I have a strong aversion to habitual liars. I'm talking about people who make up stories about the places they've been, the things they've done, and the feats they've accomplished. These are people who lie about stupid things - for example, they tell you they grew up in Seattle when they've never seen the West Coast. I don't like having to dig for the truth when I talk to someone. I don't like having to view everything someone tells me with suspicion. And most of all, I don't like being lied to. Discovering you've been deceived is painful. You feel angry, hurt, and betrayed. You feel embarassed about being played for a fool. You second guess yourself and your judgment.
But are habitual liars - pathological liars - all that different from the rest of us? Everyone lies. We may, as a society, condemn lying. We may say we value honesty. And maybe we do. But we still lie.
Apparently, lying is normal. We all do it and most of us do it quite frequently. Studies have shown that the average adult tells at least one lie per day. Mostly we lie to benefit ourselves (according to DePaulo, Kashy, Kirkendol, Wyer, and Epstein). We lie to enhance our reputations, to avoid undesirable consequences, or to gain an edge over others. Perhaps this is a natural consequence of individualism. If the needs of the individual are primary then anything that benefits the individual over the group is useful. Since lying often gives the individual an advantage over the whole, the individual sees lying as acceptable, or at least justifiable.
While most of our lies are self-centered, we also lie to benefit others. We do this mostly to spare the feelings of people we love ("That dress looks great on you," "This dinner you made is delicious," "I love the gift you gave me"). When we lie about our feelings we generally do so to benefit others and typically pretend to feel more positively than we actually do.
Saxe points out that lying is often situationally determined. Circumstances that increase the likelihood of lying include those in which the risk of getting caught lying is low, the potential benefits of lying are high, and the potential consequences of being honest are severe.
So if lying is such a widespread practice, at what point does it become "pathological?" Dike explains the difference between "normal" and "pathological" lying. Oridnary lying is goal directed; it is done for a specific purpose with a desired outcome in mind. Pathological lying has no identifiable purpose or, if it does, the lie is extremely disproportional to the benefit expected to be gained. Sometimes the lies are even damaging to the person telling them. For a pathological liar the benefit is psychological; lying in itself is rewarding.
What kind of person enjoys telling lies? Bursten suggests those with a "manipulative personality." According to Bursten, someone with a manipulative personality has a fragile self-image. He attempts to bolster this image by proving to himself that he is "better" than others. By telling lies and getting away with them, he gains a sense of power over those he deceives. He feels a level of contempt for his victims for lacking the ability to detect his deception. This enables him to feel superior.
Before we judge the pathological liar too harshly we should first consider the following. Pathological liars may not be able to control their lying. Some experts suspect lying is compulsive for the pathological liar. He lies in spite of himself; he cannot help it.
There may also be something different about the brains of pathological liars. Several studies have demonstrated a relationship between pathological lying and increaed white matter in the prefrontal cortex.
So what have I learned about pathological liars? Mostly I've learned that we don't know much. There is a lack of consensus among experts about how even to define the term "pathological liar." We don't know if pathological lying is a disorder unto itself or if it exists only as a symptom of other disorders. We aren't sure how much, if any, control pathological liars have over their lying. We don't even know if pathological liars always know they are lying!
What I do know is my own preference, which is to be lied to as rarely as possible.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
We can't handle the truth! Self deception and why we lie to ourselves
We all lie to ourselves. Some of us do it more than others but all of us do it. There are obvious disadvantages to self deception. When we deceive ourselves about the nature of reality we are ill-equipped to cope with the problems reality presents. We can't deal with a reality we don't know exists. This makes us vulnerable to threats we don't see until it is too late. We are more likely to be blindsided by misfortune for which we could have prepared if we'd been more honest with ourselves. When extreme, self deception becomes obvious to others, who respond with anything from pity to ridicule. And yet, despite these disadvantages, we all engage in self deception.
So why do we do it? The most widely accepted theory is that - in certain circumstances - self deception serves a protective function. For example, self deception can preserve confidence and self esteem in the face of failure. In the aftermath of tragedy or trauma, self deception can preserve a sense of safety and security we need to move forward. Self deception can motivate us to persevere when the odds are against us. Self deception can help us endure hardship and maintain hope for the future. When the truth is too much to bear we lie to ourselves instead.
On the surface, self deception seems like a paradox. I'll explain. Technically, deception is an intentional act. If I do something intentionally then by definition I am aware that I am doing it. To deceive myself is to intentionally tell myself something that is not true. But if I do this intentionally then I must be aware I am doing it. If I know I am telling myself a lie then don't I also know the truth? And if I know the truth then I haven't really deceived myself, right?
The question, then, is how can someone lie to himself and not know it? To my surprise, there are actually a number of ways this can happen. One method involves information processing and attention. A person can deceive himself by encoding only desirable or welcome information into memory while preventing unwelcome or undesirable information from being encoded. This is essentially a matter of "selective attention," i.e. paying attention to certain aspects of available information while ignoring the rest. This can be done on a conscious level, an unconscious level, or somewhere in between; we may or may not be fully aware of what we're doing.
Another method of self deception is through avoidance. I can keep myself uninformed of information or truths I do not want to know by avoiding activities, situations, or circumstances that might reveal them to me. For example, a wife can avoid discovering her husband's affair by not calling him at work when he claims to be working late. If she did call his work she would be told he'd left hours ago. But she doesn't call because she doesn't want to know.
Self deception can also occur via biased interpretation. Imagine I am presented with a large amount of information, some of which confirms my stance on a particular subject and some that contradicts it. I accept the information that affirms my stance as empirically valid. I decide the information contradicting my stance comes from an unreliable source and is therefore not valid. I may reach this conclusions even if all of the information comes from the same source. Self deception does not necessarally follow the rules of logic.
I'll end with a couple of principles of self deception:
*People do not tell themselves the whole truth if a partial truth is preferable.
*In self deception, people tend to be motivated by what they want to be true.
So why do we do it? The most widely accepted theory is that - in certain circumstances - self deception serves a protective function. For example, self deception can preserve confidence and self esteem in the face of failure. In the aftermath of tragedy or trauma, self deception can preserve a sense of safety and security we need to move forward. Self deception can motivate us to persevere when the odds are against us. Self deception can help us endure hardship and maintain hope for the future. When the truth is too much to bear we lie to ourselves instead.
