How Psychotherapy Can Help You to Overcome Trauma and Develop a More Accurate Sense of Self

Does it seem like your perception of yourself is off?  Does it seem that logically, you know your sense of self should be higher but, on an emotional level, you're not feeling it?  This is a problem that many people experience.  In this article, I'm focusing on how psychotherapy can help you to overcome the disconnect between what you know and how you feel about yourself (see my article: How Developmental Trauma Affects How You Feel About Yourself).

How Psychotherapy Can Help You to Overcome Trauma and Develop a More Accurate Sense of Self

How Self Perception Develops
Your self perception develops in early infancy and it's based on interactions between you and your primary caregiver (a mother, in most cases).

An infant looks at his mother's face to discover who he is.  If the mother is attuned to the baby most of the time, the baby forms a positive perception of himself.  But if the mother is distracted, depressed or angry most of the time, the baby will often form a negative perception of himself, unless there are other adults who interact positively with the baby enough to offset the negative effects from the mother.

How Early Experiences Affect Self Perception As An Adult
Throughout life people continue to scan other people's faces to discover how these people are reacting towards them.  As children develop into adults, they have a greater ability to develop their own sense of self that is separate from how others perceive them.

But if there was significant early childhood neglect or abuse, it can be challenging to have a positive self perception.  Even when a person might know, on an intellectual level, that she is a "good person" who is kind, honest, intelligent and empathetic towards others, she might not feel it.  The disconnect between what a person knows objectively and what she feels can be disturbing.

The problem is that, as an infant, this person internalized a negative sense of self from the primary caregiver.  Adults have defense mechanisms that can serve to protect them against these negative reactions, but infants don't have strong defense mechanisms.  If something in their environment is bothering them, they can't fight or flee.  If protesting by crying doesn't work, their only recourse is to dissociate.

Later on, as an adult, it can be confusing when someone can't understand the difference in what he thinks vs. what he feels.  He might not know that, when he was an infant, his mother was too depressed, anxious, neglectful or abusive to reflect back love and nurturance to him.

Under these circumstances, it usually doesn't matter how many people might praise him as an adult.  He will probably still feel like he is "not good enough" or "unlovable" (see my article: Overcoming the Emotional Pain of Feeling Unlovable).

Fictional Clinical Vignette
The following fictional clinical vignette illustrates how psychotherapy can help a client to overcome traumatic early experiences so he can develop a more accurate self perception:

Ed
From the time Ed was a young child, he had a poor sense of self.  No matter how many "A's" he got in school, no matter how much his teachers and others praised him, Ed felt unworthy.

Ed's poor sense of self interfered with his making friends and socializing with others.  Fortunately, throughout his life other people saw positive qualities in Ed, liked him, and gravitated towards him.  But Ed had difficulty feeling like a worthwhile individual--no matter how many people befriended him or what he accomplished in his life.

When Ed was in his mid-30s, he won a prestigious award in his field and he attended an awards ceremony where he was honored.  As he listened to the speakers praise him, he was grateful for their kind words, but he felt empty inside because, despite the award and the recognition, he had a poor sense of self.

During the award ceremony, Ed felt an urge to flee.  He knew objectively that he worked hard and his achievements merited the award, but he still felt like a fraud and an impostor, which confused him.

He also felt ashamed because he felt that if the people who were honoring him knew him deep down, they wouldn't think he was a worthy person (see my article: Overcoming the Feeling That People Wouldn't Like You if They Really Knew You and Overcoming Impostor Syndrome).

Shortly after that, Ed realized that, in reality, he had a very good life and he had everything to look forward to but, despite this, he was miserable because of his low sense of self.  He knew he needed to get help in therapy.  So, he contacted a psychotherapist who specialized in his presenting problem and began attending therapy sessions.

After Ed talked about his presenting problem of having a low sense of self, he discussed his family history with his psychotherapist.  He told her that his brother, Jack, who was older by 12 years, told Ed that their mother was significant depressed after Ed was born.

As a result, Ed was raised primarily by a nanny who was known to be efficient but not warm or loving.  Jack also told Ed that their father was often away on business trips and that Ed was usually left alone in his crib for hours at a time.

As his psychotherapist listened to Ed's account of his early childhood history, she realized that it appeared that he was emotionally neglected a child.  As a result, as an infant, Ed didn't get the necessary mirroring and nurturing necessary for an infant's healthy emotional and psychological development.

His psychotherapist provided Ed with psychoeducation, based on mother-infant research, about the importance of early mirroring and nurturing and the negative consequences to emotional and psychological development when they are missing.

Ed had never made these connections before.  While he was glad to know the possible origin of his low sense of self, he also felt discouraged.  He told his therapist that, while it was helpful to have this information, he didn't know what to do with it to change how he felt about himself.

