1965, Miami, Everglades
Six-year-old Steven Miller was considered developmentally delayed in daycare. He managed tasks involving intellect reasonably well but struggled to work in teams, didn't make friends, and was frequently ill. Moreover, he had a habit of wetting his pants, leading daycare staff to ask for spare clothes. The caregivers believed Steven wasn't ready for school yet. However, his father seemed determined to mold him into a superhuman, while Lauren, a small, unremarkable woman with a distant look, appeared disinterested in her child's life. She would listen to everything said about Steven, sigh heavily, and start reciting his medical history, listing nearly every childhood ailment known. Then Lauren would thank the caregivers and take the child home. What stood out was that Steven no longer seemed happy when his parents arrived. When his mother entered the playroom with a fake smile, he would pretend to be engrossed in building blocks. That evening, Lauren and her son returned home just as the family's father had finished a bottle of vodka prepared by his wife that morning and was already snoring on the worn-out sofa. Such incidents occurred about once every two to three months now. Daniel Miller was one of those quiet alcoholics who didn't cause trouble for anyone except his family. Lauren breathed a sigh of relief seeing her husband peacefully asleep and went to the kitchen to feed her son dinner. As usual in these situations, she turned on the radio, filling the kitchen with a steady stream of incomprehensible words for the child. She filled the plates with food and then went to the hallway, grabbed the shameful bag of daycare items, threw a reproachful glance at her son, and started washing. Steven feared these maternal glances more than any physical punishment, but the more he feared them, the more often Lauren returned with soiled clothes."
In the evening, instead of a regular sheet, Lauren spread a plastic sheet on Steven's bed. They did the same thing at daycare, and it was perceived as the ultimate form of humiliation.
"You'll sleep like this from now on. I'm tired of washing sheets three times a week," she announced with poorly concealed irritation.
Steven climbed under the blanket and buried his face in the pillow. The plastic sheet rustled unpleasantly beneath him.
Around three in the morning, a loud crash echoed through the small apartment with its cardboard partitions. Daniel Miller woke up from his alcoholic stupor and, struggling with himself, crawled to the bathroom. Entering the bathroom, he knocked over recently washed children's clothes with his head. Seeing children's tights and underwear fallen from the clothesline, the man immediately understood what had happened and flew into a rage. The next moment, he burst into the children's room, tore the blanket off Steven, and roared:
"I'll teach you how to behave! I'll teach you! Are you a wimp or a man? Are you a wimp or a man?! Answer me!"
Steven watched in horror as the looming monster with his father's appearance stripped off his workout pants to teach him something. The monster smelled terrible, his face contorted in a vicious grimace. The enraged father began to slap the boy's cheeks, trying to get his attention, but each of these blows literally knocked the boy out.
"You have to answer for weakness! I'll teach you what it means to answer for weakness..." Steven didn't notice when the next "accident" happened; he only felt the plastic sheet gradually warming beneath him. Daniel Miller saw a growing puddle in the center of the bed and grimaced with disgust. This feeling was so strong that it sobered him up. Instantly, a heavy hangover hit him. He gave a disdainful look to his son, spat on the floor, and left the room. This time, Lauren either didn't wake up or didn't want to admit to herself that she wasn't sleeping.
The question of childhood enuresis was considered within the realm of developmental psychology, and sometimes it was suggested to study it within the framework of pedagogy. The causes of this problem, if studied at all, were only from a physiological perspective. In the USA, even at that time, a certain correlation between enuresis and sociopathy was noticed, and in 1963, an article was published about the so-called Macdonald triad. According to this theory, enuresis, zoosadism, and pyromania indicate a predisposition to committing crimes. However, the cause and effect were later reversed. Enuresis usually arises from feelings of shame and guilt, it's a kind of psychic spasm. The child is so afraid of being humiliated that they regularly wet themselves, each time experiencing greater trauma. This is the basis for developing sociopathy, which implies an increased risk of committing crimes.
A few days later, everything returned to its usual routine. Daniel Miller started leaving for work in the mornings and wandered around the apartment in the evenings, searching for flaws. He could spend hours watching his wife clean the house, only to suddenly redo everything, criticizing every action she took. The same happened with cooking, laundry, or preparing homework for the daycare group. Daniel never raised his voice when sober. He would methodically repeat the same things, telling Lauren that she closed the jars of pickles incorrectly, didn't dust properly, or cooked dinner the wrong way. He was the only one who knew exactly how things should be done. Sooner or later, Lauren would explode, and the rest of the evening turned into a parody of a quarrel. Their arguments never escalated to shouting, but they could spend hours exchanging caustic comments and insults, then fall silent for a day or even a week. The woman considered her son insufficiently mature for conversation, so during these periods, an almost absolute silence reigned in the apartment, interrupted only by the sounds of the radio or television.
On Saturday evening, the national channel aired documentaries about the Great Patriotic War. These moments were Steven's favorite. Daniel never missed such programs. He would always settle in front of the bulky color television in advance, watch the news, and then immerse himself in the host's stories about horrific torture in concentration camps or complex military operations. Lauren would settle in her chair and engage in handicrafts, embroidering another picture. Steven was allowed to sit on the floor near his father's feet. After all, what harm could there be in a child learning history from an early age?
