I often work with patients who have endured some sort of trauma and who have blamed themselves for these events. In most cases, it would be obvious to any outside observer that my patient is not at fault for what happened. In fact, many of my patients have been told on multiple occasions and by many people that they are not to blame. Still, they continue to blame and then condemn themselves. The most common example of this is sexual assault. Patients often blame themselves for not screaming louder, fighting harder, or somehow resisting more vehemently. Or they insist that they "should have known" the person was a rapist and stayed away from him.
Then there are the patients I encounter whose actions did play some sort of role in the outcome of their traumatic experiences. I have never had a case like this that was completely cut and dry, i.e., the patient's actions were the direct cause of a negative outcome. Keep in mind that most of my patients are military service members. So an example of this type of situation might be as follows: A patient is in charge of some team or unit of service members. He plans some sort of mission or decides upon a particular course of action, which his team or unit then implements. Someone in the team/unit gets hurt or killed during the mission. The patient blames himself because he planned the mission and selected the people who participated in it. Of course, the patient did not plant the bomb or fire the gun that killed his teammate. Still, he feels responsible.
Self blame inevitably causes suffering. A person's thoughts are often consumed by their traumatic experience/experiences. They replay the event in their minds over and over again in an effort to identify what they could have done differently that would have led to a different outcome. They initially condemn their actions but over time end up condemning themselves. Often they begin to hate themselves. As self-loathing grows, they withdraw socially and isolate themselves from others. They frequently become depressed.
Self-blame also keeps a person stuck. When a person blames himself for some traumatic event, everything about the event becomes frozen in time. The person's memories of and feelings associated with the experience are stored in their mind and body in their original form. When the person attempts to process the event he ends up condemning himself. It doesn't take long before he decides to stop trying to process the event. He tries to bury the emotions and memories. This is, of course, impossible. At some point, the emotions and memories rise to the surface (e.g., when the person sees something that reminds him of the event), as intense and as vivid as they were on the day the traumatic event occurred. Most people respond by redoubling their efforts to suppress the thoughts and emotions, which may work in the short term but will eventually fail. And thus a self-defeating cycle emerges.
If self-blame has such obvious negative consequences then why do it? While the costs of self-blame are many, it also provides a certain benefit; it enables a person to maintain a sense of control. If I accept that something bad happened that was completely beyond my ability to prevent or control then I must accept that something terrible could happen again at any minute and there is nothing I can do about it. This is, of course, technically true. It is, however, quite scary. How do we live in a world where we cannot keep ourselves safe?
If, however, something terrible happens and I blame myself for it then I can prevent the bad thing from happening again by changing my behavior in some way. In other words, if it's my fault then I can fix it (or keep it from happening again). I am in control. Blaming myself allows me to maintain the illusion that I have control over my environment and that I can prevent bad things from happening to me (and am therefore able to keep myself safe).
In future posts I will talk about ways to move past self blame...
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Sunday, April 21, 2013
The guilt of feeling satisfied
I previously mentioned that I wanted to spend some time thinking about who I want to be - my ideal self. This isn't the first time I've considered this. A few years ago I could've readily identified the areas in my life in need of improvement. Even now there are things I try to be mindful of: to refrain from snapping at people (especially my husband) just because I'm tired or in a bad mood; to spend more time attending to and interacting with my stepdaughter when she's with us; to call two or three close friends on a regular basis (time passes quickly and it's easy to lose touch, even with people you care about); to spend time playing (or at least attempting to play) with my nieces when we're together; and to stop what I'm doing and give my full attention when someone is trying to have a conversation with me. There are some other things I can't recall at the moment.
So I do make a conscious effort to cultivate particular ways of being. There are also things I would like to do in theory (such as doing volunteer work in my spare time) but I know myself well enough to recognize I will never muster the motivation to do them. I am not perfect; my life is not perfect. For the most part, however, I am happy and content with myself and my life.
It seems that this is both a blessing and a curse. I have not always been content in life, so I appreciate what a blessing it is just to wake up most days feeling good. I do not take this for granted. On the other hand, I have absolutely no drive or ambition. I had both of these when I was younger. I was intensely focused on my educational and career goals. I successfully achieved these, and within the timeframe I'd set for myself. I finished my bachelors and masters degrees. I bought a house in my early twenties. (Unfortunately, I am now unable to get rid of this house because housing values have fallen so much since the recession). I like my job; right now, it's exactly what I want to be doing. I am naturally curious, so I'm constantly learning new techniques and ideas. Still, I see little need to pursue additional training in any particular technique or strategy.
I knew when I entered my profession that I'd never be rich. Currently, I have a good idea of how much others of my profession living in the same geographical area earn and my salary is comprable. I haven't had a raise in three years, but I suspect that this is due to the nation's economic problems and not specific to my employer. Do I want to make more money? Sure. Do I want to find another job? Not at all. Even if I could make a little more money (probably no more than $10,000 a year more than I make now) somewhere else I don't really want to work anywhere else, at least not right now.
I do have one concrete goal right now: for my husband and I to buy a bigger house so we can expand our family. Starting this month, I'm going to start paying extra towards the principal on my mortgage. I've also been saving a few hundred dollars each month for the past several years. (And I think I've saved every tax return I've gotten since I started working). Hopefully these efforts will eventually help me achieve my goal. I suppose I could get a second job to accumulate money at a faster rate, but it would make me unhappy. (I know this from previous experience - I don't have enough free time when I have a second job and it makes me unhappy).
In summary, I have no interest in pursuing additional education (at least not formally; on an informal basis, I will never stop learning new things). There are no "promotions" at my current job; my colleagues and I each practice as independent clinicians. Our supervisor is a military public health officer. Unless I plan on joining the military (I don't), there is no room for advancement. Going by past experience, I will probably get a modest raise at some point in the next several years. I'm okay with this. I am not actively looking for a better paying job. The only concrete goal I am working towards (excluding my general aim to be a good person and to spend as much time as possible with the people I love) is buying a bigger house. For these reasons, I have been told that I lack ambition.