His psychotherapist explained that before experiential therapy, including trauma therapy, was developed, all that psychotherapists could offer clients was insight into their problems.  But since trauma therapy was developed, these problems could now be worked through.

She also provided Ed with information about EMDR therapy, a trauma therapy, which was well researched. She explained that EMDR therapy was developed more than 30 years ago by a psychologist named Francine Shapiro, Ph.D. (see my articles: How EMDR Therapy Works: EMDR and the Brain and Experiential Therapy, Like EMDR Therapy, Helps to Achieve Emotional Breakthroughs).

His psychotherapist recommended that they use EMDR therapy to help Ed to overcome his low sense of self, and Ed agreed.

Over the next several sessions, after the initial period of preparation to do EMDR, Ed provided his psychotherapist with 10 memories that he had about himself from all different times in his life where he felt he was unworthy.

After Ed and his therapist went over the memories, Ed chose a memory to work on using EMDR therapy that still had an emotional charge for him.  Over time, as they processed this memory with EMDR, his psychotherapist asked Ed to think back to the earliest memory that he had where he had the same emotional/physical experiences as he did with the memory that they were working on.

Ed was surprised that he remembered an early memory of being about three years old when he tried to get his mother's attention.  He remembered calling his mother, who was in the room with him, but she didn't respond.  Then, he remembered crying and getting louder and louder, but his mother still didn't respond.  She just sat there.  Eventually, the nanny came, but when she discovered that Ed wasn't hungry and he wasn't in need of anything else that was physical, she put him back in his crib and left.

How Psychotherapy Can Help You to Overcome Trauma and Develop a More Accurate Sense of Self

After several months of processing similar memories, Ed began to actually feel like he was a worthy individual.  His self perception became a lot more positive and objectively accurate.  He was able to take in others' praise because he felt deserving.  He was also able to interact more easily with others and form closer bonds with friends.

Conclusion
Individuals, who experience early trauma of either neglect or abuse, often develop a negative sense of self because they have internalized these experiences at a young age.

This usually results in a disconnect between what these individuals think and what they feel.  Regardless of what someone might think on an objective level, and all evidence to the contrary, s/he will most likely feel a low sense of self, which can be confusing.

The fictional vignette which was provided above is a simplified version of how trauma therapy can help clients in therapy to overcome early trauma that creates a negative sense of self.

Each client is unique in terms of how s/he responds to trauma therapy, like EMDR, and how long it takes to overcome early trauma.

Getting Help in Therapy
Early trauma often has a negative impact on an individual's sense of self, and this affect can be very difficult to overcome alone.

Trauma therapy, like EMDR, was developed to help individuals in therapy to overcome the impact of traumatic experiences (see my article: The Benefits of Psychotherapy and Why Experiential Therapy is More Effective to Overcome Trauma Than Talk Therapy Alone).

If you're struggling on your own, you can get help from a licensed mental health professional who is trained as a trauma therapist (see my article: How to Choose a Psychotherapist).

Once you have overcome your traumatic experiences, you can live a more fulfilling life free of your traumatic history.

About Me
I am a licensed NYC psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, EMDR and Somatic Experiencing therapist (see my article: The Therapeutic Benefits of Integrative Psychotherapy).

I work with individual adults and couples, and I have helped many clients to overcome trauma experiences.

To find out more about me, visit my website: Josephine Ferraro, LCSW - NYC Psychotherapist.

To set up a consultation, call me at (917) 742-2624 during business hours or email me.

Books: Imperfect Love in "My Name is Lucy Barton"

The novel, My Name is Lucy Barton, by Elizabeth Strout, is primarily about a mother-daughter relationship that is an "imperfect love" where so many emotions, including love, are unspoken.  Although her mother is unable to express her love directly in words, when Lucy most needs her as an adult, the mother demonstrates her love by her actions (see my articles: Mother-Daughter Relationships Over the Course of a Lifetime, Mother-Daughter Relationships: Letting Go of Resentments, and Getting Help in Mother-Daughter Therapy).

Imperfect Love in "My Name is Lucy Barton"

Lucy's Traumatic Childhood History
As young children, Lucy and her two siblings are raised in dire poverty in the rural town of Amgash, IL where the five of them live in her granduncle's garage with no heat or hot water, no TV and no other modern conveniences.

One of Lucy's earliest memories is of being cold in bed and her mother bringing her a hot water bottle so she can try to get warm.  She also remembers going hungry, and having only bread and molasses to eat as a child.

Aside from the financial poverty, there's also an emotional estrangement between members of this dysfunctional family--despite their close proximity living together in a small space in the garage (or maybe because of their physical proximity).  Even among Lucy and her siblings, there's no affection or closeness, as if they are suspicious of one another (see my article: Dynamics of Adult Children of Dysfunctional Families).

