Some things personal, some things good for you,
and some overall great things.
What’s Your Version of Things?* Aka Mentalization
In sessions, my clients and I often wonder why people do what they do. As the psychology saying goes, we can’t work on anyone who’s not in the therapy room, so we stick to our client’s stuff as much as possible.
But inevitably, we also try to decipher others’ actions, reactions, motivations, intentions, you name it. This way, we can predict the client’s world when they step back into it, so they can better design their side of communications and relationships. Therapy is a place to practice how to be in real life.
A regular barrier we encounter has to do with something called mentalization: the ability to understand others’ mental states. It allows us to realize that even our closest loved ones have feelings, needs, beliefs, and reasons that might be different than ours. I like the coined phrase that mentalization is “understanding misunderstanding.” Clients often practice their own mentalizing in the therapy room, but might also wish others would mentalize with them more: listen, have more patience, and understand their points of view.
We aren’t born mentalizing, and it’s not easy for some people to develop or maintain. Some things get in the way of mentalizing:
Early attachment strains. Attachment is how children bond with caregivers, then how they see themselves and treat others based on this early learning. If caregivers neglect, abuse, or even just fail to mentalize with their child (see their child as their own being, reflect their child’s unique needs, feelings, and traits), the child might later struggle mentalizing with others.
People are less likely to effectively mentalize when they are stressed out. Mentalizing is weakened by intense emotion. Sometimes we are surprised, confused, or hurt when someone we care about (and expect more from) doesn’t have the bandwidth to see our point of view. They might be going through something hard.
Historically, the lack of ability to mentalize can also be associated with the autism spectrum (ASD). There are caveats to this, but to oversimplify, trouble with mentalizing (aka Theory of Mind) can be a trait of autism. For example, autistic children are less likely to point to an airplane or a balloon to get their parent’s attention; they don’t try to share the joyful experience because they don’t realize that the parent has a separate mind than their own. Remember, autism is a spectrum, and not mentalizing might be a subtle trait of a high-functioning person with ASD. That said, some people with ASD learn about mentalizing and actively work to develop it, such as asking questions about other’s experiences and methodically attending to loved one’s needs and perspectives, as well or better (although less intuitively) than their non-ASD counterparts.
If you think about it logically, narcissists and other people with personality disorders are less likely to think about others’ positions and are more interested in others agreeing with their own. In fact, they might be good at mentalizing, but also good at minimizing or even exploiting others’ positions and perspectives. Personality disorders are a big, messy category, so I’m oversimplifying and generalizing here, but this is just a blog post, after all.
To further dilute things, really anyone with defense mechanisms might struggle with or even choose not to understand misunderstandings if it suits their defenses in moments of stubbornness or blind sightedness, and that includes… everyone.
This many bullet points really add up, amounting to frequent disappointment, frustration, and despair my clients often experience. I offer two morals:
1. Mentalize as much as you can and find fulfilling relationships with others that do the same (aka your new crush that doesn’t ask about your feelings = RED flag).
2. Recognize when you or others are struggling to mentalize; develop an action plan. Another, more thoughtful conversation? Acceptance, or maybe forgiveness of stressful circumstances? Identifying unhealthy patterns or dead-end relationships?
Being a person is hard; being understood and understanding others is our best hope. Let’s keep up the work!
*Groove Armada song reference :)
Why are Psychologists So Boring?
I could think of a better title, and, as you will see, I needn't over-generalize. But it makes a good title so let’s go with it. A few theories of why psychologists are boring:
We think too much about behavior. We know that it’s ok to be interesting, but not too interesting (then it’s a symptom). Spontaneous becomes impulsive. Quirky becomes odd. Creative eventually leaves the box. Must stay in the box.
We can’t talk about the most thought-provoking, dynamic people and stories of our workday, our clients. When my husband or kids asks me about my day, I say it was good, and then we talk about their days.
Psychologists often operate in a vacuum. Even when we welcome it, clients rarely give us feedback. We have colleagues and sometimes consultation, but we almost never practice together. We spend most of the day in silos of our own concepts, communication styles, and habits. But in fact, it’s others’ observations, reactions, and challenges that often invite and even require people to think and grow. Psychologists can stagnate.
Maybe as a rule, psychologists are more listeners/observers than performers. We aren’t necessarily the life of the party, and at least we aren’t narcissistic (although one slips in here and there). In the therapy room, we are supposed to be a “blank slate” so it’s all about you. Psychologists try to remain consistent and predictable. Heck, I haven’t even changed my haircut in 20 years. I don’t even know if I want to change my hair. I just think about what my clients have come to expect.
When I was young, I was a little wild. I didn’t care what anyone thought of me, but I quickly learned the rules when I became a psychologist. I once asked a supervisor how to act in public given that clients might run into me out of the office. A friend and I had been (insert silly behavior) in a parking lot. She told me not to act silly. Touché.
I hope as psychologists we might evolve from not boring (just people) to boring (professional) to not boring again, as we grow up. Life is for living! Fluid intelligence must flow! Fellow psychologists: push those comfort zone edges. Actively seek deep, reciprocal, surprising, unexpected connections, especially with interesting people (for the record, I recently went to a super fun and very interesting dinner party with psychologists). Read surprising books, have cool hobbies. Wear something funky. See strange art. Have a hype song. Although we might not share the details with our clients or in parking lots, we are better therapists for it, too.
Transcendence Made (somewhat) Easy
You may be familiar with Abraham Maslow, especially his Hierarchy of Needs. Still, you should check out Transcend by Scott Barry Kaufman. It’s a deep dive into all things Maslow, from what he really meant to say (it was never a pyramid!) to what the science has proven about his ambitious theories. Then, to the point: what is self-actualization, and should it be our goal?
