The word “mother” may mean “witch” to the Witch’s children.
“You are a wicked creature!” cried Dorothy.
“You have no right to take my shoe from me.”
“I shall keep it, just the same,” said the Witch, laughing at her, “and someday I shall get the other one from you, too.”
—The Wizard of Oz
Structuring a relationship with the Witch requires one basic requirement: zero tolerance. When the Witch appears, the adult child must leave, hang up, terminate the interaction. No borderline mother is always a Witch, and some borderline mothers are never Witches. But when the Witch appears adult children must distance themselves immediately and completely. They must have a plan so that they are not caught off guard, trapped, or cornered with her. Holidays can be especially difficult because family members often feel obligated to be together, to spend the day together, to share a meal or an afternoon. Regardless of the situation, adult children must leave when the Witch appears. This simple step is the single most effective way of disarming the Witch, but many adult children are afraid to take such a stand.
Adult children who cannot permit themselves to leave when they feel hurt or endangered must acknowledge that their behavior says “You can hurt me.” The words “I will leave, I will protect myself, I will take care of myself” must be enacted, not spoken to the Witch. An individual can be made to feel subhuman merely by the tone of voice and the manner by which she is addressed. The right to protect one’s spirit should be honored as highly as the right to protect one’s body. Whether an attack is physical or verbal, adult children have the right to protect themselves.
Open-ended situations allow children of Witches to control interactions. When making plans with their mother adult children can protect themselves by saying, “I haven’t decided how long I’m going to stay.” They must have the ability to get away in case the Witch appears. They need to drive their own car and should never plan to ride with someone else. They must make it clear that they will come and go as they please. They should keep visits brief and avoid discussion of controversial topics. They should avoid being alone with their mother.
Structuring a relationship with the Witch requires being alert to signs of her emergence from the good mother. One Witch mother wistfully sighed, “I have so much fun talking to you, let’s go shopping together next week.” The adult daughter replied honestly, “We get along better when we keep our visits short. I’d rather not go shopping.” Because the Witch often emerges following periods of closeness, her children are leery of offers of assistance and opportunities for closeness.
Emotional traps are not always obvious. Insinuation alone can trigger fear and guilt. De Becker (1997) explains that trusting intuition is the opposite of living in fear. One patient’s mother casually mentioned to her daughter that she did not think she had long to live. Her mother said that she “felt it in her bones,” and wondered if her daughter could spend more time with her. The daughter detected an edge to her mother’s voice and felt like a fish on a lure. Uncomfortable, she realized that her mother was intentionally invoking guilt. The daughter replied that she had not been feeling well herself and needed to rest. The Witch’s adult children need to trust their intuition, not their mother.
Then, being at last free to do as she chose, she ran out to the courtyard to tell the Lion that the Wicked Witch of the West had come to an end, and that they were no longer prisoners in a strange land.
—The Wizard of Oz
Being an adult means being free to do as one chooses, accepting the consequences for one’s behavior, and responding with consequences when one’s personal limits are violated. Consequences teach others to respect personal limits. The first rule for interacting with the Witch concerns safety, hers as well as her child’s. Adult children confirm separateness from the Witch by creating distance whenever they feel threatened, provoked, or unsafe. The consequence for behavior that threatens the safety of others is to create distance.
Secondly, the Witch can be disarmed by not responding to provocations, threats, emotional set-ups, or traps. The adult child can control what type of information is shared, how much time is spent together, and how much closeness will be tolerated. The relationship with the Witch should be structured on the need for safety, the need for privacy, the need for order, and the need for civility. The consequence of violations of personal limits should be consistent—leaving, escaping, and seeking freedom from the Witch.
An adult patient and his siblings dreaded celebrating holidays at their mother’s home where they felt trapped, once again, with their Witch mother. When these middle-aged children suggested celebrating Thanksgiving at the patient’s home, their mother snapped “You’re full of shit!” and ended the conversation stating, “Fuck Thanksgiving and fuck you!” Although her children were well-respected professionals, they struggled with feelings of guilt and anxiety, expecting to be punished for expressing their feelings. Nevertheless, they celebrated Thanksgiving without their mother, recognizing that it was her choice not to attend.
