The Sullivanians:Through a Blue Window ((c) 2019 shelley feinerman's Podcast
CULT! This podcast chronicles the rise and fall of the Sullivanian Institute and its members. The psycho-sexual therapy] and institute existed on Manhattan's Upper West Side from the 1970s through the 1990s. Directed to abandon family and friends, as we all were, after five years my life was inextricably altered. The podcast begins with my childhood, then goes on to my time in the Sullivanians, and 20 years later, its self-destruction when it was characterized as a cult. It is entitled Through a Blue Window: The Sullivanians and is dedicated to mother, Ruth.
The Sullivanians:Through a Blue Window ((c) 2019 shelley feinerman's Podcast
The Sullivan Institute: The Fourth Wall, Dark Deception and Betrayal
In the five years I'd been in the group, its ranks swelled and the group with its emphasis on artistic endeavors that were once revered merged with the authoritarian cult-like Fourth Wall with its many directives and shifting focus. The shift coincided with Lein's marriage to his second wife a soap opera actress and aspiring stage director. It was her idea to merge the two.
The Fourth Wall subsumed personal identities into the group's collective thinking. Membership was mandatory along with monthly dues and other burgeoning monetary costs. Annie, Stan, and Ollie betrayed me and after the summer my friendship with Annie disintegrated.
Listen to this episode to learn more about how Annie forced me from the apartment and the bizarre twist Stan threw my way the week after I'd moved out.
Had I lost my individuality? After five years, I was left with two choices: I could start over alone or stay and exist on the fringe
The complete documentary Through a BlueWindow can be seen on my youtube channel shellfein1. I would love to hear your thoughts.
Thank you
amongst the berries stillness of a broken cord. Love wandered away. Sexual availability in the group was a powerful lure. It came without restriction or judgment, and ollie had not been immune. He continued to see bernadette and our relationship morphed into the Sullivan way of dating. I had no one to confide in and Stan sounded like a robot. No matter what I said, it was always Sullivanian psychobabble jargon. In reply, the group had mutated into a parasitic entity where personal identity was subsumed by mereditary involvement in the fourth wall. That in turn fed off the energy of its members to propagate Joan Harvey's overriding narcissistic agenda. All of this was far and away from what had originally appealed to me in the early 1970s, when pursuing creative desires would tout amount to the Sullivanian philosophy higher paying jobs in the tech industry because they were expected to pay a membership fee to the fourth wall, monthly dues and additional assessments for the repair and maintenance of the newly acquired upstate camp, as well as continuing two therapy sessions per week.
Speaker 1:After the summer, annie and I had stopped dating and kept our distance from each other around the apartment until the night she came to my room after I'd gotten home from school. I've been waiting for you. She began not stepping inside. I've called for an emergency house meeting tomorrow night and you should know I'm going to be asking the apartment to ask you to leave. And then she turned on her heel and left. I was stunned. I had felt her animus and sensed something brewing for several months, but I hadn't realized things between Annie and I had gone this far. I called Stan, but he seemed as surprised as I was and could offer little help.
Speaker 1:After a fitful night of little or no sleep, replaying Annie's announcement in my head and finding no comfort in the cold, sun-drenched room, I dressed quickly and made my way down the narrow hallway to the kitchen. Annie, wearing red shorts and running shoes, was in a heated discussion with Sandra that entered. When I entered the room, I poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot resting on the stovetop, then sat down at the kitchen table, catching a glimpse of Annie over the rim of my cup. I tried to remember the guileless woman I'd once thought of as a younger sister. That person was gone. The curves of her body had been exercised into sinewy hardness and the softness of her face had been replaced by a mask of righteous indignation the look I'd first seen when she had interrogated Serena about her dating habits and most recently, when she'd banished Sandra from the summer house In her obsession to maintain her flat washboard abs, annie had developed a nervous tick of sorts.
Speaker 1:She would drop her hand palm to her stomach as though she was hitching up her pants, but in reality she was checking that her stomach hadn't suddenly ballooned. And she repeated that motion again and again. We went our separate ways and at eleven p m, at the end of a long day, we gathered in the kitchen again to begin the house-meeting. Annie was practically foaming at the mouth and got right into it. Ask Cora to leave. You can either vote yes or no, based on my request. Beverly said I could do this and I am doing it this way. That's all I'm going to say, except to ask the apartment to vote.