Yes, we need security: safety, connection, and self-esteem. From there, we can begin to grow; that is, to explore, love, and develop purpose. But how? Although a very personal and individual pursuit, growth and self-actualization contain some tangible, universal ideas.
Just a taste of what you might try:
Think of a time that you experienced true awe. Seek out more of this. Awe reflects an openness to experience. People who are open to new experiences are then more likely to experience love, creativity, and self-awareness. Openness fosters non-judgement, curiosity, and connection with community. These are the antidotes to loneliness, neuroticism, and over-comparison (familiar, anyone?).
Strive for growth, not happiness. Develop growth-oriented values: self-acceptance, intimacy, and community connections. This means working to ditch those stingy extrinsic, status-oriented values like money, image, and popularity. It turns out that status-oriented values only go so far. They not only don’t lead to happiness, but they ultimately distract and detract from growth. It’s ok to seek different values for different reasons at certain times. Just keep them in check! And work toward long-term, growth-oriented values along the way.
One of my favorite, simple take-aways from the research is this: wise people remain skeptical of their own views and are willing to self-reflect with compassion and humility. When we are unafraid of ourselves, we can stay curious about our feelings, actions, relationships, and lives. Pretty simple to say, but hard to do.
If you like to nerd out on this stuff, check out the book. Highly recommend (although I am one of those nerds).
Happiness Shmappiness
I am tired of the word happiness. Also, mindfulness. I’m even tired of gratitude (the practice is pretty great, but the specialty gratitude journals roll my eyes). Perhaps it’s post-pandemic skepticism. But even before a General Anxiety Disorder with features of Apocalyptic Pessimism took over society, these words were over-used and under-understood.
For example, what is happiness? Some great researchers suggest fulfillment as a more accurate word. But is it a feeling? A practice? Do we ever get there? Does it even matter, when there’s so much going on in the world that feels outside our control?
I think the answer has no choice but to be yes. Each person’s fulfillment is personal. Some of us really do need more gratitude, positivity, mindfulness, resilience, perspective, or all of the above. Some of us need to regulate our bodies. Some of us need to get to work or keep up the good work on our minds, hearts, relationships, and communities.
This is all to say, I might have rolled my eyes when my friend recommended the 10% Happier Podcast with Dan Harris. But I did NOT roll my skeptical eyes because this friend is a true warrior. She is as smart and knowledgeable as they come, and she’s been through some stuff.
She reminded me that, because Dan Harris is Dan Harris, he is a great interviewer who also knows everyone, so he gets the best of the best on his show.
I listen to a lot of podcasts that purposefully have nothing to do with psychology, just to balance things out a bit. But I am keeping this on rotation, for me and my clients alike. Some of my favorite titles include The Good News about Your Inevitable Decline and How to Argue Better. Check it out for yourself, and become just a little happier.
https://www.tenpercent.com/podcast
Ps. Speaking of mindfulness, Dan is a huge proponent of meditation, so you will hear a lot about that too. Don’t freak out about it, and maybe even give it a chance; he’s not wrong.
The Literature of Life
The Bellevue Literary Review
I was recently reminded of the Bellevue Literary Review, a publication out of the country’s oldest public hospital in Manhattan, which is also home to a rather famous and infamous psychiatric ward. 20 years ago, Dr. Danielle Ofri began the magazine as an antidote to medical students’ overly clinical descriptions of patients and symptoms. She noticed that patients might leave the hospital cured, but not always healed. Healing requires connecting to other humans, and storytelling is a natural and potent vehicle for that kind of connection. So she invited the staff and patients to make space for these stories, both in daily interactions and in print.
Language is one of our most essential tools for expressing ourselves. It makes meaning of our histories, our identities, our relationships, our society. Toddlers, overjoyed with the new skill, sometimes use as many as 11 new words a day! And it is nothing short of amazing to consider the countless interplay between words to describe our unique experiences.
The Bellevue Literary Review saw a spike in submissions during the pandemic, overflowing with creative interpretations of illness and health, suffering and growth. Whole issues are dedicated to themes such as COVID, family, racism, and recovery. You can always check out a few entries online, or buy individual issues. You’ll be laugh-crying in no time.
The Delicacy of Secrets
Delicacy: noun
1. fragility, the quality of involving great care or tact
2. requiring careful speech or action so as to avoid offense
3. a thing of sophistication or distinctiveness
I keep hearing ads for one of those online therapy services. The therapist boasts about what she calls “I’ve never told that to anybody!” moments, and I cringe each time. To be fair, she goes on to explain that self-disclosures reflect the client’s sense of safety in the relationship, and sharing with another person can be very powerful. Which is very true.
Still, it doesn’t sit right with me. It reminds me of a supervisor who coaxed us to get our clients to cry. It became a rite of passage- the first client-crying moment (followed by a whole debate over whether or not to pass the tissues, but I digress). Of course, these are honored and sacred moments, when a client feels they can be vulnerable in session. But that they have to cry? Some people cry a lot. Some people almost never cry. The goal of it seems a little… manipulative. Again, to be fair, the real lesson was to create and hold space for clients to open up, to feel things. In casual conversation, we don’t do that, but in therapy, we do. Sometimes a good cry is just what the doctor ordered.
Secrets are similarly delicate. Wegner once likened keeping secrets to keeping “an obsession in a jar.” Secrets serve many functions. Psychological functions, social functions. Protective functions. Therapy, when it works, might be just the right place to open up.