On the surface, self deception seems like a paradox. I'll explain. Technically, deception is an intentional act. If I do something intentionally then by definition I am aware that I am doing it. To deceive myself is to intentionally tell myself something that is not true. But if I do this intentionally then I must be aware I am doing it. If I know I am telling myself a lie then don't I also know the truth? And if I know the truth then I haven't really deceived myself, right?
The question, then, is how can someone lie to himself and not know it? To my surprise, there are actually a number of ways this can happen. One method involves information processing and attention. A person can deceive himself by encoding only desirable or welcome information into memory while preventing unwelcome or undesirable information from being encoded. This is essentially a matter of "selective attention," i.e. paying attention to certain aspects of available information while ignoring the rest. This can be done on a conscious level, an unconscious level, or somewhere in between; we may or may not be fully aware of what we're doing.
Another method of self deception is through avoidance. I can keep myself uninformed of information or truths I do not want to know by avoiding activities, situations, or circumstances that might reveal them to me. For example, a wife can avoid discovering her husband's affair by not calling him at work when he claims to be working late. If she did call his work she would be told he'd left hours ago. But she doesn't call because she doesn't want to know.
Self deception can also occur via biased interpretation. Imagine I am presented with a large amount of information, some of which confirms my stance on a particular subject and some that contradicts it. I accept the information that affirms my stance as empirically valid. I decide the information contradicting my stance comes from an unreliable source and is therefore not valid. I may reach this conclusions even if all of the information comes from the same source. Self deception does not necessarally follow the rules of logic.
I'll end with a couple of principles of self deception:
*People do not tell themselves the whole truth if a partial truth is preferable.
*In self deception, people tend to be motivated by what they want to be true.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
A "Good" Apology
Dov Seidman nostalgically recalls a time when apologies really meant something. These days, he believes apology has become a sort of theater. This is particularly true for public figures, whose apologies more and more frequently seem like performances rather than genuine expressions of remorse. Seidman contends that the behavior of public figures simply reflects a broader societal norm. According to Seidman, people today use apologies as a "verbal escape route" or a way to "get out of jail cheaply." This trend has so cheapened the apology that it has become all but meaningless.
And so Dov Seidman, together with Andrew Ross Sorkin, have started a campaign to draw attention to the current "aplogy crisis." Their project is called "Apology Watch" and can be found at nytimes.com/dealbook. and on Twitter under the hashtage #ApologyWatch. Seidman and Sorkin are asking readers to help them track new public apologies in real time. The plan is to rate each apology on its level of overall sincerity.
I first heard about Apology Watch on NPR. I was immediately intrigued at the idea. As I do with most things that spark my interest, I decided to do a little research on the topic. While the focus of Apology Watch is primarily on people in the public arena, I am personally more interested in the function of apologies in interpersonal relationships. Still, I hoped that some of Seidman's ideas might be applicable on both the large and small scale.
Seidman believes that the sincerity of a given apology can be measured not so much by its content but by what comes both before and after it. Before issuing an apology, Seidman contends, an offender should take the time to do some soul searching. A good apology first requires a period of introspection.
An example of this, Seidman says, is the 2011 apology made by Netflix CEO Reed Hastings for raising subscription rates. The rate increase sparked an immediate backlash from consumers, who cancelled their subscriptions in droves. Stock prices fell over 7% in the weeks after the decision was announced. Two months after implementing the rate increase CEO Hastings issued an apology and restored prices to their original level. Hastings' apology was good, explains Seidman, because it began with "a complete vulnerable revelation" (i.e., success had made him arrogant and that this arrogance motivated his decision to raise prices). Seidman believes that Hastings could only have come to this realization by looking inside himself and being honest about what he found (i.e., introspection).
Seidman's suggestion, then, is that before issuing an apology an offender should take a complete moral inventory of himself. Ken Blanchard and Margaret McBride suggest an offender ask himself the following:
*What mistakes did I make?
*Did I dismiss the feelings, wishes, or ideas of another person?
*Why did I do this?
*Was it an impulsive thoughtless behavior?
*Or was it calcualted?
*Did I act out of fear, anger, or frustration?
*What was my motivation?
*How long did I let this go on? Has this behavior become a repeated pattern in my life?
*What truth am I not dealing with?
*Am I better than this behavior?
So according to Seidman, a period of introspection, self-examination, etc. should be undertaken before offering an apology. There are also certain things that should come after a genuine apology.
Seidman states that a genuine apology must be followed by intentional and sustained changes in behavior. If an apology is sincere, the person apologizing immediately begins to take action to repair, mitigate, or at least atone for whatever damage he has caused.
So often people want forgiveness but are unwilling to accept the consequences of their actions. Saying I'm sorry does not immediately restore trust once it has been betrayed; the restoration of trust takes time. The victim of a betrayal may need the offender to take certain steps to demonstrate his trustworthiness, above and beyond what would otherwise be expected. The offending party does not get to dictate what measures are "reasonable" or how much time it should take before trust is regained. If he is genuinely sorry and truly wants forgiveness he must be willling to do whatever it takes for however long it takes. These are the consequences of his actions. Aplogizing does not exempt him from these consequences.
This is something Seidman does not mention in his writing but that I think is relevant. Perhaps we, as a society, let people off too easily. Maybe we are too willing to forgive and forget once a public figure apologizes for bad behavior. A movie star does something appalling; we still watch his movies. A CEO takes advantage of his customers; we still buy his products or services. A company abuses its employees; we continue to shop there. A chemical company dumps toxins in the water supply? A slap on the wrist and a license to keep operating. We no longer hold anyone accountable. We're probably lucky that people bother to apologize at all.
And so Dov Seidman, together with Andrew Ross Sorkin, have started a campaign to draw attention to the current "aplogy crisis." Their project is called "Apology Watch" and can be found at nytimes.com/dealbook. and on Twitter under the hashtage #ApologyWatch. Seidman and Sorkin are asking readers to help them track new public apologies in real time. The plan is to rate each apology on its level of overall sincerity.
