The old Waldorf, New York City, and a childhood spent behind a "satin upholstered wall" of excessive money. Gert B. recalls a life where wealth acted as a barrier against reality, leaving her a "wholesome" girl caught between a brilliant father and a beautiful mother. She describes a trajectory of wreckage: three failed marriages, a descent into obsessive drinking, and a cocktail of Benzedrine and sleeping pills. She views her former self as a Siamese twin that had to die so she could live.
The turning point came not from a psychiatrist, but from a realization that she needed a Higher Power to act as a "porter" for suitcases too heavy to carry. After a near-fatal suicide attempt and a spiritual "shower bath," she traded her Lincoln Continental for a life of service. Now, she lives in a small house with studio couches, treating her remaining resources as bricks to build a shrine rather than weapons to slug people to death.
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