Ambition is "the earnest drive for achievement and the willingness to strive for its attainment." If this is an accurate definition then I cannot deny it: I have very little ambition. I possess no drive, earnest or otherwise, to achieve any particular goal. It is obviously not possible to strive for the attainment of goals that do not exist.
At this point in my life I am the happiest I have ever been. Beneath my contentment, however, lies a kernel of guilt. Lately I wonder if I should be doing more. Am I selling myself short? Am I using my talents to the best of my ability? Do I lack ambition because I am content with life? Or is it because I've grown lazy?
So I do make a conscious effort to cultivate particular ways of being. There are also things I would like to do in theory (such as doing volunteer work in my spare time) but I know myself well enough to recognize I will never muster the motivation to do them. I am not perfect; my life is not perfect. For the most part, however, I am happy and content with myself and my life.
It seems that this is both a blessing and a curse. I have not always been content in life, so I appreciate what a blessing it is just to wake up most days feeling good. I do not take this for granted. On the other hand, I have absolutely no drive or ambition. I had both of these when I was younger. I was intensely focused on my educational and career goals. I successfully achieved these, and within the timeframe I'd set for myself. I finished my bachelors and masters degrees. I bought a house in my early twenties. (Unfortunately, I am now unable to get rid of this house because housing values have fallen so much since the recession). I like my job; right now, it's exactly what I want to be doing. I am naturally curious, so I'm constantly learning new techniques and ideas. Still, I see little need to pursue additional training in any particular technique or strategy.
I knew when I entered my profession that I'd never be rich. Currently, I have a good idea of how much others of my profession living in the same geographical area earn and my salary is comprable. I haven't had a raise in three years, but I suspect that this is due to the nation's economic problems and not specific to my employer. Do I want to make more money? Sure. Do I want to find another job? Not at all. Even if I could make a little more money (probably no more than $10,000 a year more than I make now) somewhere else I don't really want to work anywhere else, at least not right now.
I do have one concrete goal right now: for my husband and I to buy a bigger house so we can expand our family. Starting this month, I'm going to start paying extra towards the principal on my mortgage. I've also been saving a few hundred dollars each month for the past several years. (And I think I've saved every tax return I've gotten since I started working). Hopefully these efforts will eventually help me achieve my goal. I suppose I could get a second job to accumulate money at a faster rate, but it would make me unhappy. (I know this from previous experience - I don't have enough free time when I have a second job and it makes me unhappy).
In summary, I have no interest in pursuing additional education (at least not formally; on an informal basis, I will never stop learning new things). There are no "promotions" at my current job; my colleagues and I each practice as independent clinicians. Our supervisor is a military public health officer. Unless I plan on joining the military (I don't), there is no room for advancement. Going by past experience, I will probably get a modest raise at some point in the next several years. I'm okay with this. I am not actively looking for a better paying job. The only concrete goal I am working towards (excluding my general aim to be a good person and to spend as much time as possible with the people I love) is buying a bigger house. For these reasons, I have been told that I lack ambition.
Ambition is "the earnest drive for achievement and the willingness to strive for its attainment." If this is an accurate definition then I cannot deny it: I have very little ambition. I possess no drive, earnest or otherwise, to achieve any particular goal. It is obviously not possible to strive for the attainment of goals that do not exist.
At this point in my life I am the happiest I have ever been. Beneath my contentment, however, lies a kernel of guilt. Lately I wonder if I should be doing more. Am I selling myself short? Am I using my talents to the best of my ability? Do I lack ambition because I am content with life? Or is it because I've grown lazy?
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Self Mentoring?
From my first human services class as an undergraduate student, through graduate school, three internships, my first "real" job, and my experiences as a clinician, my development as a professional has been entwined with my emotional and psychological growth as an individual. I've often found that my professional experiences have been the impetus for self exploration; many times I needed to first grow and change as a person in order to become a better clinician. In this way, my personal and professional growth have been and continue to be inseparable. Would I be as self aware and emotionally healthy if I'd chosen some other line of work? I doubt it. Would I be as good of a clinician if I hadn't devoted so much time and energy to dealing with my own psychological and emotional baggage? Definitely not.
While my career as a clinician has been integral to my own development, one need not be a psychotherapist in order to achieve personal growth. This is, in fact, the idea behind the field of self-help. Anybody can improve as a person, become more self-aware, understand themselves better, relate to others more effectively, or become more "enlightened."
I recently came across a relatively new (or new to me) method of self-help: self-mentoring. I'm not particularly interested in debating the merits of various self-help techniques. When I come across something new I tend to explore it a little. If I'm especially intrigued I'll do more research. Otherwise, I'll take from it anything that seems useful and go on about my life.
So, about self-mentoring. The first major component of self-mentoring is self-discovery. It requires a realistic and accurate assessment of you true self - both strengths and weaknesses. I can definitely support this, given my strong belief in the merits of self-awareness. Suggested "self-mentoring" strategies for self-assessment include self-monitoring, self-reflection, seeking feedback from trusted others, consulting professional or expert sources (to include books, journals, videos, an actual psychotherapist, etc.), and/or completing any of an infinite number of personality assessment inventories (which can be quite helpful if you've never done one. I personally recommend the Myers-Briggs. If you Google Myers-Briggs personality assessment, you can probably find several free ones online).
A quick aside -- personally, I think it is impossible for any person to ever completely know himself. I therefore believe that self-assessment should be an ongoing and lifelong process. Self-awareness promotes mindfulness and makes it easier to have meaningful relationships with others.