I first heard about Apology Watch on NPR. I was immediately intrigued at the idea. As I do with most things that spark my interest, I decided to do a little research on the topic. While the focus of Apology Watch is primarily on people in the public arena, I am personally more interested in the function of apologies in interpersonal relationships. Still, I hoped that some of Seidman's ideas might be applicable on both the large and small scale.
Seidman believes that the sincerity of a given apology can be measured not so much by its content but by what comes both before and after it. Before issuing an apology, Seidman contends, an offender should take the time to do some soul searching. A good apology first requires a period of introspection.
An example of this, Seidman says, is the 2011 apology made by Netflix CEO Reed Hastings for raising subscription rates. The rate increase sparked an immediate backlash from consumers, who cancelled their subscriptions in droves. Stock prices fell over 7% in the weeks after the decision was announced. Two months after implementing the rate increase CEO Hastings issued an apology and restored prices to their original level. Hastings' apology was good, explains Seidman, because it began with "a complete vulnerable revelation" (i.e., success had made him arrogant and that this arrogance motivated his decision to raise prices). Seidman believes that Hastings could only have come to this realization by looking inside himself and being honest about what he found (i.e., introspection).
Seidman's suggestion, then, is that before issuing an apology an offender should take a complete moral inventory of himself. Ken Blanchard and Margaret McBride suggest an offender ask himself the following:
*What mistakes did I make?
*Did I dismiss the feelings, wishes, or ideas of another person?
*Why did I do this?
*Was it an impulsive thoughtless behavior?
*Or was it calcualted?
*Did I act out of fear, anger, or frustration?
*What was my motivation?
*How long did I let this go on? Has this behavior become a repeated pattern in my life?
*What truth am I not dealing with?
*Am I better than this behavior?
So according to Seidman, a period of introspection, self-examination, etc. should be undertaken before offering an apology. There are also certain things that should come after a genuine apology.
Seidman states that a genuine apology must be followed by intentional and sustained changes in behavior. If an apology is sincere, the person apologizing immediately begins to take action to repair, mitigate, or at least atone for whatever damage he has caused.
So often people want forgiveness but are unwilling to accept the consequences of their actions. Saying I'm sorry does not immediately restore trust once it has been betrayed; the restoration of trust takes time. The victim of a betrayal may need the offender to take certain steps to demonstrate his trustworthiness, above and beyond what would otherwise be expected. The offending party does not get to dictate what measures are "reasonable" or how much time it should take before trust is regained. If he is genuinely sorry and truly wants forgiveness he must be willling to do whatever it takes for however long it takes. These are the consequences of his actions. Aplogizing does not exempt him from these consequences.
This is something Seidman does not mention in his writing but that I think is relevant. Perhaps we, as a society, let people off too easily. Maybe we are too willing to forgive and forget once a public figure apologizes for bad behavior. A movie star does something appalling; we still watch his movies. A CEO takes advantage of his customers; we still buy his products or services. A company abuses its employees; we continue to shop there. A chemical company dumps toxins in the water supply? A slap on the wrist and a license to keep operating. We no longer hold anyone accountable. We're probably lucky that people bother to apologize at all.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Rigid Personality
My husband says I'm inflexible. He's not the first person to tell me this. I don't deny it. I have a strong preference for structure over chaos. It takes me a while to adjust to big changes. I am easily stressed out, even over small things. I like my space to be clean (or at least tidy). Messiness makes me feel like the room is closing in on me.
If something needs to be done I prefer to go ahead and do it as soon as possible; I rarely procrastinate. I like to plan activities and/or events in advance. I don't like spur of the moment invitations and will typically decline them. I am very attached to my routines. If there is somewhere I've planned to go at a particular time or something I do regularly on certain days I generally resist any attempts by other people to intefere.
So no, I am not particularly flexible. I can bend and I do bend, but only under a limited number of extenuating circumstances.
I admit that I can be too "rigid" at times. This sometimes leads to negative consequences. As I said before, I get stressed out a lot. I'm not always anxious but I do struggle with anxiety. I am stubborn to a fault. I become irritable and unpleasant when I feel overwhelmed.
My husband highlights these consequences and insists that I change. I'm too rigid, he says. I won't listen to reason. (I completely disagree with the latter sentiment. I do listen to reason. It's just that I do not always find his "reason" compelling. I listen to it and then I disagree. I have a right to disagree. It doesn't mean I'm unreasonable).
While I disagree with the crux of my husband's argument, buried within it lies a valid point. I can be too rigid.
And yet this very same quality bestows so many benefits. I am consistent, steady, and reliable. I get things done. I am responsible. I am conscientious. I am predictable. This may not make me the most exciting person in the world but I'm okay with that. People know what to expect from me; there is something comforting about that. I finish what I start; I follow through with committments. Because of this I have, for example, no difficulty exercising regularly and maintaining healthy eating habits. In fact, I don't really have a problem maintaing any positive habit, once it becomes a habit. I'm good at habits. Habits are my thing.
It is difficult for me to know where to draw the line. Yes I'm a bit rigid but to a certain degree this works well for me. It enables me to structure my life in a way that ensures I have time to devote to every important person, activity, event, and/or obligation. I realize, however, that being too rigid creates problems. Sometimes I refuse to budge, even when I know I'm making things more difficult than they have to be. There is definitely room for improvement.
When it comes to my marriage, I know that trying to be more flexible will decrease conflict and increase harmony. I also believe, however, that a great deal of benefit would come from my husband putting effort into trying to understand and accept me as I am, for who I am, instead of wanting me to be a different "type" or "kind" of person. (And that goes both ways, of course, i.e., me learning to accept him as he is). I am open to self-improvement but I can't be a different person. I don't want to be a different person. And I don't want anyone to pressure me into being anyone other than myself. If I say to my husband, "This is who I am. Please try to accept me," am I just being rigid and obstinate? I am confused at this point about whether I should be working on changing myself or encouraging him to to accept me as I am...
If something needs to be done I prefer to go ahead and do it as soon as possible; I rarely procrastinate. I like to plan activities and/or events in advance. I don't like spur of the moment invitations and will typically decline them. I am very attached to my routines. If there is somewhere I've planned to go at a particular time or something I do regularly on certain days I generally resist any attempts by other people to intefere.
