silently about his own naГЇvetГ© and the tenuousness of reality, the mood of

the group darkened and progressed from incredulousness to stridency.

«What, you`re joking!»

«I can`t believe it. How could you have come here week after week

and withhold this?»

«You never took a drink with me, not even a beer. What wasthat all

about?»

«Goddamn it! When I think of all the wild–goose chases you led us

on, all the time we wasted.»

«What kind of game were you playing?—everything a lie—I mean

that stuff about Rose`s problems—her bitchiness, her refusing sex, her

refusal to have a child, and not a word about the real issue—your

drinking.»

Once Julius got his bearings, he understood what to do. A basic

axiom that he taught to his group therapy students was:Members should

never be punished for self–disclosure. On the contrary, risk taking must

always be supported and reinforced.

With that in mind, he said to the group: «I understand your dismay

that Gill never told us this before. But let`s not forget one important

thing:today Gill did open up, he did trust us. ” As he spoke, he glanced,

only for a moment, at Philip, hoping that Philip would learn something

about therapy from this transaction. Then to Gill: «What I`m wondering

about iswhat made it possible for you to take this kind of chance today? ”

Gill, too ashamed to face the others, concentrated his attention on

Julius and replied in a chastened tone. «I guess it was the risky revealing

in the last couple of meetings—beginning with Pam and Philip and then

Rebecca and Stuart—I`m pretty sure that was why I could say—”

«How long?» interrupted Rebecca. «How long have you been an

alcoholic?»

«Creeps up on you, you know, so I`m not sure. I always liked the

booze, but I guess I started meeting all the criteria about five years ago.»

«You`re what kind of an alcoholic?» asked Tony.

«My favorite poison is Scotch, cabernet, and black Russians. But I

don`t turn down anything—vodka, gin—totally ambidextrous.»

«What I meant was ‘when` and ‘how much,`” said Tony.

Gill showed no defensiveness and seemed prepared to answer any

question. «Mostly after hours. I start with Scotches as soon as I get home

(or before I get home if Rose is giving me a hard time), and then I work

my way through good wine the rest of the evening—at least a bottle,

sometimes two, until I pass out in front of the TV.»

«Where`s Rose on this?» asked Pam.

«Well, we used to be big wine buffs together, built a two–thousand–bottle cellar, went to auctions. But she`s not encouraging my drinking

now—now she rarely has a glass at dinner and wants no part of any wine–related activities, except for some of her big social wine–tasting events.»

Julius tried again to buck the current and bring the group back to the

here–and–now. «I`m trying to imagine how you must have felt coming to

meeting after meeting here andnot talking about this.»

«It wasn`t easy,” Gill admitted, shaking his head.

Julius always taught students the difference betweenvertical

andhorizontal self–disclosure. The group was pressing, as expected,

forvertical disclosure—details about the past, including such queries as the

scope and duration of his drinking—whereashorizontal disclosure, that

is,disclosure about the disclosure, was always far more productive.

This meeting was vintage stuff for teaching, Julius mused, and he

reminded himself to remember the sequence of events for future lectures

and writing. And then, with a thud, he recalled that the future had no

relevance for him. Though the poisonous black wart had been carved out

of his shoulder, he knew that somewhere in his body lethal colonies of

melanoma remained, voracious cells that craved life more than his own

fatigued cells. They were there, pulsating, gulping oxygen and nutrients,

growing and gathering strength. And his dark thoughts were always there

also, percolating under the membrane of consciousness. Thank God for his

one method of stilling his terror: entering into life as forcefully as

possible. The extraordinarily intense life being lived in this group was

very good medicine for him.

He pressed Gill, «Say more about what passed through your mind

during all those months of group meetings.»

«What do you mean?» said Gill.

«Well, you said, ‘It wasn`t easy.` Say more about that, about those

meetings and why it wasn`t easy.»

«I`d come here all primed but never could unload; something

always stopped me.»

«Dig into that—thesomething that stopped you.» Julius rarely was

so directive in the group, but he was convinced that he knew how to move

the discussion in a beneficial direction that the group might not take on its

own.

«I like this group,” Gill said. «These are the most important people

in my life. I`ve never been a real member of anything before. I was afraid

I`d lose my place, lose any credibility—exactly like what`s happening

now. Right now. People hate drunks...the group will want to boot me

out...you`ll tell me to go to AA. The group will judge me, not help me.»

That was exactly the cue Julius had been waiting for. He moved

quickly.

«Gill, look around the room—tell me, who are the judges here?»

«Everyone`s a judge.»

«All identically? I doubt it. Try to discriminate. Look around the

group. Who are the main judges?»

Gill kept his gaze on Julius. «Well, Tony can come down on you

pretty hard, but no, not on this—he likes his booze, too. That what you

want?»

Julius nodded encouragement.

«Bonnie?» Gill continued to speak directly to Julius. «No, she`s no

judge—except of herself and, once in a while, of Rebecca—she`s always

gentle with me. Stuart, well, he`s one of the judges; he definitely has a

self–righteous streak. Pretty goody–goody sometimes. And Rebecca, for

sure—I hear a lot of directives: be like me, be sure, be thorough, be

dressed right, be washed, be neat. That why I felt released when Rebecca

and Stuart showed so much vulnerability: that made it possible for me to

open up. And Pam—she`sthe judge. Chief justice. No doubt about it. I

know she thinks I`m weak, unfair to Rose, you name it, everything about

me is wrong. I don`t have much hope of pleasing her—in fact, I don`t

haveany hope.» He halted. «Guess that`s it,” he said, scanning the group.

«Oh yes, Philip.» He spoke to Philip directly, unlike the other members.

«Let`s see...I don`t think of you judging me, but I`m not sure if that`s

entirely a compliment. It`s more that you wouldn`t get close enough or

involved enough with me even to bother judging me.»

Julius was well pleased. He had defused the nonconstructive moan

of betrayal and the punitive grilling of Gill. It was a matter of timing;

sooner or later the details of his alcoholism would be aired, but not at this

moment and in this manner.

What`s more, Julius`s focus on horizontal disclosure had yielded a

bonus—Gill`s ten–minute gutsy go–round was a bonanza of data—enough

there to fuel a couple of good sessions.

Turning to the group, Julius said, «Reactions anyone?»

There was hesitation—not, he imagined, because there was so little

to say but too much. The agenda groaned with its own weight: the

members had to have reactions to Gill`s confession, to his alcoholism, and

his sudden toughness in the last few minutes. He waited expectantly. Good

stuff was on its way.

He noted that Philip was looking at him, and, for a moment, their