There is so much that is unspoken.  For instance, her father, who served in the military during World War II, suffers from what we now know is post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). But neither the father nor the mother name it--possibly they didn't know what it was.  They also don't talk about his traumatic experiences.  Lucy thinks of her father's odd behavior as "the thing" because it remains unnamed and undefined.

It is only later, when Lucy brings her soon-to-be husband of German descent to meet that family that Lucy learns that her father is uncomfortable around Germans.  Her father is awkward and unable to look Lucy's fiance in the eye, but he never explains his discomfort.  During that same visit, when Lucy and her mother are alone, her mother scolds her for bringing a young man of German descent to their home because this upsets the father. But, of course, Lucy had no way of knowing that this would upset her father because her parents never discussed his discomfort with Germans.

Later in life, Lucy finds out that her father murdered two young, innocent, unarmed German civilians because they startled him.  She learns that not one day went by in her father's life when he wasn't haunted by this memory. So, in retrospect, Lucy realizes that when she brought her soon-to-be-husband to meet her parents, her father experienced it as if one of those young dead German men came back to haunt him.

As a child, Lucy also experiences her own trauma, including both parents' sudden impulses to hit Lucy and her siblings for no apparent reason.

One of the other ongoing traumas in her life is that, as a desperate form of "childcare," her parents regularly locked Lucy up in her father's truck while they were both out working, and she is trapped in the truck with a snake.  This results in a lifelong phobia of snakes or even hearing the word "snake."  The reader gets a visceral sense of how desperate and frightened Lucy felt trapped in the truck with no one within earshot to rescue her.

Due to their poverty and what others perceived as their oddness, Lucy and her siblings are ostracized and made fun of by the children at school.  Her classmates make fun of her for her clothing.  They also despise Lucy and her cousin for being hungry and dumpster diving for food.  And, since they have no TV and have never gone to the movies as children, they are also culturally ostracized from their classmates (see my article: Feeling Like an Outsider).

When Lucy and her siblings are children, the father humiliates Lucy's brother after the father discovers that the brother is secretly cross dressing in the mother's clothing.  The father forces his son to wear his mother's clothing and high heels in public to shame him while the father drives alongside him loudly demeaning him.

Later on in life, Lucy finds out from her mother that her brother, as an adult who remains home with the parents, sleeps with a neighbor's pigs the night before they are about to be slaughtered, and he reads children's books about a family who lives on the prairie.  No one knows why and no one asks the brother about his unspoken suffering (see my articles: The Role of the Family Scapegoat and Being the "Different One" in Your Family).

In her childhood, there are a couple of people in Lucy's life who are sympathetic.  One of them is the school janitor, Tommy, who allows Lucy to stay in an empty classroom to do her homework and to sleep in the warmth of the classroom.

Although Lucy is too shy to speak with Tommy, she recognizes that he is being kind to her by allowing her to stay in the classroom.  She remains there everyday, until she has to go home, because there is heat in the classroom, unlike where she lives in the garage.

Tommy's own poignant story is told in Ms. Strout's next book, Anything is Possible, and the reader develops a better understanding from that books about why he is as empathetic as he is towards Lucy.  He has his own tragic history, but he is also a resilient survivor.

Lucy and Her Mother Reconnect: An Imperfect Love
After she moves to New York City and she is married with two young daughters, Lucy is hospitalized for nine weeks with a mysterious infection.  While she is hospitalized, Lucy's husband arranges for her mother to come stay with her in the hospital.

After not seeing each other for years, there is an awkwardness and tension between Lucy and her mother, especially since the mother is unable to express her love for Lucy in words.  Also, from the mother's standpoint, there is no possibility of discussing all that is unresolved between them.  But, for Lucy, having her mother there--even just hearing her voice--is soothing.  Lucy knows that, in her own way, her mother loves her, and she becomes aware of how important her mother is to her.

Even though the mother is unable to tell Lucy in words that she loves her, just the fact that she got on a plane for the first time in her life, as frightened as she was by the experience, and stayed by Lucy's side for five days with little to no sleep, demonstrates how much she loves Lucy.

They spend most of their time talking about the people they know from their small town.  Her mother gossips about their neighbors, focusing on their unhappy marriages.  But she doesn't talk about Lucy's father and what must have been a difficult marriage for mother given the father's PTSD symptoms and their crushing poverty.

The reader gets the sense that, even though the mother is talking about other people's unhappy marriages, on an unconscious level, she is actually talking indirectly about her own unhappy marriage.

The mother also alludes cryptically to her own experience of feeling unsafe as a reason why she doesn't sleep well and prefers catnaps.  She alludes to a history of having to be vigilant.  But when Lucy asks her mother why she didn't feel safe, her mother doesn't respond, so it remains another unspoken mystery.