So no, I am not particularly flexible. I can bend and I do bend, but only under a limited number of extenuating circumstances.
I admit that I can be too "rigid" at times. This sometimes leads to negative consequences. As I said before, I get stressed out a lot. I'm not always anxious but I do struggle with anxiety. I am stubborn to a fault. I become irritable and unpleasant when I feel overwhelmed.
My husband highlights these consequences and insists that I change. I'm too rigid, he says. I won't listen to reason. (I completely disagree with the latter sentiment. I do listen to reason. It's just that I do not always find his "reason" compelling. I listen to it and then I disagree. I have a right to disagree. It doesn't mean I'm unreasonable).
While I disagree with the crux of my husband's argument, buried within it lies a valid point. I can be too rigid.
And yet this very same quality bestows so many benefits. I am consistent, steady, and reliable. I get things done. I am responsible. I am conscientious. I am predictable. This may not make me the most exciting person in the world but I'm okay with that. People know what to expect from me; there is something comforting about that. I finish what I start; I follow through with committments. Because of this I have, for example, no difficulty exercising regularly and maintaining healthy eating habits. In fact, I don't really have a problem maintaing any positive habit, once it becomes a habit. I'm good at habits. Habits are my thing.
It is difficult for me to know where to draw the line. Yes I'm a bit rigid but to a certain degree this works well for me. It enables me to structure my life in a way that ensures I have time to devote to every important person, activity, event, and/or obligation. I realize, however, that being too rigid creates problems. Sometimes I refuse to budge, even when I know I'm making things more difficult than they have to be. There is definitely room for improvement.
When it comes to my marriage, I know that trying to be more flexible will decrease conflict and increase harmony. I also believe, however, that a great deal of benefit would come from my husband putting effort into trying to understand and accept me as I am, for who I am, instead of wanting me to be a different "type" or "kind" of person. (And that goes both ways, of course, i.e., me learning to accept him as he is). I am open to self-improvement but I can't be a different person. I don't want to be a different person. And I don't want anyone to pressure me into being anyone other than myself. If I say to my husband, "This is who I am. Please try to accept me," am I just being rigid and obstinate? I am confused at this point about whether I should be working on changing myself or encouraging him to to accept me as I am...
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Blaming yourself when bad things happen
I've talked before about the role of self-blame in maintaining depression. As I've read more on this topic I discvoered that self-blame is not always associated with depression. (I guess I don't really see those people who blame themselves but aren't depressed. They don't tend to need therapy). Based on personal experience, it seems like self-blame often provides people with a greater sense of control. If I did something wrong that caused something bad to happen then all I have to do to keep it from happening again in the future is to change my own behavior. For many of my patients, gaining this sense of control decreases anxiety but also causes a lot of guilt which, over time, leads to depression.
According to the research literature, however, this type of self-blame should not lead to depression. Peterson, Schwartz, and Seligman explain that attributing a negative event to one's own behavior increases perceived controllability (as I said before) and creates the sense that one's bad behavior was situation specific. (In other words, a person sees his behavior in a given situation as a one time thing. He doesn't see it as representative of a broader pattern of bad behavior or as a reflection of who he is as a person). Peterson et al. call this phenomenon "behavioral self blame" and describe it as an "attributional defense mechanism...[that is] inconsistent with depression."
So what gives? Why do I see so many depressed patients who blame their bad behavior for causing significant negative events? According to research, this sort of self-blame is a defense mechanism and should protect them from depression. Why does this not seem to be happening?
I don't have a definitive answer but I do have some ideas...
One thing that stands out to me is how many of my self-blaming patients seem unable to forgive themselves for making mistakes. Theoretically, attributing a negative event to their own behavior should boost their sense of control, leading to increased hopefulness about their ability to prevent similar events from taking place in the future. And yet, I don't often see hopefulness. Instead I see a tendency to dwell on perceived mistakes, which creates an overwhelming sense of guilt and self-doubt. It's difficult to feel hopeful about the future when you're busy condemning yourself for mistakes you made in the past. Part of "behavioral self blame" is "admitting I did something wrong." For some, making a mistake is simply unacceptable. In such cases, "behavioral self-blame" equates to perpertual self-condemnation; this inevitably leads to depression.
Or perhaps certain kinds of negative events are simply so terrible that normal rules don't apply. The negative events experienced by the majority of my patients fall into one of two categories: 1. Combat-related incidents in which one or more people were seriously injured and/or killed and 2. Sexual assault. Rape and violent death are more extreme than most other negative life events. Perhaps the reactions people have to these experiences are therefore more complex.
Another possiblity for some is their inability to identify what exactly they did wrong. That is, they have the general sense that they did something to cause a negative event but despite replaying the event in their minds again and again they are unable to identify a specific behavior that would explain what happened. They feel compelled to continue replaying the event in their minds in an effort to figure out exactly what they did wrong. I imagine the people who do this are people who have a pre-existing tendency to blame themselves when things go wrong; the drive to blame oneself in the absence of any evidence seems to suggest this.
These are just theories...
According to the research literature, however, this type of self-blame should not lead to depression. Peterson, Schwartz, and Seligman explain that attributing a negative event to one's own behavior increases perceived controllability (as I said before) and creates the sense that one's bad behavior was situation specific. (In other words, a person sees his behavior in a given situation as a one time thing. He doesn't see it as representative of a broader pattern of bad behavior or as a reflection of who he is as a person). Peterson et al. call this phenomenon "behavioral self blame" and describe it as an "attributional defense mechanism...[that is] inconsistent with depression."
So what gives? Why do I see so many depressed patients who blame their bad behavior for causing significant negative events? According to research, this sort of self-blame is a defense mechanism and should protect them from depression. Why does this not seem to be happening?
I don't have a definitive answer but I do have some ideas...
One thing that stands out to me is how many of my self-blaming patients seem unable to forgive themselves for making mistakes. Theoretically, attributing a negative event to their own behavior should boost their sense of control, leading to increased hopefulness about their ability to prevent similar events from taking place in the future. And yet, I don't often see hopefulness. Instead I see a tendency to dwell on perceived mistakes, which creates an overwhelming sense of guilt and self-doubt. It's difficult to feel hopeful about the future when you're busy condemning yourself for mistakes you made in the past. Part of "behavioral self blame" is "admitting I did something wrong." For some, making a mistake is simply unacceptable. In such cases, "behavioral self-blame" equates to perpertual self-condemnation; this inevitably leads to depression.