Knowing yourself (to the degree this is possible) is of course meaningless if you make no attempt to use that knowledge. This brings us to the second major component of self-mentoring: self-improvement, preferably in the form of concrete behavioral change. In order to change, you must first have an idea of who you want to be. (They call this your "ideal self").
In my brief foray into the world of self-mentoring, it was this idea of an "ideal self" that made the strongest impression. It's not that I've never heard of this concept before; I have. It just made me realize that I haven't given much thought recently to who I want to be. I reflect a lot on who I am and I definitely try to be the best version of myself as often as possible. But who do I want to become? I honestly don't know. And so I suppose I need to give it some thought...
While my career as a clinician has been integral to my own development, one need not be a psychotherapist in order to achieve personal growth. This is, in fact, the idea behind the field of self-help. Anybody can improve as a person, become more self-aware, understand themselves better, relate to others more effectively, or become more "enlightened."
I recently came across a relatively new (or new to me) method of self-help: self-mentoring. I'm not particularly interested in debating the merits of various self-help techniques. When I come across something new I tend to explore it a little. If I'm especially intrigued I'll do more research. Otherwise, I'll take from it anything that seems useful and go on about my life.
So, about self-mentoring. The first major component of self-mentoring is self-discovery. It requires a realistic and accurate assessment of you true self - both strengths and weaknesses. I can definitely support this, given my strong belief in the merits of self-awareness. Suggested "self-mentoring" strategies for self-assessment include self-monitoring, self-reflection, seeking feedback from trusted others, consulting professional or expert sources (to include books, journals, videos, an actual psychotherapist, etc.), and/or completing any of an infinite number of personality assessment inventories (which can be quite helpful if you've never done one. I personally recommend the Myers-Briggs. If you Google Myers-Briggs personality assessment, you can probably find several free ones online).
A quick aside -- personally, I think it is impossible for any person to ever completely know himself. I therefore believe that self-assessment should be an ongoing and lifelong process. Self-awareness promotes mindfulness and makes it easier to have meaningful relationships with others.
Knowing yourself (to the degree this is possible) is of course meaningless if you make no attempt to use that knowledge. This brings us to the second major component of self-mentoring: self-improvement, preferably in the form of concrete behavioral change. In order to change, you must first have an idea of who you want to be. (They call this your "ideal self").
In my brief foray into the world of self-mentoring, it was this idea of an "ideal self" that made the strongest impression. It's not that I've never heard of this concept before; I have. It just made me realize that I haven't given much thought recently to who I want to be. I reflect a lot on who I am and I definitely try to be the best version of myself as often as possible. But who do I want to become? I honestly don't know. And so I suppose I need to give it some thought...
Sunday, April 7, 2013
The comfort of a good routine
My stepdaughter was on Spring Break this past week so I took off from work to spend time with her. My sister held her annual Easter Egg hunt the day before Easter. We went to church with my family on Easter Sunday and had lunch with family afterwards. We took a two day trip to Baltimore with family on Tuesday and Wednesday.
I always have to prepare myself mentally the week or so before a vacation. It's not that I don't enjoy the time off from work and spending time with people I love - I do. It's just that it's very hard for me to deviate from my routine. My weeks are typically quite structured. I get up at 5 AM, get ready to go, and arrive to work between 7 and 730. Even what I eat for breakfast rarely changes: oatmeal with brown sugar and fruit. I get off of work at 4 PM. I go home, change clothes, and head to the gym. I spend about 45 minutes at the gym (where I do a strength training routine and either jog on the treadmill or use the elliptical), I come home, change into sweats, and relax. My husband and I eventually sit down for dinner and spend a little time together before I go to bed around 930. That's my week, at least Monday through Thursday. On Fridays, I come home and try to clean up around the house. Sometimes I meet up with friends for dinner. Saturdays are free days. Sundays I go to my parents' and have lunch with my family.
I know, my life isn't very exciting. Some people might say it's quite boring. Not me. I like the calm predictability of structure and routine. It's familiar. It's comfortable.
Now I realize I'm probably a little too comfortable with my routine; I have a hard time deviating from it. I hate when someone calls me at work and asks me to accompany them to some spontaneously planned event that same evening. I'll usually go, depending on the event, but if it requires me to skip the gym then I end up feeling guilty. I realize that this is slightly unrealistic. That's why I typically end up attending whatever event I've been invited too, despite feeling a bit guilty. Just because I feel a particular way doesn't mean I have to act on those emotions.
And then the vacation inevitably comes to an end. This is where a little mindfulness is helpful. It's not unusual to start lamenting that vacation is "almost over" several days before it ends. Every time this thought comes up it brings with it feelings of disappointment. These feelings keep you from fully enjoying what's happening now, while you're still on vacation. I've done pretty well at avoiding this trap. What I have a more difficult time with is the disappointment that comes when vacation is officially over. I find myself reliving everything I did and wondering if I made the most of it. Having looked forward to this vacation for weeks, I find myself thinking about what I have to look forward to now. Why is there this need to have something to anticipate? Why not be satisfied with the vacation I've had and get back to my normal routine? I realize this is a common habit; perhaps it's human nature...
I always have to prepare myself mentally the week or so before a vacation. It's not that I don't enjoy the time off from work and spending time with people I love - I do. It's just that it's very hard for me to deviate from my routine. My weeks are typically quite structured. I get up at 5 AM, get ready to go, and arrive to work between 7 and 730. Even what I eat for breakfast rarely changes: oatmeal with brown sugar and fruit. I get off of work at 4 PM. I go home, change clothes, and head to the gym. I spend about 45 minutes at the gym (where I do a strength training routine and either jog on the treadmill or use the elliptical), I come home, change into sweats, and relax. My husband and I eventually sit down for dinner and spend a little time together before I go to bed around 930. That's my week, at least Monday through Thursday. On Fridays, I come home and try to clean up around the house. Sometimes I meet up with friends for dinner. Saturdays are free days. Sundays I go to my parents' and have lunch with my family.