In order for adult children to survive the Witch, they must fight hatred as well as fear. Etty Hillesum (in Todorov 1996) was 29 years old when she died in a concentration camp, but the journals she kept provide inspiration to those who suffer from oppression, maltreatment, or injustice. She spoke of the inner war against hatred, the only war that can be fought and won by oneself. The Witch’s adult children must win this war in order to save themselves. Todorov writes of Hillesum’s victory over hatred in Facing the Extreme:
If we hate the enemy the way he hates us, all we are doing is adding to the world’s evil. One of the worst consequences of the occupation and the war, Hillesum maintains, is that the victims of the Nazis begin to become like them. “If we allow our hatred to turn us into savage beasts like them,” she writes, “then there is no hope for anyone.” Someone who sees no resemblance between himself and his enemy, who believes that all the evil is in the other and none in himself, is tragically destined to resemble his enemy. But someone who, recognizing evil in himself, discovers that he is like his enemy is truly different. [p. 200]
How does someone stop hating? Primo Levi, after surviving the Nazi concentration camps, was unable to formulate and record his memoir until he met his wife. “The fact of being loved transformed him, freed him from the clutch of the past; recognized in the gaze and in the desire of another, Levi was confirmed in his humanity” (Todorov 1996, p. 261). The Witch’s child can only stop hating through the experience of being loved. A therapeutic relationship, a surrogate parent, a relationship with an adult who believes in the child’s goodness and worth, are the only experiences that can mitigate hatred. The tiniest stream of light, of love, can revive a weary spirit, because the Witch’s children, like all captives, survive on hope.
There is no substitute for a loving relationship in the healing process. The adult child who turns inward, away from others and away from the world, will never heal from the wounds of the past. A loving relationship provides safety and freedom, and restores self-esteem. There is no short cut, no recipe, no twelve-step program that can heal self-hatred. There is only love. Not until one has entered the safety of a healthy, loving relationship is it possible to look back and acknowledge the pain of the past.
The personal limits of adult children may preclude them from taking care of their Witch mother. A 59-year-old patient shared her candid perspective:
“I’ve made it clear to my mother that she will never live with me. It would never work for me to try to take care of her. It wouldn’t be safe for either one of us.
“No one understands . . . What everyone else sees is a sweet little old lady. I remember hearing a story about a female minister who was reported for abusing her mother. A neighbor saw the daughter slap her mother. My first thought was that the ‘sweet’ little old mother said vicious, degrading, terrible things to her daughter and her daughter finally snapped. A person can only take so much. It could have been me, but I won’t let myself be in that position.”
Adult children need to clarify consequences by doing rather than by saying, and by not saying what they are thinking or feeling. The Witch’s children can assert personal power by listening to their own inner voices: “I won’t tell her such and such . . .” or “I won’t allow myself to get angry . . .” or “I won’t allow her to live with me.” The Witch’s children learned what survivors of prison camps learned: that experiencing and revealing “emotion not only blurred judgment and undermined decisiveness, it jeopardized the life of everyone” (Des Pres 1976, p. 131).
Reflecting on their childhood, adult children of borderline Witches feel as though they passed through Dante’s gates of hell, over which was written, “Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here.” Cruelty endured from one’s mother is unlike any other. The child may repress rage, direct it at the self, or direct it at those who represent the mother. Frequently, internalized rage takes a toll on the child’s body, possibly contributing to autoimmune disorders and other physical ailments. In her book Thou Shalt Not Be Aware, Alice Miller (1986) observes:
The truth about our childhood is stored up in our body, and although we can repress it, we can never alter it. Our intellect can be deceived, our feelings manipulated, our perceptions confused, and our body tricked with medication. But someday the body will present its bill, for it is as incorruptible as a child who, still whole in spirit, will accept no compromises or excuses, and it will not stop tormenting us until we stop evading the truth. [p. 316]
The body speaks for the soul if the soul does not find a voice.
Survivors cannot be silenced. A concentration camp survivor (Des Pres 1976) revealed in his journal, “I dare not hope that I shall live through this period, but I must work as though my words will come through” (p. 40). Auschwitz survivor Primo Levi (1989) recalled that
Those who experienced imprisonment . . . are divided into two distinct categories . . . those who remain silent and those who speak . . . those remain silent who feel more deeply that sense of malaise which I for simplicity’s sake call “shame,” . . . The others speak . . . because . . . they perceive . . . the center of their life, the event that for good or evil has marked their entire existence. [p. 149]
Pain that is expressed, heard, and believed is not experienced in vain. Pain that is heard can then be tolerated and healed.
The Witch’s children grow up. They learn to speak; they remember the truth. Some may remain silent forever, protecting themselves from the unendurable horror of telling the truth that no one believes.1 Those who speak find that very few people are prepared to hear what they have to say.
1. Primo Levi (1988) writes in The Drowned and the Saved: “Almost all the survivors, orally or in their written memoirs, remember a dream which frequently recurred during the nights of imprisonment, varied in its detail but uniform in its substance: they had returned home and with passion and relief were describing their past sufferings, addressing themselves to a loved one, and were not believed, indeed were not even listened to. In the most typical (and cruelest) form, the interlocutor turned and left in silence” (p. 12).