Or perhaps certain kinds of negative events are simply so terrible that normal rules don't apply. The negative events experienced by the majority of my patients fall into one of two categories: 1. Combat-related incidents in which one or more people were seriously injured and/or killed and 2. Sexual assault. Rape and violent death are more extreme than most other negative life events. Perhaps the reactions people have to these experiences are therefore more complex.
Another possiblity for some is their inability to identify what exactly they did wrong. That is, they have the general sense that they did something to cause a negative event but despite replaying the event in their minds again and again they are unable to identify a specific behavior that would explain what happened. They feel compelled to continue replaying the event in their minds in an effort to figure out exactly what they did wrong. I imagine the people who do this are people who have a pre-existing tendency to blame themselves when things go wrong; the drive to blame oneself in the absence of any evidence seems to suggest this.
These are just theories...
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Avoidance as a Coping Strategy
It's easy to understand why we tend to avoid certain situations, activities, people, or tasks that stress us out, make us uncomfortable, or otherwise generate negative emotions. Nobody wants to feel bad, especially if there is some way to avoid it. Thus, if there is a particular situation that creates anxiety we will most likely avoid that situation whenever possible. It makes sense. There's no reason to deliberately cause ourselves suffering.
Similarly, we are sometimes faced with problems that create distress whenever we think about them. To avoid distress we simply avoid thinking about the problem. Of course we are typically unable to do this indefinitely, but we can always put things off until the last possible moment.
Avoiding things that cause us discomfort can be an effective strategy. If there is a certain person who always manages to get under our skin it is best to deal with said person as little as possible. If we are under a lot of stress and feeling overwhelmed, waiting until later to deal with certain problems could be the best way to preserve our emotional and psychological well being. We have to prioritize. If certain places make us uncomfortable and we don't have to go there then avoiding these places is completely logical. If talking about certain topics upsets us and there is no compelling reason to do so then it makes perfect sense to avoid conversations about said topics. If there are certain memories that are unpleasant to recall it can be beneficial not to recall them.
There are also times when avoidance is a very ineffective strategy. A coping mechanism is ineffective when it creates more problems than it solves. Avoidance has the potential to become this kind of strategy. Because avoidance is so effective at alleviating distress we can inadvertantly begin to rely too heavily on it as a coping mechanism. Anything that alleviates distress is inherently reinforcing. We feel distress, we avoid, the distress is gone. We feel better. We avoid more.
So when is avoidance detrimental? What follows are a few examples. This list is by no means exhaustive.
*When avoiding discomfort or distress becomes the primary factor you consider when deciding whether or not to do something. (Avoiding distress becomes your primary motivation; everything else takes a back seat).
*When the list of things you won't do because they cause distress grows so long that the list of things you will do is actually shorter. (The end result is that you spend most of your time at home and only leave when there's something you absolutely have to do).
*When you put off dealing with a problem or conflict for so long that you end up simply not dealing with it at all. (The problem doesn't go away, of course. It probably gets worse while you are busy not dealing with it).
*When you avoid doing things you need to do or dealing with things you need to deal with, despite significant negative consequences for doing so.
*When avoiding starts to cause conflict in significant interpersonal relationships.
Similarly, we are sometimes faced with problems that create distress whenever we think about them. To avoid distress we simply avoid thinking about the problem. Of course we are typically unable to do this indefinitely, but we can always put things off until the last possible moment.
Avoiding things that cause us discomfort can be an effective strategy. If there is a certain person who always manages to get under our skin it is best to deal with said person as little as possible. If we are under a lot of stress and feeling overwhelmed, waiting until later to deal with certain problems could be the best way to preserve our emotional and psychological well being. We have to prioritize. If certain places make us uncomfortable and we don't have to go there then avoiding these places is completely logical. If talking about certain topics upsets us and there is no compelling reason to do so then it makes perfect sense to avoid conversations about said topics. If there are certain memories that are unpleasant to recall it can be beneficial not to recall them.
There are also times when avoidance is a very ineffective strategy. A coping mechanism is ineffective when it creates more problems than it solves. Avoidance has the potential to become this kind of strategy. Because avoidance is so effective at alleviating distress we can inadvertantly begin to rely too heavily on it as a coping mechanism. Anything that alleviates distress is inherently reinforcing. We feel distress, we avoid, the distress is gone. We feel better. We avoid more.
So when is avoidance detrimental? What follows are a few examples. This list is by no means exhaustive.
*When avoiding discomfort or distress becomes the primary factor you consider when deciding whether or not to do something. (Avoiding distress becomes your primary motivation; everything else takes a back seat).
*When the list of things you won't do because they cause distress grows so long that the list of things you will do is actually shorter. (The end result is that you spend most of your time at home and only leave when there's something you absolutely have to do).
*When you put off dealing with a problem or conflict for so long that you end up simply not dealing with it at all. (The problem doesn't go away, of course. It probably gets worse while you are busy not dealing with it).
*When you avoid doing things you need to do or dealing with things you need to deal with, despite significant negative consequences for doing so.
*When avoiding starts to cause conflict in significant interpersonal relationships.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Conflict, Argument, and Who's to Blame
A few weeks ago my husband and I had an argument. Things got kind of ugly and both of us ended up saying some not very nice things. After taking a few hours to regroup, we sat down to talk about what happened. I've mentioned before that my husband has a tendency to blame me when there's conflict in our relationship. In this particular instance, I'd clearly said and done some things that were hurtful. I was angry over what I felt were legitimate grievances but that didn't make my behavior okay. (Unfortunately, this was a conclusion I reached only in hindsight).
So when my husband sat down to talk things out the first thing I did was apologize. I admitted that my actions were inexcusable. My husband immediately agreed. He then proceeded to list a number of grievances he had with me. He concluded by asserting that anything he said or did that was upsetting to me was simply a natural reaction to having to deal with my bad behavior. He went on to say that if I would stop being so difficult to deal with then everything would be fine and we would get along perfectly.
