A Wolf in the Attic by Sophia Richman

Author:Sophia Richman [Richman, Sophia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: History, General, Military, World, Psychology, Industrial & Organizational Psychology, Religion, Judaism, Social Science, Sociology, Women's Studies
ISBN: 9781136400001
Google: HA0sBgAAQBAJ
Publisher: Routledge
Published: 2012-11-12T15:54:19+00:00

* Name changed.

Chapter 13

On My Own Again

Mark stood by the large plate glass window in my new apartment overlooking the well-manicured garden in Washington Square Village. Night had settled on the city, and the lights glowed in the tall buildings surrounding us. “What if I were to jump?” he asked without emotion. His question hung in the air. I thought to myself: Is he serious? Is he threatening me? Would he really jump from my thirteenth-floor window? I had no idea how to respond. Should I laugh, call his bluff, or reassure him that I still cared about him and didn’t want him to hurt himself? When I didn’t react to his satisfaction, he tried another approach: “My therapist says I’m suffering from clinical depression. If he hospitalizes me would you visit me?” He glanced at me to see my reaction. I tried to hide my emotions. “Yes,” I answered matter-of-factly.

Mark certainly knew how to create a drama. I steeled myself against being drawn into it. I truly felt sad that he was having such a rough time with our separation, but I was not willing to feel guilty or give up my hard-won freedom. It was difficult to believe that I had spent six years of my life with this man who seemed a stranger at that moment as he stood in my studio apartment threatening to jump out of the window and trying desperately to exert an impact, to elicit a bit of sympathy from me. In the beginning of our relationship, there had been an implicit understanding that I would rescue him from his depression. Now, I was breaking the silent pact; I was saving myself instead. After many tears and four years of psychotherapy, I was no longer remotely interested in playing that role.

For the first time in my life, I was living on my own, with no roommate, no boyfriend, no husband, or parents. Whatever apprehensions I might have had initially about living alone, I found myself enjoying my freedom. I felt safe in my apartment. Washington Square Village was like a college dormitory with private apartments. Surrounded by university staff and faculty, I felt a part of a community. My office was around the corner, and classes were all within walking distance.

I began to date a college professor in the English department who also lived in the housing complex. I went out with other interesting men that I met in the course of my daily life. I was in no hurry to start a serious relationship; I had a lot of catching up to do. The 1960s had ushered in a sexual revolution that I had not been a part of, but now I was a single woman entering a new decade.

The course work toward my PhD was almost completed by that time, and I had begun working on a dissertation while still living with Mark. Now that I was on my own with less distractions, I was able to concentrate on finishing the work.

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