I recently heard Susan Burton talk about Empty, her memoir about her eating disorder. She wrote the book and was mid-publication when her therapist noticed with some alarm that she had never told anyone, not even her husband, about her decades-long eating disorder about which she was publishing a book. I think she hurried home and told her husband.
This evolved into a bigger conversation; now the book was about her eating disorder but also about secrets- why she had kept hers for so long, and why others do the same. Moved by her story, people called her to share their own, and it became a whole big thing (a podcast, probably). Many women reported spending years not talking about their disordered eating, even to their therapists.
This really struck me. I assume my clients don’t tell me everything. But I started to think more about why.
Just a few reasons not to tell:
Shame. Fearing that others don’t share your behaviors and experiences. Fearing you are the only one. Fearing you will be labelled (as shallow…sick…selfish…you name it). Fearing there might be a name for it. Fearing there isn’t a name for it. Believing it’s something you should be able to handle on your own. Not having the words to describe it. Not even realizing you are omitting things, perhaps the most important things. Minimizing.
Some good reasons to tell:
Being alone is worse than whatever you are hiding. Sometimes naming things helps to understand them. Some things are too hard to handle on your own. Sometimes the very most important thing is to work through shame and to have another person bear witness to just what it means to be a human being.
For Burton, her memoir-sized disclosure was not so much a decision but more like a frenzied urge driven by “desperation, obsession, anger…a longing to be known and understood.” Now, there’s your online therapy service advertisement.
In my practice, I always wonder, what am I missing? Am I asking the right questions? What if we are not talking about the thing that matters most? Maybe I can just slide in a “to be honest” moment here and there. To be honest, how much are you really drinking these days? To be honest, what’s the hardest part for you these days? To be honest, what else do I need to know to really help you?
When working with younger people (whose parents often wish to expose all of their dysfunctions, vices, and bad habits), I might say to them, I don’t need to know your secrets. I need to know what you think is important and what might improve your life. Of course, this applies to kids and adults alike. We can only ever help with what you decide to bring in the room. When you don’t bring it in, think about why, and when you feel safe enough, be sure to share yourself. We are all human, and we need each other to get by.
Ps. Then there are the secrets that belong to those around us, and that’s another story altogether. I stumbled on yet another mind-blowing podcast, Family Secrets, based on Dani Shapiro’s book of the same name. There you will find some real doozies! Along with more amazing discussion about the complexity and power of secrets:
The Storm
Wouldn’t you know it, we are still living in, and therefore thinking, writing, and worrying about Covid. All of this activity is essential. We have big problems to solve, communities to care for, losses to mourn. Writing a blog post seems trite. But here are a few words- just a check in.
I recently attended a lecture that began with a quote:
And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in.
-Haruki Murakami
What a good quote, for those of us fortunate enough to come out of this pandemic storm. But it also threw me viscerally back into another, personal storm- the big one- surviving Mike’s death. Honestly, after that, a pandemic seems like a surreal cake walk. I know, it’s relative. Pandemic definitely does not equal cake.
A friend, recently going through an especially hard time, kindly mentioned that I remain one of the most joyful people she knows. And if I can be joyful- after what I have endured- then maybe she can get there too. We talked through how to do it. We settled on “one foot at a time” along with yet another cliché, albeit more elevated and cohesive: mindfulness.
I realize that word has been slapped on every magazine cover in health food stores for the last 10 years. How many ways can we be reminded, and why do we have to keep talking about it? Because being in the present really is the answer. It doesn’t mean not caring about the future or the past. But it does mean soaking in experience, plugging into our relationships and values, and appreciating this delicate life.
After surviving an electrocution, I was 13 and amazed be alive. I actually went around thinking, this is so cool! Another day, another year! Let’s do this!
After surviving Mike’s death, I was numb. I was terrified. I was nowhere near amazed or excited. But I was still grateful for another day, another year. I remained acutely aware of the present, of being in the moment. Mindfulness. It was the only option- can’t look forward, certainly can’t look back- and it saved me.
These days, I feel cacophonous. There’s concern, realism, heaviness, sadness, and still a fair amount of joy. Wow, ok, another day, holy shit, I guess we are still doing this, ok, let’s go. Not quite optimism. But happy to have health, love, and even more chances to give life a try.
My apparently persistent joyfulness is fueled by awe. I still look to the sky in amazement that it’s still there, that it’s so beautiful, that there is an atmosphere that sustains us. The earth is spinning a thousand miles per hour. What?! Wow. We don’t even notice it. Meanwhile, we are in our own worlds, having been given brains and bodies evolved enough to create synaptic connections that feel and think and care and stress (but not evolved enough to know the answers). That’s why my job remains the coolest, because I get to help people figure out how to make meaning as tiny organisms on a careening planet in this unknown universe.
On a good day, this can be fun stuff to figure out. But a pandemic throws quite a wrench in it all. Survival is not interesting or recreational. Awe doesn’t pay bills or bring back loved ones. So control what you can. Plan once you can. Stay present when you can. And know that when the storm is over, you will have a new version of yourself and your life to pursue.
A cloud behind my house. Momentary awe.
Apathy is cancelled
I think we’d all agree that the past several months have been pretty horrible. I have been paralyzed about what to write. But I feel no paralysis whatsoever about what to do in the world. There are so many actions and conversations to be undertaken, with clients and not-clients alike.