I cannot completely capture how it feels to try to resolve a conflict with someone I love, to humble myself enough to admit I was wrong and to apologize for it, only to be told that I am the root of the problem. The most immediate emotion is anger. It feels like a slap in the face. I become defensive, like I have to justify myself or somehow prove my intentions are good. I feel frustrated. Sometimes I feel hopeless. "What's the point of trying to fix things?" I ask myself. "We never solve anything. He just ends up blaming me. Nothing changes." On several occasions I have ended the conversation at this point. I get pissed off and walk away. It doesn't solve anything but sometimes walking away seems like the only good option.
In this particular instance, however, walking away would have made things worse. So I told him it wasn't fair for him to place all the blame on me. "So you're saying that every argument is always both people's fault?" my husband asked.
I actually had to stop and think about this for a minute. In any given argument, are both parties at fault? Is this a rule that applies in all cases? Or are there arguments where one person is clearly to blame?
"Yes," I finally decided. "Because a disagreement doesn't have to turn into an argument," I explained. "And it always takes two people to argue. If one person refuses to engage then you can't have an argument," I added. I went on to qualify my statement. "I don't think both people are always equally to blame," I said. "There are times when one person clearly initiates an argument. The initiator would probably bear more responsibility in that case. But still, it takes two people to argue. If someone tries to start an argument and the other person won't take the bait then there's no argument. It's just one person acting like an asshole."
It is a tricky question though. I think most of us are inclinced to blame the other party when we get into any sort of conflict. This isn't always a bad thing. People are motivated to fight for something when they believe in the rightness of their cause.
It's different when the conflict is with someone you love. The best approach is probably just to agree to disagree, whenever possible. When this isn't possible compromise is the next best option. Of course this means that neither party gets everything they want and that both parties have to give something up. People are not always willing to do this.
I also think there is something to be said for acceptance. For example, I'm (begrudgingly) learning to accept that my husband is not going to actively participate in keeping our house neat and clean, no matter how often I ask him to help with these tasks. And he is (slowly) learning to accept that I become irritable when I'm stressed out and that unfortunately, I get stressed out pretty easily. Our tendency has been to get upset about these things again and again, to demand that the other change, and then to feel frustrated and disappointed when this doesn't happen. For me, it is extremely difficult to accept that my husband won't do something I think he should do. It makes me angry but not as much as it used to. I try to recognize the other ways he contributes to our lives. This is a work in progress.
So when my husband sat down to talk things out the first thing I did was apologize. I admitted that my actions were inexcusable. My husband immediately agreed. He then proceeded to list a number of grievances he had with me. He concluded by asserting that anything he said or did that was upsetting to me was simply a natural reaction to having to deal with my bad behavior. He went on to say that if I would stop being so difficult to deal with then everything would be fine and we would get along perfectly.
I cannot completely capture how it feels to try to resolve a conflict with someone I love, to humble myself enough to admit I was wrong and to apologize for it, only to be told that I am the root of the problem. The most immediate emotion is anger. It feels like a slap in the face. I become defensive, like I have to justify myself or somehow prove my intentions are good. I feel frustrated. Sometimes I feel hopeless. "What's the point of trying to fix things?" I ask myself. "We never solve anything. He just ends up blaming me. Nothing changes." On several occasions I have ended the conversation at this point. I get pissed off and walk away. It doesn't solve anything but sometimes walking away seems like the only good option.
In this particular instance, however, walking away would have made things worse. So I told him it wasn't fair for him to place all the blame on me. "So you're saying that every argument is always both people's fault?" my husband asked.
I actually had to stop and think about this for a minute. In any given argument, are both parties at fault? Is this a rule that applies in all cases? Or are there arguments where one person is clearly to blame?
"Yes," I finally decided. "Because a disagreement doesn't have to turn into an argument," I explained. "And it always takes two people to argue. If one person refuses to engage then you can't have an argument," I added. I went on to qualify my statement. "I don't think both people are always equally to blame," I said. "There are times when one person clearly initiates an argument. The initiator would probably bear more responsibility in that case. But still, it takes two people to argue. If someone tries to start an argument and the other person won't take the bait then there's no argument. It's just one person acting like an asshole."
It is a tricky question though. I think most of us are inclinced to blame the other party when we get into any sort of conflict. This isn't always a bad thing. People are motivated to fight for something when they believe in the rightness of their cause.
It's different when the conflict is with someone you love. The best approach is probably just to agree to disagree, whenever possible. When this isn't possible compromise is the next best option. Of course this means that neither party gets everything they want and that both parties have to give something up. People are not always willing to do this.
I also think there is something to be said for acceptance. For example, I'm (begrudgingly) learning to accept that my husband is not going to actively participate in keeping our house neat and clean, no matter how often I ask him to help with these tasks. And he is (slowly) learning to accept that I become irritable when I'm stressed out and that unfortunately, I get stressed out pretty easily. Our tendency has been to get upset about these things again and again, to demand that the other change, and then to feel frustrated and disappointed when this doesn't happen. For me, it is extremely difficult to accept that my husband won't do something I think he should do. It makes me angry but not as much as it used to. I try to recognize the other ways he contributes to our lives. This is a work in progress.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Shame and depression
I mentioned before that I was recently tasked to lead a therapy group focused on sexual assault, trauma, and depression. I did some background research to prepare. One thing that stood out to me is how frequently shame was mentioned as a factor contributing to depression. I mentioned this during the first group session. It seemed to resonate strongly with the group members. As they shared their experiences I spontaneously found myself talking about the "power of shame." I hadn't intended to go this route but it felt right. It ended up being a very powerful discussion.
In the ensuing days my thoughts repeatedly turned to the concept of shame. It's not something I've ever spent a lot of time talking about with patients, although it does come up in sessions. There are, however, certain treatment approaches to which the concept of shame is integral. John Bradshaw (http://www.johnbradshaw.com/) is probably the shame guru, if there is such a thing. His book, "Healing the Shame that Binds You," is a New York Times best seller. In it, Bradshaw points to "toxic shame" as the underlying cause of compulsions, addiction, co-dependencies, and the drive to super-achieve or underachieve."