When Lucy is taken for a CT scan, her mother searches for Lucy in the hospital basement so that Lucy won't be alone.  Lucy knows that this was a big challenge for her mother.  Once again, there is an unspoken understanding between them that even if they're not telling each other "I love you," there is a lot of love between them.

Despite Lucy's mother's emotional support, she leaves very abruptly when Lucy's doctor tells them that Lucy might need an operation.  The mother never communicates why she feels the need to leave so quickly, but the reader senses that she is running from some unnamed fear that even she might not understand.  This saddens Lucy because she wants her mother to stay, especially if she will need surgery, but she understands that her mother is too frightened to stay.

Despite the unspoken love conveyed while Lucy is in the hospital, after her mother leaves, they go back to their usual emotional estrangement and speak only on holidays and birthdays. The reader senses that Lucy's mother cannot sustain the level of closeness they had when Lucy was in the hospital.

Throughout her stay in the hospital, Lucy likes to look out her window at the Chrysler building lit up at night as if she sees it is as a strong and sturdy beacon of hope that assures her.

Lucy and the Kindness of Strangers
As a result of her traumatic childhood experiences, Lucy develops a strong sense of empathy for other people's loneliness and trauma.  She intuits that she and they are kindred spirits.

Throughout her life, Lucy is drawn to lonely, traumatized people that she barely knows who are kind to her.  Most of these people are just passing through her life, but she recognizes and appreciates their kindness.  She relates to the quote by Blanche Dubois from A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams, "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers" and all that this implies about isolation and loneliness (see my article: Overcoming Loneliness and Social Isolation).

Of the people who are kind to her, there's the attending physician in the hospital who visits her every day including weekends.  Lucy finds out indirectly that the doctor lost his family during the Holocaust and that he carries this sadness with him.  Without words, he seems to intuitively understand Lucy.  And Lucy senses his sadness and loneliness.  She senses how much he cares about her.

There's also the kind neighbor in her building, who is a psychoanalyst, originally from France, who sees Lucy's artistic side.  When he learns that Lucy is writing, he tells her to be "ruthless" in her writing, which she doesn't understand at first.  They have an unspoken affection for each other, but Lucy doesn't know much about him.  After he dies from complications related to AIDS (this is the height of the AIDS epidemic in the 1980s), she finds out that he was gay.  At that point, she understands the cause of his loneliness and isolation.

Lucy Discovers Her Voice in Her Writing
Lucy finds her voice in her writing.  Although she lacks confidence and tends to minimize her accomplishments, other people see the value of her work.  There's a writing teacher, who is a well-known New York City writer, who, just like Lucy, also suffers from PTSD.  She praises Lucy's writing and encourages her to continue writing.

Lucy seems to sense that she and these lonely, traumatized people are kindred souls.

Lucy's Sense of Hope and Resiliency
One of the amazing things about this character is that, despite her traumatic experiences, Lucy remains hopeful and resilient, in spite of her trauma.  She finds strength where she can, and she doesn't seem to feel victimized by her experiences.  She is also able to see the positive qualities in others, and she remains open to making connections with them (see my articles: Resilience: Bouncing Back From Life's Challenges, Overcoming Trauma and Developing Resilience, and Posttraumatic Growth: Developing a Greater Sense of Hope and Meaning in the Aftermath of Trauma).

I highly recommend this book.  Elizabeth Strout's characters are people you can relate to, and she is able to convey their mysterious inner worlds in a poetic way without sentimentality.

About Me
I am a licensed NYC psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, EMDR and Somatic Experiencing therapist (see my article: The Therapeutic Benefits of Integrative Psychotherapy).

I work with individual adults and couples, and I specialize in working with psychological trauma.

To find out more about me, visit my website: Josephine Ferraro, LCSW - NYC Psychotherapist.

To set up a consultation, call me at (917) 742-2624 during business hours or email me.

See My Other Articles About Books:
Love and Longing in "Enigma Variations" by Andre Aciman
"Call Me By Your Name" - by Andre Aciman: Part 1: "Is It Better to Speak or to Die?"
"Call Me By Your Name" by Andre Aciman: The Concept of Living Parallel Lives
Denial and Illusions in "The Iceman Cometh" - by Eugene O'Neill
"Three Tall Women" - by Edward Albee
Reading Literature and the Positive Effect on the Brain
Books: "Tea With Winnicott" by Brett Khar

When Idealized Heroes Falter

As a psychotherapist in New York City, who is a trauma specialist, I often hear from adult clients how disappointing it was for them as children, and even as adults, when their idealized heroes faltered.

When Idealized Heroes Falter

This topic often comes up when I'm preparing a client to do attachment-related EMDR therapy (see my article: How EMDR Therapy Works: EMDR and the Brain), and it's an opportunity to work through these issues.