I would recommend what to read or watch or do, but this blog is not trying to lean politically, except to reiterate that Black Lives Matter, which should not be a political statement but rather a self-evident and undisputed truth. Since it seems that everything leans politically these days, I’ll just remind everyone to stay healthy and safe, stay educated, and stay proactive. Apathy is cancelled.
As a supplement to your own action steps, you might want to check back in with your values. Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, or ACT, reorients us to values as a tool to overcome challenges or stuck points. Check out this series of handouts you can explore on your own:
https://thehappinesstrap.com/upimages/Complete_Worksheets_2014.pdf
As always, I am also a huge fan of Positive Psychology, which broke the mold by designing the anti-DSM (our pathology-focused diagnosis manual). Not just theory, this anti-DSM is based on exhaustive research into what builds our “character strengths and virtues.” These are determined by our intrinsic passions and values. Take a test of yours here, and then either double down on your top five, or use your bottom five for a values makeover:
Then, act. And by act, I mean, vote. Also, be kind to yourself. And others.
My daughter being kind to her new cat, Mafia. But she is also a fairly radical activist taking other actions, too.
Ps. Even Cancel Culture is fairly cancelled, and can indeed breed it’s own form of apathy! There are a couple of episodes of The Daily that address this trend, so check them out. But if anything should actually be cancelled, it’s apathy.
Letters From Lockdown
As we really “get to know ourselves” and “expand into the spaces” of our (actually) not-Zen-at-all, stressed and worried and messy and crowded isolation spaces, it is greater than you’d imagine to listen to Letters From Lockdown on Snap Judgement.
Glynn Washington (just the best host, right?!) chronicles the lives of those who’ve endured solitary confinement, been kidnapped or forced into refugee camps, spent months at sea. Talk about lockdowns.
There are two types of us: those who see others’ deep suffering as a reason to suffer less in comparison (either born from guilt or gratitude) and those who see others’ suffering as reason to be even more depressed about it all.
I hope for the former, although please bypass the unnecessary guilt (suffering is suffering, as you know). But it’s not about who has suffered more, anyway. It’s about the stories of how those in isolation get clever, get creative, get through it. Whatever there is to get out of it, it’s still better than getting sick.
Distance Therapy: The New (Ab)normal
Abnormal psychology is one of those rite-of-passage college classes that piques one’s imagination and does not disappoint. Strange and extreme conditions are pretty intriguing when learning about them from a distance. But true abnormality, or pathology, is something quite devastating. There’s no fun in it whatsoever. I think a global pandemic qualifies.
Nothing is business as usual and of course, for some, there is no business at all. Jobs lost, businesses shuttered, hopes dashed. Talents and passion projects and labors of love all on hold. As we hunker down, tending to ourselves and our families, waiting to forge uncertain futures, I feel especially fortunate to be able to do what I love, to connect to people in this strange new virtual landscape.
Even before the virus, I had been pleasantly surprised by video formats- telemedicine, videoconferencing, whatever the heck we are all calling the act of sitting awkwardly on our devices, trying to read each other’s body language (upper-body language?) while working through deep stuff. It’s quirky and glitchy and somehow… human.
Millennials and Gen Zs are so comfortable on screens that, at times, they are more themselves on FaceTime than face to face. Also, it’s cool to see their bedrooms or houses or dorms. But only if they want you to… they are expert backdrop curators. The rest of us old folks are quickly realizing that it’s actually quite easy, downloading a link, inviting or joining a virtual waiting room. Lighting doesn’t matter in the virtual therapy session, bring yourself just as you are.
The major downside, obviously, is privacy. My real-life clients know to slam my office door against the frame to get it to shut- that’s how much soundproofing I have smooshed between the cracks. Privacy. The essential function of therapy. Parents, kids, inadvertent walk-ins or curious onlookers to a virtual therapy session… simply ruinous. Going for a walk and talking on the phone might be more feasible, but has its own limitations.
A pandemic is riddled with limitations, and we are getting the hang of them. Every decision and movement and interaction is a renegotiation of everything we deemed presumable and civilized. We used to strive for balance: autonomy and privacy and independence on one hand, connection and relationship and interdependence on the other. Now, there’s a little too much of both. We miss connecting with the world, but we clamor for space from those at home.
But even that would be a generalization. Everyone is faring so differently. One can read about the apocalyptic advantages of being an introvert (it’s a guilty pleasure during a pandemic, but some like staying at home just fine). Bonding with immediate family isn’t always such a bad thing, either. But change is change, and it’s hard. And, people’s real-life goals and challenges are the same, perhaps amplified. So, the therapy must go on!
And after it all, I will revere the simple pleasure of seeing you back in my office again.
Homework works!
I am both a therapist and a professor. More often than not, my students are easy to teach. A syllabus is constructed for them, and it is mandatory. Clients are different. Counseling is a delicate practice, and clients don’t need to be taught. In fact, we know from experience and even from research (like “motivational interviewing”) that we learn the most about ourselves when we discover insights on our own. So, while a client isn’t always sure what is happening, the therapist is asking questions or making statements that simply promote their own self-discovery. Advice and even psycho-education are often discouraged in therapy.
I like to operate in a slightly more flexible realm. Clients often want advice (although that might be precisely when not to give it). But clients also want- and deserve- to be educated. They want to understand their anxiety, what grief looks like, how trauma might settle into their bodies. They want to know what to do about it. Increasingly, psychologists are “allowed” and even encouraged to inform and guide clients, because it often does work. The best therapy (in my opinion) is delicately balanced between guiding and not-guiding, informing and instilling confidence (and patience) in clients to inform themselves.
