Chapter 20 - A Conversation with Burnside
Wendy's disappointment with not having been punished at the Halloween Party intensified throughout the first two weeks of November. Perhaps Amy and Paul did not need to be punished, but she did. Wendy increasingly became convinced that an intense punishment experience was what she needed to get over her problems with gambling. She realized that she could not talk to either Amy or Suzanne about what was going on inside her head. They would not understand. Finally she decided to talk directly to Dr. Burnside.
In the middle of November Wendy went to Burnside's house with a copy of her book, "Wendy". Her heart pounding, she rang the professor's doorbell. It was strange to see Burnside opening the door dressed in a simple sweatsuit, instead of a business outfit or a fetish outfit. Yes, even Ruth Burnside wore sweats.
Burnside was working on some lesson plans, but she was not really rushed, so there was some time for her to sit with Wendy and look at her book. Wendy was so nervous she barely could speak. She could not look her former professor in the face. At first Burnside was totally perplexed as to why Wendy had come to her house. She could tell that Wendy was not too sure herself. However, she was polite to Wendy. She invited her in and offered her some tea.
Wendy sat down. She looked at Burnside nervously. Her hands shook as she gripped her book. It was the professor who began.
"Wendy, from the looks of you I'm going to guess there is something in your life that you are having a lot of problems with. I'm going to guess that you expect me to help you. I hope it's not something with your studies, since you're not my student."
Wendy nervously shook her head. Finally she held out the book to her hostess. Burnside took it, read the back cover, and thumbed through it. Immediately it captured her attention. Burnside thumbed back to the beginning of the book and read the introduction. She skimmed over the essays and again looked at the pictures. The issue Wendy was dealing with was clear enough. The fact that Wendy had come to her for help also was clear enough. What Burnside was not sure about was how to help Wendy. She looked over the pages trying to figure out what was going on in Wendy's head and what she wanted. That was hard, since Wendy did not know herself what she wanted.
Burnside studied Wendy's drawings for their artistic merit. They were extremely good. Some of the images aroused Burnside. Every so often Burnside looked up at the artist, who was fidgeting nervously. Finally Burnside decided to get some more answers from Wendy.
"Your work is very good. I'll be honest and tell you that your pictures excite even me. But I need to know why you're showing me this book."
"I...I don't really know. I...need help. I don't know what to do. This...thing in me..."
"Wendy, let's get something straight. There is no "thing" inside you. You gamble because you want to. The issue you face is not getting rid of a 'thing'. The issue is convincing yourself that you don't want to gamble anymore. What you're dealing with is not a chemical dependency, and you'd better stop thinking of it like that."
"Dr. Burnside, my counselor says that..."
"Bullshit. What you do is because it's what you want to do. There is no 'thing'. Now, what do you want from me?"
Wendy fidgeted. She looked at the floor. She couldn't answer because she still did not know.
"Let's get something else straight. I don't like people who look away during a conversation. You look at me."
Reluctantly Wendy looked up. Her eyes met Burnside's.
"Now answer. What do you want?"
Wendy shook with fear. Her voice was barely audible.
"Dr. Burnside, this past Spring I gambled $ 60,000 dollars. I want...I need..."
"Come on, Wendy, out with it. You need to say whatever it is that you want to tell me."
"I need to be punished. I need to suffer. I need to pay for my stupidity...with real pain.."
"And so you are asking that from me..."
Wendy nodded her head. Burnside's lips tightened.
"Wendy, you don't nod when I ask you a question. Now, answer it properly."
"I...I want you to whip me. Like in my drawings."
"Whip you? Why? What good do you think that's going to do you?"
"I...I don't know. I...just want it to stop. I want it all to stop."
"What to stop, Wendy? I'm not going to try to guess what's going on in that brain of yours. So let's hear it."
Suddenly Wendy broke down crying.
"I hate my life! I can't stand myself! Those pictures...that's what I want to happen to me! And no one gets it, no one understands...not even you! I thought...you'd understand...but you don't!"
As Wendy buried her face in her hands, Burnside suddenly was faced with a dilemma. The girl was asking her for help. The professor took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to deal with this huge burden that suddenly had been thrust upon her.
Burnside was not a subtle or gentile person. She was not one to sit with Wendy and hold her hand and try to comfort her. Burnside suspected that Amy and Suzanne must have spent the entire year trying to comfort Wendy, to no avail. It was apparent that she had been receiving counseling, but that wasn't working either. Wendy did not need to be comforted; what she needed was quite the opposite.
"Wendy, sit up! Get your hands off your face and sit the fuck up!"
Wendy was surprised as being spoken to so harshly. She complied, although tears continued to stream down her face.
"Now, we need to get a few things straight! Don't tell me that I'm the one who doesn't understand, because it's YOU! You're the one who doesn't understand! You don't understand a god-damned thing about who I am or why I do what I do! And something else. You say that you want to be punished like in your drawings. It's obvious you don't know what you're talking about! There's no way I'd go that far with anyone, even if they asked me to! I'm not into punishing people to the point I have to pay their hospital bills! Your drawings are excellent, but they're not real! It's obvious you can't separate fantasy from reality if you think you could endure what's in your drawings!"
Wendy sat silently, shaking slightly. Suddenly, Burnside realized something that alarmed her. Wendy was in very serious psychological trouble, something that went way beyond a simple addiction to gambling. Burnside wondered if perhaps she was only days away from committing suicide. There was only one way to find out, and that was to ask her quickly and directly, extracting the truth before the student had time to think of an evasive answer. Burnside drew a quick breath.
"OK, a quick question. Are you, right now, thinking about committing suicide?"
Wendy sat silent.
"I asked you a question. Are you thinking about committing suicide?"
"Yes."
"And how are you planning to do it?"
"I thought about cutting my throat."
"With what? What are you planning to use?"
"My fantasy was one of those old straight edge razors, but I don't know where to get one. So, I...I have this Swiss Army knife with a real sharp blade."
"You gave it some thought, then, method and instrument. Got it all figured out."
Wendy looked at the floor. "Yes, Dr. Burnside. I've been thinking about it."
Burnside stood up.