As part of the preparation, I help clients to imagine a safe or relaxing place.  I also ask clients to come up with three people (real or imagined) who embody the qualities of being powerful, nurturing and wise.  I also offer the possibility, if they prefer, to name one person who embodies all of these qualities.

This is the resourcing part of the preparation phase of EMDR, and the three real or imagined people are used later on in EMDR processing, if necessary, as imaginal interweaves (as developed by EMDR expert, Laurel Parnell, Ph.D.).

Specifically, during the processing phase of EMDR, clients might run into difficulty and need to imagine one or more of the qualities embodied by these people to get through a difficult part of the trauma work.  Often these interweaves aren't needed if the processing of the trauma is going smoothly, but it's good to have them already set up before the processing of the trauma begins.

Depending upon their traumatic history, some clients struggle to come up with real or imagined people and I help them to come up with people who are meaningful in their lives either in the present or in the past.

It's often at that point that clients will talk about idealized heroes that disappointed them at some point in their lives, especially as children.

Sometimes, if these clients didn't process these disappointments with anyone before, their perspective about their disappointment can remain childlike, which is understandable because it's as if the disappointment is frozen in time.

At that point, it can helpful for a psychotherapist to help the client to develop an adult perspective about the former idealized hero who faltered, one that includes empathy and compassion if that's possible (see my article: Looking at Your Childhood Trauma From an Adult Perspective).

Fictional Clinical Vignette: When Idealized Heroes Falter
The following fictional vignette illustrates how an adult client in therapy can come to terms with his his disappointment about an idealized hero from his childhood:

Tom
Tom was in his early 40s when he began attending psychotherapy to deal with a traumatic history of emotional abuse.  He said he never thought he would come to therapy, but he realized that his history of emotional abuse was getting in the way of his having a relationship and he couldn't ignore it anymore.

After the initial consultation and sessions about his family history, the therapist explained EMDR therapy to Tom, including the various phases of EMDR.  They began the resourcing phase, which included coming up with a relaxing place and the three imaginal interweaves mentioned above (wise, nurturing and powerful people who are either real or imagined).

Since Tom experienced childhood emotional abuse by his father, it wasn't surprising that he had problems coming up with the imaginal interweaves because his whole world had been turned upside down by the emotional abuse.  The therapist told Tom that they could forgo this part of the preparation if he preferred, but Tom said he wanted to do this part and he would think about it between therapy sessions.

When he returned for his next psychotherapy session, Tom told his therapist that he remembered something that he hadn't thought of in a long time:  His disappointment in a neighbor, Jim, who was someone that Tom looked up to as a child and who was a friend and a hero to him.

Tom said that Jim lived with his wife in the same apartment building in Brooklyn where Tom and his family lived.  Jim was a mechanic and he had his own business a few blocks away from the apartment house.  He and his wife had no children of their own, but all the children in the neighborhood who knew Jim liked him.

On his days off, Jim would coach Little League games.  He was also active in the community, and he was instrumental in helping to set up the Police Athlete League (PAL) in Tom's neighborhood so the children had a place to play and learn.

The times that Tom liked best was when he and Jim would sit on the stoop to talk.  Tom felt he could talk to Jim about almost anything.  They would spend hours sitting on the stoop talking about sports, school, homework or whatever topic came up.

Tom never confided in Jim about how emotionally abusive his father was, but Tom sensed that Jim knew and that he was compassionate towards Tom and tried to be emotionally supportive.

Jim also talked about how when he was 18, he joined the Marines to get away from a difficult home life.  Afterwards, he said, he trained to be a car mechanic, met the woman who would eventually become his wife, and opened his own business with a partner.

Tom told his psychotherapist that from that day on Jim became his hero, and listening to Jim speak gave Tom hope that one day he would overcome his current circumstances at home.  It was at that point that Tom began talking to Jim about what he might want to do when he grew up.  It was the first time that Tom ever allowed himself to think he might be happy in the future.

Tom's friendship with Jim continued from the time Tom was in elementary school until he graduated high school.  It was Jim who encouraged Tom to participate in sports in high school and to apply to colleges.

Then, one day, when Tom came home on Spring break from college and he went to visit Jim, Jim's wife opened the door and told Tom that Jim wasn't there.  When Tom asked her where he was, she told Tom to come in and sit down.

After they sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity to Tom, Jim's wife lowered her eyes and told Tom that Jim was incarcerated for embezzling money from the business that he and his partner owned.  His partner pressed charges, and Jim admitted that he took the money.

When she raised her eyes, she could see that Tom was shocked and she said, "I know you idolized Jim.  I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me."

He remembered that after she told him about Jim's incarceration, all he could say was, "But why?  Why did he do it?"