Many clients have the patience to do the work in the therapy room, but they might also want a recommendation for a book or an assignment they can practice on their own. This is a great goal, and a tricky one to execute. If I suggest an assignment, a client might fear disappointing me if they don’t complete it. Luckily, I am not a school teacher, and suggestions are nothing more than offerings.
Also, what happens in therapy is hard to translate to other formats. Like this blog, therapy is almost always centered around language and how we make meaning through language. So it’s important to find “self-help” through the other systems and experiences in our bodies and lives… art, nature, exercise, sleep. When it comes to words, “self-help” occurs spontaneously through song lyrics or the words of a child. On paper, novels and poems can be the greatest self-help of all. I like to find out what my clients enjoy reading and what moves them. I also like for them to explore the meaning of their own words, through journaling and logs.
Of course, my clients inform and enlighten me as much I as I do them, as evidenced by the long, hastily-scribbled list of books and podcast recommendations on my desk. I like the homework, but I’m glad I don’t have to turn it in.
The Not So Subtle Art
by Marc Manson
Everybody is talking about this book.
Even the dean at my nephew’s graduation was touting it, although the almost constant f-bombs precluded him from giving the book to the students. For the faculty, it was required reading. This book is not written by an expert. It’s written by a blogger. Maybe everything is written by a blogger now… or every writer has a blog? Either way, this guy is not a psychologist, not even close.
That’s why it’s so striking that this book is so psychological, and so relevant to psychology. Especially my brand of positive psychology, which is not so much about symptoms and problems, but more about how to design your life to create fulfillment and even happiness. But constructs like happiness are slippery slopes and this book does a remarkable job explaining that, along with what to do about it.
I mean, even the chapter titles of the book just make me smile:
Don’t Try
Happiness Is a Problem
You Are Not Special
The Value of Suffering
You are Always Choosing
You’re Wrong About Everything (But So am I)
Failure Is the Way Forward
The Importance of Saying No
…And Then You Die
Unfortunately, this blogger guy really likes bad words. I wonder if anyone has counted the number of times Marc Manson uses the word fuck in this book. What I do know is that the number is just too high. It’s a little funny to even have it in the title of the book, and I get it. But it loses its funny, snap-you-into-the story value pretty quickly.
For my students and some of my clients, I went ahead and condensed the book, which is something I love to do (because who reads anymore?) And I will break down some concepts in upcoming posts. But if you really like the word fuck, and if you like to read, you can (and should) go read the book.
HERE’S THE GIST
Happiness comes from expecting and tolerating negative experiences (to make the positive ones that much better), learning to solve meaningful problems, and taking radical responsibility for our lives. We must establish values and define manageable goals. We must allow for disappointments, rejections, and for other people to figure out their own stuff.
Manson tells great stories, at one point invoking Ernest Becker to point out that most of what we care about, worry about, and try to do in life is really based in a deep existential anxiety as we contemplate mortality. Becker was a brief (due to an untimely death), unconventional, and famous professor of anthropology, psychology, and philosophy. Students loved him but the faculty dreaded him (my favorite kind of professor!). In 1973, he wrote The Denial of Death, in which he coined the term death terror; due to humans’ unique ability to contemplate death.
The premise of death terror is pretty interesting. Becker identified two selves: the physical self (our bodies) and the conceptual self (our identities). Because the physical self will surely die, we’d rather focus on the conceptual self, devoting our energy to what might live on forever. He called these our immortality projects. We try to get our names on buildings or to give ourselves to others, especially our children, so that our influence might live on forever through our actions. We wish to be remembered, revered, idolized. As you might guess, our immortality projects are based on our values, but too much of our energy goes into these projects at the expense of being present and finding everyday meaning in life. It’s hard to be curious and excited about the world when we are so focused on ourselves.
the meaning of life, the universe, and everything
Is 42…jk. At least Manson answers the question whereas Douglas Adams refused to (my apologies for the multiple-famous-author cross-referencing).
Ok, its this:
Realize you are going to die, get zen with it (remember: you were lucky enough to have lived in the first place), become less entitled, become more humble.
Here’s where I’d like to turn it back over to Manson, as this passage is quite something, and sums it all up. Maybe I will print it and make a poster for my wall. You can find it on page 200:
Death is the only thing we can know with any certainty. And as such, it must be the compass with which we orient all of our other values and decisions. It is the direct answer to all of the questions we should ask but never do. The only way to be comfortable with death is to understand and see yourself as something bigger than yourself; to choose values that stretch beyond serving yourself, that are simple and immediate and controllable and tolerant of the chaotic world around you. This is the basic root of all happiness. Whether you are listening to Aristotle or the psychologists at Harvard or Jesus Christ or the goddamn Beatles, they all say that happiness comes from the same thing: caring about something greater than yourself, believing that you are a contributing component in some much larger entity, that your life is but a mere side process in some great unintelligible production. This feeling is what people go to church for; it’s what they fight wars for; it’s what they raise families and save pensions and build bridges and invent cell phones for, this fleeting sense of being part of something greater and more unknowable than themselves.
(Almost) not a single bad word in the whole passage! Well done.
Ps. At the end of the book, there’s a somewhat questionable story about Manson coming up against the edge of his life, literally, and why he is still here to write this book. Personally, I find that part gratuitous and maybe even ethically questionable, but I guess we all have our own values after all.
Pps. I don’t read his blog but I am guessing that this book is a compilation of cool blog posts, because I was looking up a great story he tells about William James (the father of psychology, and a true baller) and the whole story is right here, so check it out:
Watch this.
This short film about Gratitude shaped Everyone Matters by Louie Shwartzberg. It’s a great reset for your day, your week, your life.