I know, my life isn't very exciting. Some people might say it's quite boring. Not me. I like the calm predictability of structure and routine. It's familiar. It's comfortable.
Now I realize I'm probably a little too comfortable with my routine; I have a hard time deviating from it. I hate when someone calls me at work and asks me to accompany them to some spontaneously planned event that same evening. I'll usually go, depending on the event, but if it requires me to skip the gym then I end up feeling guilty. I realize that this is slightly unrealistic. That's why I typically end up attending whatever event I've been invited too, despite feeling a bit guilty. Just because I feel a particular way doesn't mean I have to act on those emotions.
And then the vacation inevitably comes to an end. This is where a little mindfulness is helpful. It's not unusual to start lamenting that vacation is "almost over" several days before it ends. Every time this thought comes up it brings with it feelings of disappointment. These feelings keep you from fully enjoying what's happening now, while you're still on vacation. I've done pretty well at avoiding this trap. What I have a more difficult time with is the disappointment that comes when vacation is officially over. I find myself reliving everything I did and wondering if I made the most of it. Having looked forward to this vacation for weeks, I find myself thinking about what I have to look forward to now. Why is there this need to have something to anticipate? Why not be satisfied with the vacation I've had and get back to my normal routine? I realize this is a common habit; perhaps it's human nature...
Sunday, March 31, 2013
To trust or not to trust?
To trust is to place one's confidence in someone or something. Trust implies a belief in the truth of what one is told or promised. It suggests a willingness to place one's faith in another while having no guarantee of a positive outcome.
With trust comes uncertainty. The more confident we are that a person or entity will fulfill his/her/its commitment the more willing we are to trust him/her/it. Still, we can never predict what will happen in the future with complete certainty; thus, there is always some degree of uncertainty associated with trust. For this reason, we talk about trust in terms of probability. When deciding to trust (or not to trust), we try to assess the most likely outcome(s) of the situation at hand.
So how do we know who (or what) to trust? This is a question with important consequences. If we place trust in the wrong people, we end up getting manipulated, used, or taken advantage of. If we refuse to trust anyone, we become paranoid and suspicious and we deprive oursleves of meaningful and fulfilling relationships with others.
Unfortunately, there is no magic formula that allows us to make a calculated decision about who we can trust. There are, however, a few basic guidelines that I have found helpful.
1. Trust is not an allor nothing concept. Many of us assume that either we can trust a person or we can't; there is no middle ground. If we can't trust a person completely then we can't trust him at all. This mindset can create a lot of unncessary problems. It can cause us to place unconditional trust in the wrong people or to prematurely terminate meaningful relationships in response to even the smallest violation of trust. It is more helpful to think of trust as varying by category and degree. From this perspective, you can decide to trust someone in one area but not in another. For example, I might trust a friend to pick me up from the airport on time but have absolutely no trust in her ability to keep a secret. We can still have a perfectly healthy relationship; I just know not to tell her anything I don't want anyone else to know.
2. It is best to trust a person only as much as you know him. Some of us have the tendency to get ahead of ourselves. We meet someone new; by the end of the week we've told him our entire life story. Having just met this person, we have no idea how he will react to or what he will do with this information; we have no information upon which to form an opinion. Sometimes I talk to my patients about red flags. For example: if someone you've known for less than a month asks to borrow money, your car, or some other significant item - RUN! This is a red flag!
3. The best predictor of what a person will do in the future is what you have seen him or her do in the past. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule. People can and do change. It is, however, rare that they do so spontaneously; there is almost always a precipitating factor. Change requires long term commitment. Rarely do people invest the time and effort to change unless the negative consequences of their behavior start to pile up. Some examples. If a friend is always late and has given no indication that she is committed to changing this behavior, you can trust that she will be late the next time you invite her somewhere (no matter how important the occasion). If a family member has a history of lying, you can trust that he'll most likely lie to you at some point in the future. It is in your best interest, then, to investigate whatever he or she tells you before accepting it as truth. If your spouse has consistently demonstrated that he or she is bad with money, you can trust that he or she will probably continue to make poor financial decisions in the future. It would be quite foolish to trust him/her to manage the family's finances; such trust would have no basis in reality.
4. If a person is determined to deceive you he will probably succeed. Let's face it: there are people out there who lie, cheat, steal, and manipulate. Some people are so good at deception that even the most discerning among us are fooled. Fortunately, the majority of people are not con artists. Over the course of a lifetime, almost everyone will be betrayed or deceived at least once. It is never a pleasant experience. While it is natural to want to avoid such pain in the future, deciding never to trust anyone ever again is not the best way to do it.
With trust comes uncertainty. The more confident we are that a person or entity will fulfill his/her/its commitment the more willing we are to trust him/her/it. Still, we can never predict what will happen in the future with complete certainty; thus, there is always some degree of uncertainty associated with trust. For this reason, we talk about trust in terms of probability. When deciding to trust (or not to trust), we try to assess the most likely outcome(s) of the situation at hand.
So how do we know who (or what) to trust? This is a question with important consequences. If we place trust in the wrong people, we end up getting manipulated, used, or taken advantage of. If we refuse to trust anyone, we become paranoid and suspicious and we deprive oursleves of meaningful and fulfilling relationships with others.
Unfortunately, there is no magic formula that allows us to make a calculated decision about who we can trust. There are, however, a few basic guidelines that I have found helpful.