"There's no excuse for it, Tom," she said, "We were going through hard times financially.  After he was caught, he told me that he did it and planned to pay back every penny that he took, but he was caught before he could do that.  I can't believe it myself. It's so out of character for Jim."

Tom told his psychotherapist that prior to going home on Spring break, he had been out of touch with Jim for a few months, so he knew nothing about this until Jim's wife told him.  After he got over the shock, he felt deeply angry with Jim.

He thought about all the times that Jim talked to Tom about honesty and integrity.  After he heard what Jim did, all he could think was that Jim was a hypocrite and he was foolish for ever befriending Jim and believing in him.

He told his psychotherapist, "He was my hero.  He would have been the one that I would have chosen as a 'powerful' person, if he didn't end up going to prison.  After I found out what happened, I didn't make an attempt to ever reach out to him again."

Tom's psychotherapist could tell that, even though Tom was in his early 40s, he was stuck. His reaction to Jim was coming from his adolescent self and not his adult self.

They spent several sessions talking about how disappointed Tom was in Jim, and how he never saw Jim again, even after he got out of prison.  Eventually, Jim and his wife moved out of the neighborhood and Tom had no idea where they went.

Over the course of the next several sessions, Tom continued to talk about his feelings, and he mentioned that he was also having dreams about Jim.  His psychotherapist helped Tom to see that anger towards Jim covered over his deep sadness and disappointment (see my article: Discovering That Sadness is Often Hidden Underneath Anger).

Gradually, Tom began to see that, although what Jim did was wrong, Jim was human and he made a mistake.  He also realized that Jim never meant to hurt anyone and he must have been desperate to steal the money from his partner, even if he planned to pay it back, as his wife said.

Tom began looking at his relationship with Jim from an adult perspective.  His attitude towards Jim softened, and he was able to see that, even though Jim made a mistake that he paid for by going to prison, Jim helped him in many ways.  He realized that he probably wouldn't have studied as hard and gone to college if it hadn't been for Jim.  He also realized that Jim fulfilled an important role in his life at a crucial time, and he was grateful for that.

With that, Tom and his therapist were able to go on to complete the preparation phase of EMDR and process his childhood trauma of being emotionally abused by his father.

Eventually, Tom found out where Jim and his wife lived and sent Jim a letter expressing his gratitude for all that Jim had done for him when he was a child.  A few weeks after that, Jim invited Tom over to reconcile their friendship.

Tom could see that Jim had aged a lot since he last saw him more than 20 years ago, but he still had the same warm smile.

Jim acknowledged to Tom that he was wrong for stealing the money, regardless of his financial circumstances.  He also apologized to Tom for disappointing him.   Jim told him that when he was in prison, he often thought about Tom and some of the other children in the neighborhood, and he knew that he let them down.

Tom could tell that Jim was deeply affected by their reconciliation, and Tom felt the last vestiges of his anger slipping away.

Conclusion
People who are idealized heroes in our lives are human and have flaws, just like anyone else.

Even comic book superheroes have flaws: Clark Kent, who was Superman in the comics, comes to mind with regard to his powerlessness around kryptonite.  Despite his courage and superhuman  abilities, deep down he felt like an outsider because he was an orphan.  Those were feelings that he kept to himself.

Coming to terms with the faltering of an idealized hero can be difficult for a child, and it can even be difficult for an adult looking back on his experiences with a hero.

Parents can talk to a child about mistakes that the child made as a way to help the child to see the humanity in the child's hero.  But when there's no one for a child to process these feelings with, these feelings often remain frozen and somewhat childlike.

With the help of a psychotherapist, a client can look back on his disappointment that his hero faltered and learn to develop empathy and compassion.  He can also learn that it's not an all-or-nothing experience, and he can still appreciate and be grateful for all that was positive in their relationship (see my article: Overcoming All or Nothing Thinking).

Getting Help in Therapy
Psychotherapy can help you to work through traumatic experiences from your past so that you can free yourself from the trauma in your history (see my article: The Benefits of Psychotherapy).

Rather than suffering on your own, you can get help from a licensed mental health professional who can assist you to overcome a traumatic history so you can lead a more fulfilling life (see my article: How to Choose a Psychotherapist).

About Me
I am a licensed NYC psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, EMDR and Somatic Experiencing therapist (see my article: The Therapeutic Benefits of Integrative Psychotherapy).

To find out more about me, visit my website: Josephine Ferraro, LCSW - NYC Psychotherapist.

To set up a consultation, call me at (917) 742-2624 during business hours or email me.

Theater: Edward Albee's Play - Three Tall Women: Three Perspectives From Three Stages of a Life

In Edward Albee's autobiographical two-act play, Three Tall Women, the protagonist, who is referred to as A, is represented at three different stages of her life.