Weed is everywhere.
At least here in Colorado, but really, everywhere. I guess it always has been, and that didn’t seem to be that big of a deal. As a clinician, it comes as a relief if a teenager prefers weed to alcohol; less car accidents, less non-consensual sex, a culture of kind, maybe even philosophical friends.
Meanwhile, it’s a becoming a huge problem. Edibles, vape pens, dabbing. Marijuana is available in intensely high doses and can be undetectable by parents and teachers. Some teens are high 24/7. Literally. Some use it to self-medicate, saying it helps their anxiety. That might be true, at least at first. But different strains act differently in the brain; most teens are happy to get their hands on any weed and don’t know what they are smoking. One day they feel good, the next they feel paranoid and antisocial. One day, they might take a test high and pull it off. They try to replicate that, and fail the next one. Coming down from being high, people are irritable, tired, and might have rebound depression, anxiety, stress. Some people can’t control how much they eat when they are high, then feel guilty, compounding body image issues. Most people are lethargic on weed, so they exercise less, too. One big problem with marijuana is it seems so versatile; every situation is a reason to get high. Movies, get high. Going out to eat, get high. Boring class, get high. Weekends, high. You get the point.
Regardless of whether marijuana seems to be “working” or not, there is compounding evidence that it’s bad for young brains. As with all drugs, the rule is, wait till you’re 25. This is laughable to teens, who strive to party pretty hard and to plan not to be concerned about their brains for several years. They feel invincible. And apathetic. Oh, did I mention weed makes people more apathetic?! But unfortunately, it doesn’t make them invincible.
What’s the solution? Let’s begin with, who needs to be high 24/7? That’s a clear signal that something is wrong. Real life, sober life, needs to be tolerable, enjoyable. Get to the bottom of that. Smoke less. Way less. Or, just wait. Every day, month, year later a teen starts smoking, the better. If a teen has real anxiety or stress, get professional help. Of course, there are larger policy decisions to be made, including this one. Sorry for the constant NYTimes references, but, hey, it’s a good resource! Read this:
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/16/opinion/marijuana-brain-effects.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share
the P word
Oh, Procrastination. So ubiquitous. So simple yet so, not simple. Yet another article to address it, this one from the New York Times:
I liked this one because it reminds me of one of my favorite interventions. To back up: the best known, state-of-the-art treatment for most psychological symptoms is CBT, or Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which was popularized in the 80s and 90s in response to the stream of consciousness, tell me about your mother, lay on a couch method that just hadn’t helped that many people. It is so great because, as it turns out, there are things you can DO to change, rather than just wait for you or your therapist to have some revelation about your mother. One great thing you can do is realize your cognitive distortions or dysfunctional thought patterns that set you up for failure, depression, self-loathing, all that fun stuff your brain automatically manufactures. You can look up lists of cognitive distortions and get to work on how to replace them with more accurate and effective thoughts.
One of the lesser known but important cognitive distortions is Emotional Reasoning, or assuming negative emotions reflect the way things really are. For example, “I feel guilty. I must be a terrible person.” Or “I feel angry. This proves I am being treated unfairly.” One of the best examples of Emotional Reasoning relates to procrastination and avoidance. Such as, I feel overwhelmed by how much I have to do, so I guess I can’t do it. I don’t feel like doing my work, so I will wait until I feel like doing it later. I don’t feel like I can focus now, therefore I can’t focus now.
One of the qualities of successful, satisfied people is doing what needs to be done and what you have deemed important to your overall life and goals, even when it’s not what you feel like doing. And, as your mother has told you so many times before, the things you feel like doing feel especially great when you have gotten the other things out of the way. See, moms don’t just cause our mental distress, they solve it! (Now if we would just listen to them).
Two other very relevant, moderately psycho-babble terms that relate to procrastination are frustration tolerance and delay of gratification. It’s what we aim to teach kids but can be the hardest things to actually teach our kids. We want to give them what they want, and we hate to see them suffer. They hate it too, but some of it is good for them. And some kids have a harder time with delaying gratification and tolerating frustration no matter what we set up for them. It has to do with their nervous systems, temperaments, and subjective levels of distress they truly feel when frustrated, when confronted with negative emotions, and when tempted by impulses.
So, procrastination is real. It’s probably why I found that article and am writing about it rather than attending to the other less desirable things on my list. But I can rationalize it, since I feel like I am helping you and doing something good for the world, and that, obviously, makes me a good person!
Therapists as Clients and Therapists
Lori Gottlieb, a writer and psychotherapist (a writer first, which explains why she writes so much and so intimately about psychotherapy- clients sign a disclosure form allowing her to write about them before beginning therapy), recently published Maybe You Should Talk to Someone about her experiences as a client and a therapist. I have not and might not read it (single parents don’t get to read a lot, and even then, I gravitate first to more professional texts, then biographies, and in a rare moment of luxury, some delicious fiction). Sometimes it actually hurts to think of all the books I have not read, and music I have not heard. So, maybe you can let me know if I really should read this book.
But I found this Fresh Air interview interesting and I thought you might, too, especially if you have wondered how (some) therapists feel about their clients and the therapeutic process. I will say, I disagree on a few things. For example, I never find my clients boring, actually!
Also this week, Ms. Gottlieb wrote a follow up article on how much a patient should know about their therapist, and in light of the blog my clients can access due to the extraordinary circumstances of my family’s life, this might also interest some of you.