1. Trust is not an allor nothing concept. Many of us assume that either we can trust a person or we can't; there is no middle ground. If we can't trust a person completely then we can't trust him at all. This mindset can create a lot of unncessary problems. It can cause us to place unconditional trust in the wrong people or to prematurely terminate meaningful relationships in response to even the smallest violation of trust. It is more helpful to think of trust as varying by category and degree. From this perspective, you can decide to trust someone in one area but not in another. For example, I might trust a friend to pick me up from the airport on time but have absolutely no trust in her ability to keep a secret. We can still have a perfectly healthy relationship; I just know not to tell her anything I don't want anyone else to know.
2. It is best to trust a person only as much as you know him. Some of us have the tendency to get ahead of ourselves. We meet someone new; by the end of the week we've told him our entire life story. Having just met this person, we have no idea how he will react to or what he will do with this information; we have no information upon which to form an opinion. Sometimes I talk to my patients about red flags. For example: if someone you've known for less than a month asks to borrow money, your car, or some other significant item - RUN! This is a red flag!
3. The best predictor of what a person will do in the future is what you have seen him or her do in the past. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule. People can and do change. It is, however, rare that they do so spontaneously; there is almost always a precipitating factor. Change requires long term commitment. Rarely do people invest the time and effort to change unless the negative consequences of their behavior start to pile up. Some examples. If a friend is always late and has given no indication that she is committed to changing this behavior, you can trust that she will be late the next time you invite her somewhere (no matter how important the occasion). If a family member has a history of lying, you can trust that he'll most likely lie to you at some point in the future. It is in your best interest, then, to investigate whatever he or she tells you before accepting it as truth. If your spouse has consistently demonstrated that he or she is bad with money, you can trust that he or she will probably continue to make poor financial decisions in the future. It would be quite foolish to trust him/her to manage the family's finances; such trust would have no basis in reality.
4. If a person is determined to deceive you he will probably succeed. Let's face it: there are people out there who lie, cheat, steal, and manipulate. Some people are so good at deception that even the most discerning among us are fooled. Fortunately, the majority of people are not con artists. Over the course of a lifetime, almost everyone will be betrayed or deceived at least once. It is never a pleasant experience. While it is natural to want to avoid such pain in the future, deciding never to trust anyone ever again is not the best way to do it.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Reason vs. Emotion in Decision Making
When it comes to making decisions, Western societies tend to value reason and rational thought. The assumption is that good decisions are based upon careful consideration of all relevant facts. Whenever possible, important factors and potential outcomes should be quantified. The more data-driven the process, the better.
If reason is the foundation of good decision making, emotion is perceived as its enemy. Emotional decisions are seen as impulsive, reactive, and irrational. Emotions are thought to interfere with making good decisions by distorting the salience of particular information, thus creating bias in the decision maker. We are therefore encouraged to set our feelings aside when making decisions, lest they interfere with the process.
Science has started to challenge these assumptions in recent years. There exists a growing body of evidence suggesting that - far from interfering with the decision making process - emotions are an invaluable source of information.
According to Seo and Barrett, there are two factors that determine how emotions influence decision making: how people experience their emotions and what they do with them. The "how" refers to the intensity or strength of a given individual's emotional experiences. "What they do with them" refers to the level of emotional awareness of a given individual and the degree to which his feelings influence his judgment.
This model acknowledges that emotions have the potential to interfere with one's ability to make good decisions; they can influence our perceptions and create bias. As an example: Suppose a person is extremely uncomfortable with risk and uncertainty. He is presented with an investment opportunity that entails a small level of risk over the short term but a strong likelihood of success over the long term. He is uncomfortable with uncertainty; whenever he thinks about the risk associated with this opportunity he becomes anxious. Instead of taking advantage of this opportunity he instead selects a no risk option, even though this selection will earn him less money. His decision to go with the less favorable (and less rational) option is based entirely on his anxiety.
On the other hand, when given a proper role emotions can be an essential part of the decision making process. Research, in fact, suggests that it might be impossible to take emotion out of the equation. One study included participants with impairment in brain areas associated with perception of emotion. When presented with several options and given factual information about each, they found it difficult to develop a preference for any one option over another. As it turns out, preference is, at its core, an emotion. Without emotional input, one cannot develop preferences; it is quite difficult to make decisions without preferences.
In summary, emotions can both facilitate and interfere with good decision making. What do we do with this apparent contradiction? Fortunately, there is a (relatively) simple solution. The key is emotional awareness (mindfulness of emotions). Studies show that the impact of emotional bias on decision making is completely negated when people can recognize their feelings and reflect upon their relevance to the situation at hand.
Using the earlier example, a person could say, "I'm feeling anxious about taking this risk. This is probably because I am uncomfortable with uncertainty; taking risks always makes me anxious. My anxiety is based on habit, not on fact. I will take the risk because it is the better option."
Here's a link to an article that gives some good tips on using emotion in the decision making process:
http://scholar.harvard.edu/files/jenniferlerner/files/govt_exec_edit_6-151_ks_999wds-_pz_6-28.docx.final_.pdf
If reason is the foundation of good decision making, emotion is perceived as its enemy. Emotional decisions are seen as impulsive, reactive, and irrational. Emotions are thought to interfere with making good decisions by distorting the salience of particular information, thus creating bias in the decision maker. We are therefore encouraged to set our feelings aside when making decisions, lest they interfere with the process.
Science has started to challenge these assumptions in recent years. There exists a growing body of evidence suggesting that - far from interfering with the decision making process - emotions are an invaluable source of information.
According to Seo and Barrett, there are two factors that determine how emotions influence decision making: how people experience their emotions and what they do with them. The "how" refers to the intensity or strength of a given individual's emotional experiences. "What they do with them" refers to the level of emotional awareness of a given individual and the degree to which his feelings influence his judgment.