Speaker 1:I was more than familiar with the practice of invoking your therapist in lieu of an explanation, of invoking your therapist in lieu of an explanation. Jackson was the first, but there had been many others over the years. It was humiliating. Humiliation was something the Sullivanian's guiding principles embraced. Though I'd spoken to Stan, I felt incapable of making an effective appeal on my behalf.
Speaker 1:After five years, I was alone inside the group and outside mainstream society. I couldn't imagine what a discernible path back would consist of. I was falling down a rabbit hole, but, unlike Alice, this was not a dream I would wake up from, but a nightmare that would only end when I left. Annie was relentless and would not relinquish her position and, unbeknownst to me, she'd formed an unlikely alliance with Sandra that left Joanne with the deciding vote. The more she quoted Beverly, the angrier I got, until I finally found my voice. Look, annie, what I'm about to say is not a defense, but an explanation of events that you may not understand.
Speaker 1:After my mother died and Maria left, I felt unmoored. Grad school was at night, so I needed a day job. I was hired at Reliable Lists, and then came the union, the strike and Ollie. I didn't seek any of it out. Yes, I chose the union over the fourth wall, but both are political and I had my therapist's approval too. And as far as Ollie is concerned, you've all been in a focus at one time or another, even you, annie. My relationship with him isn't that unusual, and now we're not even exclusive.
Speaker 1:Can't we put this off for a while? Joanne backed me at first and said to Annie we need to let her speak. This doesn't seem right to me. No, we are not putting this off, annie repeated. I was in her crosshairs and she shot me a look of contempt, like an arrow bringing down a buck. Beverly said I can do it this way. Stop fucking repeating that. Who are you or your therapist, to judge whether I am not good for the group? In my opinion, this is as much about your mother becoming part of the group and moving into an apartment as it is about me. You've changed too. You know we should be talking about that. But if you're all going to allow yourselves to be bullied by Annie, go ahead, vote, but I won't sit here while you debate my fate. I blurted out, pushing myself away from the table. I'll be at Ollie's. You can call me there with your decision. Then I walked out of the kitchen. Joanne called at three in the morning. It was unanimous. She said I'm sorry, you have a week to move. The prisoner was guilty. No reason was given. She was transported to the gulag.
Speaker 1:A new group apartment had formed on the 12th floor of our apartment building and they were looking for people Coming together. As it did in the middle of winter, the apartment hadn't attracted the cream of the Sullivanian crop. The women were a mismatched assortment. There was another disillusioned true believer like myself, two fringe members and one woman new to the therapy who didn't know what was going on. And as for me, it was my only option.
Speaker 1:In a bizarre twist, the week after I'd moved up, stan's Stan asked me if I still wanted to live in my old apartment, because if I did, I should call the apartment and ask for a house meeting demanding that I be allowed to move back in. You see, he explained. Annie had bullied everyone To this day. I don't know what held me to the chair Shock, disbelief, betrayal Because at the time, every impulse I had was urging me to grab Stan by his bony shoulders and shake him until he fell apart.
Speaker 1:Cora, did you hear me? What? Oh, yes, I fucking heard you. Stan. Annie's a bully and I was right. Don't you think it's a little late, for God's sakes? You told me she was right about everything. You ordered me to take Ollie to a group party, and you know how that turned out.
Speaker 1:How the hell do I call for a house meeting where I don't live? Whose great idea was this anyway? Weren't they listening to you in supervision these past few months, or maybe you missed a few sessions yourself. I told you Annie was being a bully from the start, but you took her side. You're my therapist. You were supposed to support me, not her. You sound angry how perceptive of you, stan. But you know, I'm not angry, I'm furious. And hold on a minute. I just realized that this is perfect because Annie did me a favor. I don't want to live with her anymore either. It was the idea of the apartment when Lainey and Maria were there and when Annie wasn't a zealot and we were friends that I wanted, and thanks to her and you, I'm not even sure I want to be in therapy anymore. It had taken years for me to trust someone outside the group, and now, at 30 years old, I had two choices I could start over alone or stay and exist on the fringe.