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/03/30/opinion/therapy-therapists.html
The Accidental Narcissist
I have been so touched by recent suicides, both in our community and around the nation, if not the globe. The stories keep rolling in. An almost constant theme: the suffering person does not feel they can keep up, or prove their worth, or fulfill society’s expectations of what it means to be a good or functioning or contributing member of their family, school, community…
In psychology, the word narcissism is usually reserved for people with “personality disorders.” This diagnosis suggests they were raised without the necessary affirmation from healthy adults to develop a sturdy sense of self, one that can operate confidently and with healthy relationships. Narcissists need to surround themselves with people that constantly build their egos, that make them feel special and even superior to others, that insist on the illusion of grandiosity to feel worthy.
There are different kinds of narcissism, like “infantile narcissism” which is relatively unsophisticated… they throw lots of tantrums and remind me of certain world leaders. I digress. There are much more sophisticated narcissists, like those who are super high functioning and earn all the accolades they need. They might seem and act like sincerely effective parents or friends or professionals, feeling genuinely great about themselves. It’s usually in times of stress or conflict that their narcissism becomes more pronounced and confusing to others. Such as, if such a great parent, why do situations suddenly seem to be more about looking good than showing true empathy toward their child?
You can look up different kinds of narcissists online. These categories are mostly made up by lay people. It’s kind of interesting to look them up, but none of them describe what I am talking about today. You might even learn about how narcissism leads to depression, because we can’t always feel great about ourselves, and that’s depressing to a narcissist. But what you don’t hear is how depression sometimes leads tonarcissism. Enter the wrecking ball.
Forgive the frequent reference to Mike. I am not interested in diagnosing Mike with anything (other than his evident depression). Which is why he is just such a perfect example. He was the LEAST narcissistic person I knew. He was humble, hardworking, surrounded himself with people that challenged him, took feedback to heart, and worked on being a truly good person. He had several chances to be “big.” He was an award-winning writer with several books up his sleeve, but he never quite published them. He was a little shy. He never tried to be the center of attention. He liked asking questions more than talking about himself, and when talking about himself he would defer to other experts- philosophers, usually, but also leading neuropsychologists and any great thinkers he could find. He was the most empathetic person I have ever met. He felt sad for socks that were half-sticking out of a drawer, and he would tuck them in every time. He was even better with his kids and clients, and don’t even get me started on his pets.
Still, we all have some dormant narcissism. We all want to know that we are good and special. This is where the depression can go awry. People with depression often feel crushing self-consciousness. Self-consciousness becomes humiliation, then guilt. It consumes them. As psychologists, it’s one of the first things we try to do away with, because guilt is so detrimental to getting better. Depressed people often feel they aren’t living up to expectations, they won’t ever give enough to the world. When they realize that other people have it worse, they feel even worse about being depressed. They may fear they will not be accepted or will not be good for those around them. They begin to feel like a burden, like they are taking up too much space and not giving enough back to be worth even the air they breathe.
A depressed person can’t think clearly, can’t plan their way out of things, can’t see the future. It’s easy for us to tell them it will get better. And it almost always does. But to give it a chance, they have to agree to just be human, to just face each day with whatever they have to offer, to fend off the bullies and jerks telling them they are not good enough. They have to find people and circumstances that resonate with them. Or music or animals or mountaintops or purposeful jobs.
Mike resonated with so many people and places and things, but in the end, he was too afraid he might lose them. He was so used to being good at life that he came to depend on it. He couldn’t just be the guy that does an okay job. In the end, he was trying so hard to feel good about himself that he began to feel terrible. He was a truly great person, and he set the bar too high. He only had to be here and to take care of himself long enough to get out of his funk. People do it, even though it’s hard. It takes real humility, not humiliation.
In the end, there was no amount of reassurance to fill him up, which sounds a lot like a narcissist.
Remember: we are all special, we are all worthy. We don’t always feel it, and we panic. It’s ok. It’s a matter of time, practice, reassurance. More practice. More humility. Real actions. Little ones, day by day. Finding resonance, the right circumstances, the right environments. Buying some time, believing in yourself. Tolerating your flaws and remembering that we all have them. It’s ok. It’s not great, but it’s ok. We are all doing the best we can every day, and that’s enough. If you wonder if you could do more for yourself or the world, think about what you want to do, what you can do, and do it, whenever and however possible. That’s all.
Fall in Love
I was recently reminded of this article on falling in love… it is a great read whether you’re trying to fall in love or not. I especially like the last part where you stare into each other’s eyes. It’s true that we almost never stare into a person’s eyes unless we are falling in love (or as a newborn infant bonding with a trusted caregiver, still only briefly before averting their gaze to self-soothe).
In graduate school, we endured a similar rite of passage—we had to sit knee to knee and stare into the eyes of a stranger for about 20 minutes. We weren’t trying to fall in love, but it was really something. Pretty profound.
No matter whose soul you are diving into, this article reminds us to look at each other, to truly know each other, and to remain intimately attached.
https://www.nytimes.com/2015/01/11/fashion/no-37-big-wedding-or-small.html
Signs. Literal ones.
Are our loved ones communicating with us from the other side? What are they saying? What do we need them to say?
With Mike, I don’t need much. Sometimes, it’s because I am angry. I don’t reassurance that he is watching over me or sending us love. I just want him here with us, alive. I wish that was a choice. Other times, I just worry about him, and wonder what happened to his beautiful soul. I feel relieved because I already know he is in less pain, hopefully no pain, by definition of having left his body and this life, or at least that mind at that time in that body in this life.
