Saving Cindy
A Psychiatrist Looks at Cults & Their Victims
by Peter A. Olsson
Cindy (not her real name) was nineteen and a sophomore at college when her parents sought consultation with me. She had decided to stay on her college campus in a distant city, telling her parents that this would allow her to finish a term paper and save the airfare for some new clothes. Her parents were pleased by this decision. During her freshman year Cindy had episodes of intense homesickness, wrote several lengthy, lonely-sounding letters home each week, and called home weekly asking for letters and calls from her older siblings. By the second semester the homesickness attacks were less frequent, she had made a couple of new friends, was making As and Bs, and had gotten a part-time job at the student union. Her older brother had commented, “The little kid is growing up at last.”
Her parents grew mildly concerned when they heard nothing from Cindy during spring break. Finally they spoke to a suite-mate who told them she was worried because Cindy had joined a group called “the Family.” She had been going to nightly lectures and weekend group retreats. Her suite-mate said, “Cindy has lost weight and acts real spacey sometimes. I hear that ‘the Family’ says that to associate with your family and their church is ‘like eating your own vomit!’ That’s weird.”
Cindy refused to talk to her parents on the phone, telling her suite-mate to tell her parents that she was really independent now and was very happy with her new projects. Her parents grew very concerned when they learned that Cindy had quit her job at the student union, had moved into a “free dorm” owned by “the Family,” and had dropped to Cs and Ds in her grades the next semester. She was apparently working at “the Family’s” recycling center and was gone every weekend. During rare phone contacts with Cindy—when her cult dorm counselor would let her talk to her parents—Cindy sounded tired, detached, aloof, vaguely hostile, and inappropriately cheery—“in a surface way.” She wrote a terse letter to her parents telling them that she was staying at school for the summer.
When I heard this, I advised Cindy’s father to visit her immediately. What he found was alarming. She had lost twenty pounds and had a peculiar detached but smiling facial expression. She stared at her dad’s forehead, talked about “universal Christian love sources,” and spoke with pride about being selected to cook and baby-sit for “the Family’s” leader. Cindy’s father was never permitted to be alone with her at the “Family” dorm. There were always “counselors” around, and a boyfriend had been specially chosen for her by the leader. Cindy and her cult friends frequently chanted, sang “Family songs,” and danced or rocked rhythmically back and forth.
When Cindy’s father called the cult’s office, he was informed that they had no board, no CEO, no bishop, no records, and only a “spiritual leadership.” He was told that as an outsider, he should have no concerns about his daughter, who had freely chosen to join their group. Cindy’s former roommate told her dad that she had heard from another student that Cindy and others went to group confessions where they confessed “sins of the flesh,” sang, danced, and participated in group trances until the early morning hours. Cindy and her boyfriend slept on mats at the cult office so they would be able to do cult work whenever needed. When her father confronted Cindy, she told him, “We are only flesh relations now—not family any more.”
Cindy’s cult-chosen boyfriend called her father a “suppressive” and asked him to leave their “family home.” Cindy refused to go home with her father, and a young cult attorney advised her father not to interfere with her civil rights. He returned home a shaken man. We had an emergency family session where Cindy’s older brother came up with a plan. Her mother called her and lied. She told Cindy that her beloved grandmother was very ill and wanted to see her. At first Cindy refused, but she changed her mind when told that Grandma was near death.
When Cindy’s flight arrived at the hometown airport, a large group of high-school and church friends were there with her family to greet her. Her boyfriend and a “counselor,” who had flown in with her, were told they were not welcome to this homecoming party. Cindy cried and her boyfriend protested, but confronted with the large number of supporters, he retreated to a phone to call the distant cult leaders.
Cindy was naturally angry and confused when she found out that we had tricked her. At my recommendation, there were at least three friends or family members with her at all times for the first three months after her return home. We had two family sessions weekly for the first two months, and I saw Cindy twice weekly for individual therapy. With my support, the family was able to listen in great detail to the astounding story of Cindy’s indoctrination into “the Family” without attacking her or the cult that she had loved and idealized.
At her individual sessions she alternated between rage at me and awe of me. I helped her see this transference reaction towards me as a reflection of her true feelings towards guru Smith of “the Family.” Soon she was able to tell me how much I resembled him. Brother Smith had a red beard like mine. He was gentle, persuasive, charismatic, and had detailed knowledge of the Bible. Cindy’s clergyman was included in several sessions and was very helpful in the process of her therapy because he could calmly confront Smith’s distortions of Christian theology. Cindy required antidepressant medication for the first nine months of therapy.
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