Three Perspectives From Three Stages of a Life

In the first act, the three women are shown as three separate women:

• A: the protagonist, is a 92 year old woman suffering with dementia and physical challenges 

• B: is A's 52 year old caretaker

• C: is a 26 year old lawyer sent from A's law firm who has come to A's home to help straighten out A's financial matters which are in disarray because A forgets to pay her bills

Act One
The play doesn't really have a plot.  Instead, it has several themes.

The main themes of the play are aging, mortality, gender, and family relationships. These themes are presented in the first act with A reminiscing about when she was young, her relationships with her sister and mother, her relationship with her husband, and the days when she won awards for horseback riding (see my article: Making Peace With the Aging Process).

Even though A struggles with her memory, she talks almost non-stop about her youth and the early days of her marriage.  Even though she wasn't in love with her wealthy husband, she remembers her life as having some happy times, despite her husband's philandering with other women.

A also talks about her son and the conflicts they had about his homosexuality, which led to their 20 year estrangement.  In Act One, even though she is still opposed to her son being gay, she also misses him and wonders why he doesn't come to visit her more often and, when he comes, why he doesn't stay longer (see my article: Dealing With Homophobia in Your Family).

Her caretaker, B, is compassionate, although she is also weary of taking care of A.  She tries to soothe A when she is upset about her faltering memory and her problematic relationship with her son.  But C, the young attorney, is impatient with A.  She gets annoyed with A's vanity when A tries to say she is 91 and not 92.

A reminisces about her mother and how they had a good relationship with when A was a young girl.  But by the time her mother is older and she moves in with A, their relationship changed.  Her mother resents that she is old and frail, and A believes her mother hated and resented her at that point.

By the end of Act One, as A reminisces about those later difficult days with her mother, she has a stroke, and B and C are contact the doctor and A's son.

Act Two
In Act Two, A, B, and C are now aspects of the protagonist--A, at different stages of her life: her youth, her middle-age years, and her final years.

The aspect of A who had the stroke is on her death bed with an oxygen mask, and her son sits silently on the bed next to her stroking her hand.

The aspect of A who is up and walking around is no longer frail or demented.  She has her full faculties and she's talking to the younger aspects of herself, B and C.

C, who is 26, is still optimistic about her life.  She is hoping that the best times in her life are yet to come.  But when she hears B, who is 52, and A, who is 92, tell her about what's to come in her future, she's ambivalent about hearing it.  Part of her wants to know, but another part of her is horrified.  She can't believe that she will change so much between her youth and old age.  She also can't believe that she will alienate her only son later on in her life.  She vows that she will never become like B and A.

B is somewhat jaded about life, but she believes she is living the best part of her life now in her middle age with much of the hardships behind her.  But when she looks at the aspect of A on her death bed and the aspect of A in front of her, who is telling her what's to come in her life, she is also ambivalent about hearing about it.

A watches the aspect of herself lying in a coma on her death bed as her son sits with her--the same son who left and stayed away for 20 years because she couldn't tolerate his homosexuality.  Although he would really be middle aged when she is dying, she sees him as he appeared on the day he left the household when he was a young man.

At the end of the play, A faces the audience and tells them that the best time in her life is now--at the end of her life.  She says that as her life is ending, it's the happiest moment of her life.

Some Thoughts About the Play
As I mentioned, it's generally acknowledged that Three Tall Women is an autobiographical play.  Edward Albee was adopted by a wealthy couple who moved him from one private school to another.  From what I've read, it appears that he wasn't close to his adopted parents, who were so different from him.

Just as the son in Three Tall Women was estranged from his mother for 20 years because she couldn't accept his homosexuality, Edward Albee was also estranged from his mother because of their conflicts about his being gay.

It appears that, even though they reconnected, they never talked about their conflicts, and he wasn't close to his mother.  In the play, A states that he came back to see her, but he never returned to see his father or to attend his father's funeral.

The protagonist's self states from different stages in her life communicate with each other and each provides a unique perspective of A from different points of view in her life.  She is reviewing her life from her youth, middle age and at the end of her life.

Mortality, one of the main themes of this thought-provoking play, is viewed from these different perspectives.

Being in the audience, you can't help think about your life at whatever stage you're in and how you're living your life.  You also become aware that life is short so, while there's still time to change, you can ask yourself how you want to live your life.

About Me
I am a licensed NYC psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, EMDR and Somatic Experiencing therapist (see my article: The Therapeutic Benefits of Integrative Psychotherapy).

I work with individual adults and couples.

My specialties include: 

• Trauma
• Depression
• Anxiety
• Relationship issues
• Career issues
• Bereavement and loss
• LGBT issues
• Substance abuse aftercare
• Major life changes

To find out more about me, visit my website: Josephine Ferraro, LCSW - NYC Psychotherapist.

To set up a consultation, call me at (917) 742-2624 during business hours or email me.