This model acknowledges that emotions have the potential to interfere with one's ability to make good decisions; they can influence our perceptions and create bias. As an example: Suppose a person is extremely uncomfortable with risk and uncertainty. He is presented with an investment opportunity that entails a small level of risk over the short term but a strong likelihood of success over the long term. He is uncomfortable with uncertainty; whenever he thinks about the risk associated with this opportunity he becomes anxious. Instead of taking advantage of this opportunity he instead selects a no risk option, even though this selection will earn him less money. His decision to go with the less favorable (and less rational) option is based entirely on his anxiety.
On the other hand, when given a proper role emotions can be an essential part of the decision making process. Research, in fact, suggests that it might be impossible to take emotion out of the equation. One study included participants with impairment in brain areas associated with perception of emotion. When presented with several options and given factual information about each, they found it difficult to develop a preference for any one option over another. As it turns out, preference is, at its core, an emotion. Without emotional input, one cannot develop preferences; it is quite difficult to make decisions without preferences.
In summary, emotions can both facilitate and interfere with good decision making. What do we do with this apparent contradiction? Fortunately, there is a (relatively) simple solution. The key is emotional awareness (mindfulness of emotions). Studies show that the impact of emotional bias on decision making is completely negated when people can recognize their feelings and reflect upon their relevance to the situation at hand.
Using the earlier example, a person could say, "I'm feeling anxious about taking this risk. This is probably because I am uncomfortable with uncertainty; taking risks always makes me anxious. My anxiety is based on habit, not on fact. I will take the risk because it is the better option."
Here's a link to an article that gives some good tips on using emotion in the decision making process:
http://scholar.harvard.edu/files/jenniferlerner/files/govt_exec_edit_6-151_ks_999wds-_pz_6-28.docx.final_.pdf
Sunday, March 17, 2013
More than happiness...
I recently read an article on theatlantic.com by Emily Estafani Smith called, "There's More to Life than Being Happy" (http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2013/01/theres-more-to-life-than-being-happy/266805/). As a psychotherapist, happiness is definitely a topic of great interest to me. In fact, most of my patients come to me in pursuit of happiness. Of course, "happiness" means different things to different people. For many of my patients, happiness means the absence (or even the lessening) of suffering. For others, happiness suggests the presence of a particular emotional state (accompanied by whatever else is necessary to achieve that state).
Americans place a great deal of value on individual happiness. The right of every man to pursue happiness is one of the central tenets upon which the country was founded. I doubt, however, that this is solely an American phenomenon. Among the core values of many nations (particular western nations) is the happiness of its citizens.
In some ways, then, Smith's assertion that there are more worthy goals in life than happiness is quite radical. What other aspiration is worthy of the time and effort we devote to seeking pleasure?
Smith suggests that having a sense of purpose or meaning in life is far more powerful than mere happiness. According to Smith, our single-minded focus on personal happiness creates a shallow and superficial existence. There is also evidence to suggest that setting happiness as one's primary aspiration is counter-productive; it actually makes us less happy.
While happiness is characterized by attaining pleasure for oneself, meaning is found in doing things for others. This explains why the things we find meaningful in life are not necessarily the things we most enjoy doing.
Still, people who say they have a purpose in life tend to report higher levels of overall well being than those who say they lack purpose. Happiness is dependent upon pleasure. Could it be that happiness, like pleasure, is fleeting?
In contrast, meaning tends to have a longer-term focus, which could explain its correlation with overall well being.
For me, Smith's article was an apt reminder not to get too consumed by the idea of happiness. Happiness is, after all, a natural byproduct of living a meaningful life. As such, it need not be pursued for its own sake.
Americans place a great deal of value on individual happiness. The right of every man to pursue happiness is one of the central tenets upon which the country was founded. I doubt, however, that this is solely an American phenomenon. Among the core values of many nations (particular western nations) is the happiness of its citizens.
In some ways, then, Smith's assertion that there are more worthy goals in life than happiness is quite radical. What other aspiration is worthy of the time and effort we devote to seeking pleasure?
Smith suggests that having a sense of purpose or meaning in life is far more powerful than mere happiness. According to Smith, our single-minded focus on personal happiness creates a shallow and superficial existence. There is also evidence to suggest that setting happiness as one's primary aspiration is counter-productive; it actually makes us less happy.
While happiness is characterized by attaining pleasure for oneself, meaning is found in doing things for others. This explains why the things we find meaningful in life are not necessarily the things we most enjoy doing.
Still, people who say they have a purpose in life tend to report higher levels of overall well being than those who say they lack purpose. Happiness is dependent upon pleasure. Could it be that happiness, like pleasure, is fleeting?
In contrast, meaning tends to have a longer-term focus, which could explain its correlation with overall well being.
For me, Smith's article was an apt reminder not to get too consumed by the idea of happiness. Happiness is, after all, a natural byproduct of living a meaningful life. As such, it need not be pursued for its own sake.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
What we say without words
Language is the most valuable communication tool we have. Still, we manage to say a lot without using words, sometimes without even realizing it. A recent incident really drove this point home for me.
My husband and I had gotten into an argument. A day or two later, we sat down to talk about what happened and how to prevent such disagreements from getting out of hand in the future. "I was angry," my husband said. "I know that when I get angry like that, the best thing for me to do is walk away. That way, I won't end up saying something I'll regret later."
Of course this is a good strategy. In fact, it's exactly what I tell my patients to do. When you're too angry to think rationally, take a break and come back later. In this particular instance, however, I had a problem with this technique.
"You became enraged as soon as I brought up the problem!" I exclaimed. "How are we ever going to talk about our problems if you get angry the moment I bring it up?" On the day of the argument, I'd carefully chosen my words in an effort to avoid being blaming or confrontational. I'd spent a lot of time thinking about how to approach my concerns without sounding critical or making him defensive. Despite my efforts, my husband immediately became angry when I tried to discuss the issue.