But mostly, I miss him so much and I see signs of him everywhere. I am a skeptic, so I assume I am making these up. But some of them really stick with me. Mike was a man of words, poetic ones. So it makes sense that he tends to show up in words. Like music lyrics. Once, I was driving home from Red Rocks on Father’s Day, the first one after his death, and I had my music on shuffle. I don’t listen to any of those music apps, I like to buy music and a lot of it. I have a pretty huge collection of music on my phone. Sometimes when I don’t know what to play I just shuffle through the songs and it’s quite a crapshoot. That night, on the way home in a torrential rain storm, 9 or 10 songs played in a row, each one an uncanny memory and a specific message from Mike. Let’s just say, if he were trying to reach me, these are the exact songs he would play.
Months after Mike died, I finally got the courage to turn a city corner towards what had been our favorite museum, one that we loved so much that our kids basically grew up there… soaking in events on the rooftop lounge and mastering the vast elevators and nooks as if it was their own castle. This is what I saw:
Of course, I looked up this artist and learned about the piece, which was intended as a double-entendre, the last “e” flickering on and off…
I actually laughed, it was so ridiculously obvious or at least ridiculously apropos.
The first Halloween we navigated without Mike was practically unbearable. I would say it was totally unbearable but apparently, life did go on. The kids and I sat in a parking lot at one of those pop-up Halloween stores, and I didn’t think I’d be able to go in. After all, this was Mike’s THING. Like, I had not even been in one of these stores because Mike did this every year. He lived for Halloween. He was always trying to bring home more holiday stuff. Often second-hand Halloween decorations (and Christmas decorations, any decorations). He liked to give peoples’ old decorations new homes, I think he actually felt sorry for them. Honestly, I hated most of that stuff. The plastic, the clutter. I never liked Halloween, either. Anyway, it was hard. I felt paralyzed. I wasn't sure I could go in. Then my most stoic child said, “You got this. We got this.” And we went in.
It became my mantra and our family motto.
This summer, we finally returned to what had been another very special family place. We had a lot of these… we tried to create rituals and meaning with the kids by making them feel at home at a few great places and returning to these places time and time again. This is so hard to reflect on, because it means 1. Mike went out of his way to design amazing experiences for his beautiful daughters, then he just left (I guess this one is obvious, but it still just stuns me every time) and 2. now I have to figure out what to do about all these awesome places that the kids call home. Meaning, I have to get up the guts to take them back there. To reclaim these beautiful places and even the memories.
So, I got up the guts to take them to our favorite hot spring (that’s saying a lot to pick a favorite, we basically travel by hot spring… especially with little kids, it’s the best). Again, it was hard. We brought friends. It was special and worth it. One morning, I went to one of the revered pools and looked around and saw this new sign installed on the wall:
Later that same day, I went to a nearby town for some marshmallows. There is one co-op in this one-street town that indeed housed organic marshmallows, strange animal products, and this rack of greeting cards:
Somehow it looked cooler at the hot spring… but it still counted.
I’ll take the signs when I can get them. Halloween is right around the corner. Again.
Post-Traumatic Growth. It's a Thing!
A few weeks ago, I was surprised to learn that my graduate students, some of whom are near completion of their doctorate, had not heard of, much less learned about, post-traumatic growth. To be fair, it is a relatively new concept. But such an immensely important one. We discussed it in reference to several of our clinical cases, but I know the most about it because of my own kids.
I remember hearing a story about post-traumatic growth on NPR. I had an a-ha moment, because I had been trying to consider the ways that my children are growing from losing their dad. This line of thinking feels traitorous to me, and I think to most people. We are expected to be devastated and miserable. And that is true. But everyone also hopes we will at least be ok. Their hearts pour out to me but even more so to our kids; they know that young minds can’t be expected to handle the immensely convoluted event of their loving father’s suicide.
So it’s pretty amazing to watch them, as they prove what they can handle. I never take it for granted. Every day they are happy and thriving, I feel that they are on the other side. I know that, at any moment, the tragedy will grip them, and at times it does. It will take decades to know just how hard and sad and strange it will feel. How abandoned or betrayed or confused or angry or even depressed they might become.
But with all those hard and yucky feelings, some great things are happening. I can’t speak for my kids, but from the outside, they seem pretty bullet-proof. They are not just getting through this, they are positively, explosively crushing it. And not with just the outside stuff, like grades or things like that. I mean the real stuff. They are genuine, vital, connected. Although so different from each other, they both seem immensely compassionate (maybe that has more to do with our pets or some Barney episodes on making friends?). They aren’t trying to be great or perfect. They aren’t perfect, not even close. They are allowed to grieve and to be messy at it. As if growing up wasn’t already messy enough.
But something is happening, and, ironically and sadly, it’s related to their huge, awful loss. Post-traumatic growth is seen when victims of trauma experience “enhanced relationships, greater self-acceptance, and a heightened appreciation of life.”
Yet, in order for this kind of outcome to be experienced (yes, noted, my kids are not “outcomes” yet), people need support from those around them. They need to be loved and listened to in order to grow. Not rocket science. But just a reminder. Love them up, people!
A blissful moment of growth, post-trauma or otherwise.
Some cool links to information about post-traumatic growth:
https://www.newyorker.com/tech/elements/can-trauma-help-you-grow
https://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/25/magazine/post-traumatic-stresss-surprisingly-positive-flip-side.html
MIke’s Story:
Below are posts that chronicle the delicate story, and what's become the public story, of my family and of Mike's death. I hope that you get from it whatever you need. It has been a difficult but decidedly fruitful exercise in honesty, connection, and community. Whenever researching people's struggles and suicidality, be sure to care for yourself.