Many people I see with chronic depression carry around with them a tormentor who says the most terrible things imaginable about them, their abilities, their worth, their very right to live.
That tormentor is their own inner critic (hardly a strong enough term for the cruelty that can be unleashed by these inner voices).
Often it is clear where this voice came from (usually from experiences in childhood). But that knowledge is not enough to change things.
This morning a young, articulate, talented, and, at times, extremely depressed woman came in to see me and reported having experienced a remarkable change, one that was clear from her self-confident presentation.
She had focused her attention on her critical voice in a new way. This had engaged her intelligent adult brain. And the result was significant relief from the torment.
The result was a profound recognition that this harsh, critical voice was abusive. She thought to herself, if I were in a relationship with someone who said these things I would “head for the hills.”
Of course, one can’t run from oneself.
Instead, she started to think of the situation as though she was dealing with a family. One member of the family was being abusive, but why and what could be done about it? This is what happened:
The other night, after saying “This is me being beat up. I can change this right now,” what I did differently was –
- externalize the critic/abuser. I imagined her stomping around the apartment. And you know what? I wouldn’t live with this person. Never mind maintain a life-long relationship with them. And
- try to become aware of the injury that was happening in the moment, internally, while the critic was still around to witness it.
Was I registering her abuse anywhere? I wasn’t sure. But from past therapy I know that a tool to arouse compassion towards self is to imagine (or even look at a picture of) yourself as a child. If you feel hostility towards this child, pick another age. Usually there are a few that you can count on. When I see this child, I soften. I want to protect her.
The key was to tune into the relation between them, not either the abuser or the injured child alone. It can feel contrived, but one scenario that works for me is to try in your mind to get the parts in a room together. The angry one who wants to bash my head against the wall, and, even if I can’t get a specific response from an injured part, which I didn’t, then a mental image of an emotionally wounded younger me. Plenty to choose from. If I try to put words to the process like “Then I tried to get the abuser to see that she was injuring me just like my abusers have,” then I’ve inserted another level of narration that, in my experience, needs to be relinquished during the process. But for didactic purposes, yes, this is what I tried to do.
The catalytic recognition here is between them. The abuser, who didn’t want to take responsibility, kept turning her body (in my imagined scenario) towards the doorway. The intervention or guidance comes here, where I just encourage her to stay. Just try to encourage willingness for the scenario to continue. Continue taking breaths. If I lose either or both of them while contriving the scene, which happens, then I’ll take the risk and provoke the angry abuser or recall a specific phrase associated with her, and then bring the image of me as a child back into the room, maybe a more specific or more general one if need be. The abuser may not want to be accountable for the damage she causes in my life now. But with the younger, abused part in her presence, I am counting on being able to elicit a compassionate response from her. And it came, the smallest crack. A recognition that she is hurting me.
So, recognition on her part that she is abusing me as others have in the past (or worse!!), and then, with the compassionate response from her comes regret, sadness, some kind of recognition that she has done harm. I don’t have to generate this response. In fact it must come from her, a genuine recognition that she wouldn’t inflict this on anyone, least of all the most vulnerable parts of myself that are so susceptible to her criticism.
It is then and only then that her legendary passion for getting me off the couch and to my deadlines can be expressed through other means, to help me.