Steven wasn't interested in descriptions of military strategies but was always captivated by stories of torture in death camps. Distorted faces filled with pain, fear, and despair appeared on the screen. He absorbed the emotions of these people, eagerly following their stories. In everyday life, he didn't see any expressions of feelings. Lauren always wore a mournful mask of indifference, while Daniel had a contemptuous smirk. Loud laughter or sobbing were not accepted in their family. After all, what would the neighbors think? They lived in a respectable house, next to professors and factory directors. Only occasionally, during binges, did Daniel transform. In those moments, Steven watched his father's face contort with malicious anger. He had seen similar grimaces in movies about torture in concentration camps. These emotions were familiar to Steven; he recognized and understood them. Over time, they began to interest him more and more. Soon, the boy eagerly anticipated scenes of suffering in any movie and was very disappointed if there were no such episodes.
"I liked movies about World War II; I watched many documentaries about concentration camps since childhood. Perhaps that's the reason. It made me like this, although Daniel believed that these programs were useful and informative."
Several months later, Steven Miller was supposed to start school. The daycare gave him an unfavorable evaluation, suggesting that the child could be developmentally delayed. However, miraculously, Steven successfully completed all tasks during the entrance interview, and soon he was enrolled in the first grade of Everglades Park Elementary School. It was considered one of the best not only in the area but also in the region. Steven got into this school simply because he attended the daycare associated with it. The principal would have needed substantial reasons to deny admission to a child. That year, there was a shortage of students, so they decided not to look for a black cat in a dark room and admitted Steven to the first grade.
There remained one major problem: his enuresis not only didn't go away but worsened. Up until the age of three, the situation seemed more or less typical, but then the boy started wetting the bed with alarming regularity. It's not customary to interrupt the school day for a nap, but at a certain point, Steven began to have "incidents" in various situations, not always critical. He could easily wet himself if he heard loud laughter or shouting nearby, doing so when too much attention was directed towards him. It's a miracle that he didn't wet himself during the entrance interview.
During testing, three unfamiliar women endlessly demanded him to arrange pictures in the correct order, count sticks, or read a poem syllable by syllable. Additionally, his mother was sitting behind him. She showed no emotions, didn't try to help him by suggesting the correct answers, as other mothers often did. She simply watched how her son coped with the tasks. Lauren seemed to be waiting for his failure, and when it was all over, she appeared too disappointed for the mother of a future first-grader at an elite math-oriented school.
Upon returning home, Steven almost immediately fell asleep, ignoring the humiliating conversations and the rustle of plastic in the house.
"How did he manage that? I was sure he wouldn't cope with any task. You know how he usually freezes up? I hope he doesn't wet himself in class now, or they might expel him," murmured the mother quietly.
"What a strange problem. He knows where the toilet is and how to use it," the father objected irritably.
"It's called urinary incontinence because the urine doesn't stay in the body."
"He needs to learn to control it. It's all because he doesn't do enough sports. He sits inside all day, that's why he's so weak. He needs toughening up. Did you rearrange the cups? Who does that? I told you they should be facing handle-forward…"
"Maybe," the woman replied quietly, clearly holding back irritation.
That night, Steven slept peacefully. His father had recently come out of a binge. In the first couple of weeks after that, he consistently felt guilty towards his family and behaved calmer than usual, occasionally giving gifts and presenting flowers to his wife. Steven loved such days. He could ask for a few extra minutes in front of the TV or sometimes even borrow a book from his father's library. Mostly, there were dull editions about pirates or travels, without pictures and with lots of text per page. Steven wasn't able to read them yet, but he still enjoyed it when his father solemnly handed him one of those books.
"Get up!" The father's shout pierced my consciousness, tearing apart my sleep. It usually happened when my father had been drinking, but this wasn't one of those times...
With force, the man pulled me out of bed and ordered me to go to the bathroom. Still half-asleep and not understanding anything, I obeyed. My father followed me into the bathroom and demanded that I undress and stand in the bathtub. Moments later, he turned on the cold water tap. Drenched in cold water, I froze. But my father didn't stop, turning the tap to the maximum.
This nightmare repeated almost every day. I began to hate these drenchings, along with the morning wake-ups and school itself, which now caused me so much suffering.
Father made me pour cold water over myself in the bathtub. It was a very unpleasant feeling. Eventually, my mother forbade him from doing it, but since then, I dislike water procedures, avoid bathing altogether, and even started avoiding taking showers. What if they turn on the cold water again, do you understand?
From Steven Miller's testimony:
Shame and humiliation became the basis of his relationships with others. Any contact could end in disgrace, eliciting anger and disgust. These emotions he recognized in others and in himself. Feelings of joy and admiration existed but were overshadowed by anger and disgust. His own unpleasant emotions and his parents' resentment towards his condition evoked the same feelings in those around him. This was incomprehensible and hurtful. A person needs recognition of their existence and role in the group. Being rejected is terrifying, even more so than death. However, rejection sometimes seems like a better option than being unnoticed. In Steven's opinion, scolding is better than being ignored because at least it means someone is paying attention. This explains his desire to attract attention through tantrums and negative behavior. He was willing to endure humiliation just to be noticed.