From my perspective, my husband was completely out of line. He needed to work on not getting so angry. Otherwise, how were we ever going to resolve conflict in our marriage? I conveyed my thoughts to my husband.
"I didn't get angry because of what you said," he replied.
This was certainly unexpected. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"It was the look on your face!" he explained. "Your words were fine. But you looked at me like I was the most disgusting thing on earth."
I had no doubt that what my husband said was true. I've never been able to hide my emotions; I'm too nonverbally expressive. I apologized to my husband. I also made a mental note to pay more attention to my nonverbal communication.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Laws of Emotion
In his 1988 article, Nico Frijda proposed several "laws" that govern human emotion. Reason, he explained, is not the opposite of emotion. To the contrary, emotions appear to follow certain "laws," akin to the "laws of nature" that govern various aspects of the physical world.
Emotions form the very core of my work as a psychotherapist; psychological wounds cannot be healed by rational thought alone. And yet, emotions can be difficult, distressing, or deeply confusing - for everyone, myself included. Part of my job is to guide others through a sea of complicated emotions without overwhelming them.
It helps me to understand how emotions function, which is why I found Frijda's work so interesting. In all, Frijda identifies twelve laws of emotion; I have no intention of discussing them all, at least not today. Rather, I thought I'd talk about a few of the laws that seem most relevant to my work (and quite frankly, to my personal life as well).
The Law of Habituation: Repeated or continued exposure to any given emotion decreases the intensity of that emotion. Consider the popular adage, "Time heals all wounds." This truism is not entirely accurate. It is not time but habituation that causes the pain of loss to abate over time. Unfortunately, it is not only pain that loses its edge with the passage of time; so too does pleasure. Upon accomplishing a long sought after goal, we initially experience a surge of pride, excitement, and satisfaction. These feelings fade once the novelty of the situation wears off. Love, romance, and passion are similarly intoxicating in the early stages of a romantic relationship; over time, however, we habituate to these emotions, causing them to gradually lose their lustre. The law of habituation also explains why people who repeatedly bear witness to the cruel and inhumane treatment of others eventually become impervious to human suffering.
While there are no constraints on the amount of pleasure to which we can habituate, the same cannot be said for suffering. Frijda explains this rather eloquently: "There exists, it would seem, misery that one does not get used to." He calls this phenomenon the law of hedonic asymmetry. The basic premise is this: we habituate to even the most intense feelings of pleasure, which therefore abate with continued exposure. Pain, on the ohter hand, will persist unabated in the presence of continued adverse circumstances. (I'll talk about why this is some other time).
So satisfaction "wears off" but pain never does. How depressing is that? But Frijda suggests -- almost as an afterthought -- that the outcomes of these laws are not inevitable. He goes on to say something very profound, a truth that seems to resurface again and again. "Adaptation to satisfaction," he explains. "Can be counteracted by constantly being aware of how fortunate one's condition is and of how it could have been otherwise...by rekindling impact through recollection and imagination." Frijda is telling us to practice gratitude. If we make time each day to think about and appreciate the good things in our lives, we can renew and invigorate our feelings of happiness and satisfaction.
Emotions form the very core of my work as a psychotherapist; psychological wounds cannot be healed by rational thought alone. And yet, emotions can be difficult, distressing, or deeply confusing - for everyone, myself included. Part of my job is to guide others through a sea of complicated emotions without overwhelming them.
It helps me to understand how emotions function, which is why I found Frijda's work so interesting. In all, Frijda identifies twelve laws of emotion; I have no intention of discussing them all, at least not today. Rather, I thought I'd talk about a few of the laws that seem most relevant to my work (and quite frankly, to my personal life as well).
The Law of Habituation: Repeated or continued exposure to any given emotion decreases the intensity of that emotion. Consider the popular adage, "Time heals all wounds." This truism is not entirely accurate. It is not time but habituation that causes the pain of loss to abate over time. Unfortunately, it is not only pain that loses its edge with the passage of time; so too does pleasure. Upon accomplishing a long sought after goal, we initially experience a surge of pride, excitement, and satisfaction. These feelings fade once the novelty of the situation wears off. Love, romance, and passion are similarly intoxicating in the early stages of a romantic relationship; over time, however, we habituate to these emotions, causing them to gradually lose their lustre. The law of habituation also explains why people who repeatedly bear witness to the cruel and inhumane treatment of others eventually become impervious to human suffering.
While there are no constraints on the amount of pleasure to which we can habituate, the same cannot be said for suffering. Frijda explains this rather eloquently: "There exists, it would seem, misery that one does not get used to." He calls this phenomenon the law of hedonic asymmetry. The basic premise is this: we habituate to even the most intense feelings of pleasure, which therefore abate with continued exposure. Pain, on the ohter hand, will persist unabated in the presence of continued adverse circumstances. (I'll talk about why this is some other time).
So satisfaction "wears off" but pain never does. How depressing is that? But Frijda suggests -- almost as an afterthought -- that the outcomes of these laws are not inevitable. He goes on to say something very profound, a truth that seems to resurface again and again. "Adaptation to satisfaction," he explains. "Can be counteracted by constantly being aware of how fortunate one's condition is and of how it could have been otherwise...by rekindling impact through recollection and imagination." Frijda is telling us to practice gratitude. If we make time each day to think about and appreciate the good things in our lives, we can renew and invigorate our feelings of happiness and satisfaction.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Is it possible not to have feelings?
A lot of my patients describe themselves as "emotionally detached." Some of them tell me they've always been this way. Others nostagically recall a time when things were different and find it disturbing that they can no longer experience emotion.