Shame and guilt are often used interchangeably, which can sometimes cause confusion. For my purposes, I've decided to distinguish guilt and shame as follows:
*Guilt is a bad feeling caused by the fact of having committed a specific offense.
*Shame focuses on the entire self. It is a painful feeling arising from the judgment of oneself as dishonorable, disgraceful, disgusting, etc.
Thus, guilt is concerned with something specific a person has done. The focus of shame is on the self as a whole.
Like most human emotions, shame can be healthy in small doses. Shame can compel us to eliminate bad behavior and motivate us to act in ways consistent with our values. Healthy shame fuels personal growth and so helps us to become better people.
Too much shame is emotionally and psychologically toxic. (Bradshaw talks extensively about this in his book). There is significant overlap between the consequences of toxic shame and the symptoms of major depression. Here are some of the ways toxic shame manifests itself:
*Causes you to feel exposed and vulnerable, creating a sense that "everyone knows" how disgusting you are. This leads to a desire to hide, withdrawal, or otherwise escape from public view.
*Generates negative judgments about the self, which is seens as inferior, flawed, damaged, disgusting, worthless, etc.
*Creates a tendency to blame yourself when something goes wrong.
*Leads to a sense that you have a very limited amount of power to control what happens in your life. This eventually leads to feelings of hopelessness and helplessness.
*Can create social anxiety due to fears that others will judge you as negatively as you judge yourself.
Essentially, chronic shame leads to self-loathing; self-loathing leads to depression. I have come to believe that chronic, pervasive shame inevitably leads to depression. After all, how could a person hate himself and not become depressed over time?
In the ensuing days my thoughts repeatedly turned to the concept of shame. It's not something I've ever spent a lot of time talking about with patients, although it does come up in sessions. There are, however, certain treatment approaches to which the concept of shame is integral. John Bradshaw (http://www.johnbradshaw.com/) is probably the shame guru, if there is such a thing. His book, "Healing the Shame that Binds You," is a New York Times best seller. In it, Bradshaw points to "toxic shame" as the underlying cause of compulsions, addiction, co-dependencies, and the drive to super-achieve or underachieve."
Shame and guilt are often used interchangeably, which can sometimes cause confusion. For my purposes, I've decided to distinguish guilt and shame as follows:
*Guilt is a bad feeling caused by the fact of having committed a specific offense.
*Shame focuses on the entire self. It is a painful feeling arising from the judgment of oneself as dishonorable, disgraceful, disgusting, etc.
Thus, guilt is concerned with something specific a person has done. The focus of shame is on the self as a whole.
Like most human emotions, shame can be healthy in small doses. Shame can compel us to eliminate bad behavior and motivate us to act in ways consistent with our values. Healthy shame fuels personal growth and so helps us to become better people.
Too much shame is emotionally and psychologically toxic. (Bradshaw talks extensively about this in his book). There is significant overlap between the consequences of toxic shame and the symptoms of major depression. Here are some of the ways toxic shame manifests itself:
*Causes you to feel exposed and vulnerable, creating a sense that "everyone knows" how disgusting you are. This leads to a desire to hide, withdrawal, or otherwise escape from public view.
*Generates negative judgments about the self, which is seens as inferior, flawed, damaged, disgusting, worthless, etc.
*Creates a tendency to blame yourself when something goes wrong.
*Leads to a sense that you have a very limited amount of power to control what happens in your life. This eventually leads to feelings of hopelessness and helplessness.
*Can create social anxiety due to fears that others will judge you as negatively as you judge yourself.
Essentially, chronic shame leads to self-loathing; self-loathing leads to depression. I have come to believe that chronic, pervasive shame inevitably leads to depression. After all, how could a person hate himself and not become depressed over time?
Monday, December 30, 2013
Back from vacation
Sorry I haven't posted anything for the past couple of weeks; I took some time off of work (and responsibility). I thought about posting on several occasions over the past two weeks but I couldn't seem to muster enough motivation. This was the longest consecutive period of time I've had off of work since the end of 2008. It was actually a bit disorienting. I found myself forgetting to do little things that I typically incorporate into my daily routine. Without the routine they simply slipped my mind. There was no damage done; I eventually got around to doing everything I needed to do. It just made me realize that work has become the structure for my life around which everything else is organized. Without work, I sleep in every day. The earliest I start to become productive is around 10:00 AM. If I have the option to be lazy - even if it's for five minutes - I almost always seize the opportunity. I waste hours and hours doing things with absolutely no productive value whatsoever. Because my regular sleep cycle is thrown off my body is confused; I feel lethargic when I need energy and have energy when it's time to go to bed.
I do a little better when I have things planned. If I know I have to be somewhere at a certain time I can structure my day around it. I know what I want to get done that day so I have to give myself enough time to do it before I have to be wherever it is I have obligated myself to be.
I initially felt a bit guilty about how little I accomplished during my two week vacation. Then I decided not to worry about it. It was, after all, a vacation. You're supposed to spend your time relaxing. While I can live with a little chaos for a couple of weeks I could not live my life this way. At first I thought it was about work. I thought to myself, "I can never quit working. I would be a complete mess!" Later I realized it isn't about work at all; it's about structure. I need structure in my life in order to thrive. Without it I become lazy, disorganized, and unproductive. I feel lost.
This isn't really a novel realization; I long ago embraced the comfort of a good routine. It's just that being without structure for a couple of weeks really reiterated this point for me. I sometimes wish I could be the kind of person who "goes with the flow." I'd love to be more fluid and flexible. I know I'm too rigid - I'm just not sure how to be another way.
I do a little better when I have things planned. If I know I have to be somewhere at a certain time I can structure my day around it. I know what I want to get done that day so I have to give myself enough time to do it before I have to be wherever it is I have obligated myself to be.
I initially felt a bit guilty about how little I accomplished during my two week vacation. Then I decided not to worry about it. It was, after all, a vacation. You're supposed to spend your time relaxing. While I can live with a little chaos for a couple of weeks I could not live my life this way. At first I thought it was about work. I thought to myself, "I can never quit working. I would be a complete mess!" Later I realized it isn't about work at all; it's about structure. I need structure in my life in order to thrive. Without it I become lazy, disorganized, and unproductive. I feel lost.
