Games People Play_ The Psychology of Human Relationships - Eric Berne [26]
The psychological cure of an alcoholic also lies in getting him to stop playing the game altogether, rather than simply change from one role to another. In some cases this has been feasible, although it is a difficult task to find something else as interesting to the Alcoholic as continuing his game. Since he is classically afraid of intimacy, the substitute may have to be another game rather than a game-free relationship. Often so-called cured alcoholics are not very stimulating company socially, and possibly they feel a lack of excitement in their lives and are continually tempted to go back to their old ways. The criterion of a true ‘game cure’ is that the former Alcoholic should be able to drink socially without putting himself in jeopardy. The usual ‘total abstinence’ cure will not satisfy the game analyst.
It is apparent from the description of this game that there is a strong temptation for the Rescuer to play ‘I’m Only Trying to Help You’; for the Persecutor to play ‘Look What You’ve Done to Me’; and for the Patsy* to play ‘Good Joe’. With the rise of rescue organizations which publicize the idea that alcoholism is a disease, alcoholics have been taught to play ‘Wooden Leg’. The law, which takes a special interest in such people, tends to encourage this nowadays. The emphasis has shifted from the Persecutor to the Rescuer, from ‘I am a sinner’ to ‘What do you expect from a sick man?’ (part of the trend in modern thinking away from religion and towards science). From an existential point of view the shift is questionable, and from a practical point of view it seems to have done little to diminish the sale of liquor to heavy drinkers. Nevertheless, Alcoholics Anonymous is still for most people the best initiation into the therapy of over-indulgence.
Antithesis. As is well known, ‘Alcoholic’ is usually played hard and is difficult to give up. In one case a female alcoholic in a therapy group participated very little until she thought she knew enough about the other members to go ahead with her game. She then asked them to tell her what they thought of her. Since she had behaved pleasantly enough, various members said nice things about her, but she protested: ‘That’s not what I want. I want to know what you really think.’ She made it clear that she was seeking derogatory comments. The other women refused to persecute her, whereupon she went home and told her husband that if she took another drink, he must either divorce her or send her to a hospital. He promised to do this, and that evening she became intoxicated and he sent her to a sanitarium. Here the other members refused to play the persecutory roles White assigned to them; she was unable to tolerate this antithetical behaviour, in spite of everyone’s efforts to reinforce whatever insight she had already obtained. At home she found someone who was willing to play the role she demanded.
In other cases, however, it appears possible to prepare the patient sufficiently so that the game can be given up, and to attempt a true social cure in which the therapist declines to play either Persecutor or Rescuer. It is equally untherapeutic for him to play the role of Patsy by allowing the patient to forgo his financial and punctuality obligations. The correct therapeutic procedure from a transactional point of view is, after careful preliminary groundwork, to take an Adult contractual position and refuse to play any of the roles, hoping that the patient will be able to tolerate not only abstinence from drinking but also from playing his game. If he cannot, he is best referred to a Rescuer.
Antithesis is particularly difficult, because the heavy drinker is highly regarded in most Western countries as a desirable object for censure, concern or generosity, and