A healthy emotional life is essential to overall well being. Apart from enrigching our lives, emotions are important sources of information. Emotions enable us to respond quickly to situations we don't yet understand. They help us to evaluate new situations and unfamiliar environments. They allow us to quickly identify what is important in a given situation and what is not; they direct our attention towards certain stimuli and away from others. In short, emotions help us function.
Unfortunately, they also have the potential to create significant problems. No one (or almost no one) is born emotionally detached. To feel is part of the natural human condition. There are, however, circumstances and events that can occur during childhood that interfere with healthy emotional development. There are also events that occur later in life that are so distressing that they completely disrupt pre-existing emotional processes, even for those with very healthy emotional functioning.
Whenever I encounter a patient who has disconnected himself from his feelings I make adequate emotional functioning a primary goal of our work together. I only occasionally get any resistance. Most people realize that something is missing from their lives and are eager to do what they must to rememdy the situation. "You have emotions," I always assure them. "You just don't notice them anymore."
I sincerely believe this. I do not think it is possible for a human being to be completely devoid of emotional experience. I do, however, believe that a person can be so detached from his emitions (for whatever eason) as to be completely unaware they exist. If he wants to reconnect with his feelings, I explain, the first thing he must do is tune in. But how does he do this? What steps does he take?
In my experience, the best strategies come from something call emotion-focused therapy. (It's also known as process-experiential therapy). Emotion focused therapy identifies what it calls "adaptive strategies for accessing emotion." These strategies represent healthy ways to experience and respond to emotion:
1. Pay attention to emotion-related body sensations. I often ask patients to set aside anywhere from one to five minutes twice a day to mentally scan their body from head to toe. I give them a little chart and ask them to write down any physical sensations they notice in any part of their body, no matter how small. I also given them a list of sensations that are commonly associated with specific emotions (for example, tightening of the chest for anxiety or a knot in the pit of the stomach for depression). The goal is just to get them to start paying attention. Emotions happen in our bodies. We call them feelings because we physuically feel them. All we have to do is pay attention.
2. Recall past emotion episodes. There are a lot of different ways to do this. I might ask someone to tell me about a memory of a time they felt happy or excited. I might ask them to write a story describing a time they felt sad. In any event, I try to get them to recall exactly what they felt in that moment, essentially re-creating the past emotional experience.
3. Expose yourself to vivid emotional cues. This could mean watching old movies of a loved one who is now deceased. It could be describing something in such detail that a person can practically see it in his mind.
4. Enact emotions by expressing them physically: Most emotions are accompanied by the urge to act. Fear produces the urge to remove ourselves from danger. Anger creates the urge to forcefully remove the object of our anger. Anxiety is an action inhibitor and so generates the urge not to act. Desire creates the urge to approach, possess, or consume the object of our desire. Emotions also tend to be associated with certain facial expressions. For people who are accustomed to suppressing their emotions, enacting them physically through symbolic action or exaggerated facial expressions can help them become more comfortable with them.
A healthy emotional life is essential to overall well being. Apart from enrigching our lives, emotions are important sources of information. Emotions enable us to respond quickly to situations we don't yet understand. They help us to evaluate new situations and unfamiliar environments. They allow us to quickly identify what is important in a given situation and what is not; they direct our attention towards certain stimuli and away from others. In short, emotions help us function.
Unfortunately, they also have the potential to create significant problems. No one (or almost no one) is born emotionally detached. To feel is part of the natural human condition. There are, however, circumstances and events that can occur during childhood that interfere with healthy emotional development. There are also events that occur later in life that are so distressing that they completely disrupt pre-existing emotional processes, even for those with very healthy emotional functioning.
Whenever I encounter a patient who has disconnected himself from his feelings I make adequate emotional functioning a primary goal of our work together. I only occasionally get any resistance. Most people realize that something is missing from their lives and are eager to do what they must to rememdy the situation. "You have emotions," I always assure them. "You just don't notice them anymore."
I sincerely believe this. I do not think it is possible for a human being to be completely devoid of emotional experience. I do, however, believe that a person can be so detached from his emitions (for whatever eason) as to be completely unaware they exist. If he wants to reconnect with his feelings, I explain, the first thing he must do is tune in. But how does he do this? What steps does he take?
In my experience, the best strategies come from something call emotion-focused therapy. (It's also known as process-experiential therapy). Emotion focused therapy identifies what it calls "adaptive strategies for accessing emotion." These strategies represent healthy ways to experience and respond to emotion:
1. Pay attention to emotion-related body sensations. I often ask patients to set aside anywhere from one to five minutes twice a day to mentally scan their body from head to toe. I give them a little chart and ask them to write down any physical sensations they notice in any part of their body, no matter how small. I also given them a list of sensations that are commonly associated with specific emotions (for example, tightening of the chest for anxiety or a knot in the pit of the stomach for depression). The goal is just to get them to start paying attention. Emotions happen in our bodies. We call them feelings because we physuically feel them. All we have to do is pay attention.
2. Recall past emotion episodes. There are a lot of different ways to do this. I might ask someone to tell me about a memory of a time they felt happy or excited. I might ask them to write a story describing a time they felt sad. In any event, I try to get them to recall exactly what they felt in that moment, essentially re-creating the past emotional experience.
3. Expose yourself to vivid emotional cues. This could mean watching old movies of a loved one who is now deceased. It could be describing something in such detail that a person can practically see it in his mind.
4. Enact emotions by expressing them physically: Most emotions are accompanied by the urge to act. Fear produces the urge to remove ourselves from danger. Anger creates the urge to forcefully remove the object of our anger. Anxiety is an action inhibitor and so generates the urge not to act. Desire creates the urge to approach, possess, or consume the object of our desire. Emotions also tend to be associated with certain facial expressions. For people who are accustomed to suppressing their emotions, enacting them physically through symbolic action or exaggerated facial expressions can help them become more comfortable with them.
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