This isn't really a novel realization; I long ago embraced the comfort of a good routine. It's just that being without structure for a couple of weeks really reiterated this point for me. I sometimes wish I could be the kind of person who "goes with the flow." I'd love to be more fluid and flexible. I know I'm too rigid - I'm just not sure how to be another way.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
"Baby Bust"
In case you haven't heard, the United States is currently in the midst of a "Baby Bust." The birth rate in America has been declining for more than a decade. According to Stewart Friedman, author of "Baby Bust: New Choices for Men and Women in Work and Family," the national birth rate in 2011 fell below "replacement" level. This means Americans are not reproducing fast enough to maintain our current population level.
People are concerned about this trend. There are, of course, existential worries about the survival of our species. However, with 6 billion people on our planet homo sapiens are probably in little danger of extinction, at least for the foreseeable future.
Dr. Stuart Bramhall (open.salon.com/blog/stuartbramhall) thinks interest in the so called "Baby Bust" is driven by something nearer and dearer to our hearts: money. Capitalism, he explains, relies on growth. Success in a capitalist society requires perpetual economic growth. Economic growth is fueled by population growth. If the population stops growing so does the economy.
While Dr. Bramhall makes an interesting argument, I'm not convinced there's a vast capitalist conspiracy to keep American women having babies. If that were the case, both the private and public sector would adopt policies and practices that make it easier for people to work while raising a family. Instead, we have extremely expensive child care, schools that let out at 2 or 3 PM - in the middle of a typical nine to five workday - forcing parents to figure out what to do with their children for the two or three hourse after school lets out, and outrageously expensive health care (which is costly at the individual level and becomes financially burdensome at the family level). Paid maternity or paternity leave is practically unheard of. For these reasons and others it has become increasingly difficult to balance the demands of career and family. If people think it impossible to have children and a successful career they feel forced to choose only one of these options. Many choose career over children. So while capitalism may need perpetual growth to sustain itself - as Dr. Bramhall points out - concern about population decline is not yet pressing enough to be a priority.
And then there are those who simply don't want to have children. This was unthinkable in past generations. Not having children wasn't an option. Today, people are far less constrained by cultural norms and societal prescriptions. Having children is no longer a prerequisite for leading a meaningful and fulfilling life.
By far the most interesting thing I read about the "Baby Bust" is an article by Joel Kotkin entitled "Why the Choice to be Childless is Bad for America" (http://www.newsweek.com/why-choice-be-childless-bad-america-63335). The "Baby Bust," Kotkin asserts, will have unintended consequences. First, the population as a whole ages. This is already happening as the baby boomers grow older and begin to retire. According to Kotkin, retirees already receive $3 in government spending for every $1 spent on children under 18. This trend will increase as our aging population retires, placing an increasing burden on younger workers (and ironically making them more likely to opt out of parenthood for economic reasons).
Beyond the economic impact, the Baby Bust could also have significant political implications. Evangelical Christians, mormons, and similar conservative religious groups have much higher birthrates than other segments of the population. If these children adopt their parents' politics the country as a whole will become drastically more conservative. Whether or not this is a good thing depends on who you ask.
My husband and I have been considering having a child. At one point, we'd decided to start trying in January with the hope of bringing a child into the world by the end of 2014 or the beginning of 2015. My husband is extremely concerned about the financial impact of expanding our family. This explains why I've taken an interest in why people choose to have or not to have children. Just thought I'd share what's been on my mind lately...
People are concerned about this trend. There are, of course, existential worries about the survival of our species. However, with 6 billion people on our planet homo sapiens are probably in little danger of extinction, at least for the foreseeable future.
Dr. Stuart Bramhall (open.salon.com/blog/stuartbramhall) thinks interest in the so called "Baby Bust" is driven by something nearer and dearer to our hearts: money. Capitalism, he explains, relies on growth. Success in a capitalist society requires perpetual economic growth. Economic growth is fueled by population growth. If the population stops growing so does the economy.
While Dr. Bramhall makes an interesting argument, I'm not convinced there's a vast capitalist conspiracy to keep American women having babies. If that were the case, both the private and public sector would adopt policies and practices that make it easier for people to work while raising a family. Instead, we have extremely expensive child care, schools that let out at 2 or 3 PM - in the middle of a typical nine to five workday - forcing parents to figure out what to do with their children for the two or three hourse after school lets out, and outrageously expensive health care (which is costly at the individual level and becomes financially burdensome at the family level). Paid maternity or paternity leave is practically unheard of. For these reasons and others it has become increasingly difficult to balance the demands of career and family. If people think it impossible to have children and a successful career they feel forced to choose only one of these options. Many choose career over children. So while capitalism may need perpetual growth to sustain itself - as Dr. Bramhall points out - concern about population decline is not yet pressing enough to be a priority.
And then there are those who simply don't want to have children. This was unthinkable in past generations. Not having children wasn't an option. Today, people are far less constrained by cultural norms and societal prescriptions. Having children is no longer a prerequisite for leading a meaningful and fulfilling life.
By far the most interesting thing I read about the "Baby Bust" is an article by Joel Kotkin entitled "Why the Choice to be Childless is Bad for America" (http://www.newsweek.com/why-choice-be-childless-bad-america-63335). The "Baby Bust," Kotkin asserts, will have unintended consequences. First, the population as a whole ages. This is already happening as the baby boomers grow older and begin to retire. According to Kotkin, retirees already receive $3 in government spending for every $1 spent on children under 18. This trend will increase as our aging population retires, placing an increasing burden on younger workers (and ironically making them more likely to opt out of parenthood for economic reasons).
Beyond the economic impact, the Baby Bust could also have significant political implications. Evangelical Christians, mormons, and similar conservative religious groups have much higher birthrates than other segments of the population. If these children adopt their parents' politics the country as a whole will become drastically more conservative. Whether or not this is a good thing depends on who you ask.
My husband and I have been considering having a child. At one point, we'd decided to start trying in January with the hope of bringing a child into the world by the end of 2014 or the beginning of 2015. My husband is extremely concerned about the financial impact of expanding our family. This explains why I've taken an interest in why people choose to have or not to have children. Just thought I'd share what's been on my mind lately...
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