Seeing Yourself as a Loner vs. Experiencing Yourself as Not Belonging

In my prior articles, Seeing Yourself as "Independent" vs. Feeling Shame For Feeling Like a Burden and Seeing Yourself as "Rational" vs. Feeling Shame For Not Being Able to Feel, I discussed how people often use pride-based defense mechanisms to ward off deeper problems.  Continuing with the theme of pride-based defense mechanisms, I'm focusing on the defense used by people who see themselves as loners vs. the deeper issue of feeling that they don't belong.

Seeing Yourself as a Loner vs. Experiencing Yourself as Not Belonging

Before I go on, I want to emphasize that the ability to be alone is an important psychological development, so I'm not saying that enjoying solitude is a problem (see my article: On Being Alone).

I am referring to people who defensively ward off deeper feelings of being an outsider or not belonging and who label themselves as a loner in order not to deal with those deeper, more problematic feelings that involve shame.

Of course, like most other things, being a loner is on a continuum, and different people who identify themselves as loners can mean different things.  There are loners who do have close relationships, but there is often a wariness of getting too close to people.

Like the people who take on the other pride-based identifications, like being "independent," which is really a pseudo-independence, and people who pride themselves as being "rational" when, in reality, they have problems with certain emotions that are unpleasant for them (like anger and sadness), people who take on the pride-based identification of being a loner often develop this defense mechanism at an early age as a way to cope with difficult family dynamics.

Most people, who use being a loner as a defense mechanism against feeling a chronic sense of not belonging, don't know that they're using a defense mechanism because the defense mechanism is unconscious.  In addition, they usually don't attend psychotherapy, except when other issues interfere with their lives or when they get an ultimatum from someone important in their life.

Fictional Clinical Vignette: Seeing Yourself as a Loner vs. Experiencing Yourself as Not Belonging
The following fictional vignette is typical of the dynamics which I've discussed above and illustrates how the pride-based identification of being a loner defends against a chronic sense of not belonging:

Ron
Ron, who was in his early 30s, came for a psychotherapy consultation after his mother moved away from New York City to live in Florida and he began to feel like "something was missing" from his life.  He never thought he would ever come for a psychotherapy consultation.  Although he wasn't convinced that psychotherapy would help him, he thought he would "give it a try" and he hoped to discover in therapy what might be missing for him.

Seeing Yourself as a Loner vs. Experiencing Yourself as Not Belonging

Ron told his  psychotherapist that he prided himself on being a loner.  Generally, he liked to spend time by himself, but when his mother lived in New York City, he liked to visit her every week or so to touch base with her.

When his psychotherapist asked Ron about his father and siblings, he said he was raised as an only child, and his father left the household when he was 12.  He had no contact with his father since that time.  Prior to that, he said, his father was emotionally and physically abusive with both his mother and him.  He recalled that when he was a young child of four or five, his father used to berate him and tell Ron that he wasn't his biological child.  He even threatened to put Ron in foster care.

When Ron was 12, he came home from school and found his father packing his things.  His last words to Ron were, "You're a loser and you're no son of mine," which was extremely painful for Ron.  

Later that day, he found out from his mother that the father told her he was moving in with his mistress of several years.  The father also told her that he had two younger sons with this woman, and that he planned to remain with them.  Until then, the father's mistress and his other children had been a secret (see my article: Toxic Family Secrets).

As a result, Ron grew up feeling inadequate.  As a child, he often wondered if he was really adopted and neither parent wanted to tell him.  He reasoned that this would explain why his father was so abusive towards him and told him that he wasn't his son.

But when he was older, his mother showed him his birth certificate which indicated that she and Ron's father were his birth parents.  But as a teenager, Ron continued to feel that he wasn't good enough because he believed that if he was good enough, his father would have stayed.  He never met his younger half-brothers, but he imagined that, unlike him, they were everything that his father wanted as sons.

He told his therapist that he considered himself to be a very spiritual person, and he would sometimes spend hours meditating or praying.  Aside from his mother, he identified God as being his primary emotional support.  He felt that God was always there, never abandoned him, and never let him down.

When he was in high school, he had very good grades, but he had some disciplinary problems for getting into fights.  He was evaluated by the school psychologist, who ruled out Asperger's or any other psychological disorders.  The school psychologist recommended that Ron's mother take him to see a child therapist to deal with the trauma related to the abuse, witnessing domestic violence and the father leaving the household, but his mother told Ron that she didn't think he needed therapy.  She didn't believe in therapy.  She was a religious woman, and she told Ron to pray instead.

Ron had a few buddies that he hung out with when he was in college, but he had little contact with them after college graduation, except for occasionally interactions on Facebook.  There were a few buddies that he hung out with occasionally to watch sports, but he didn't consider them to be close friends. These were people that Ron grew up with in his neighborhood.

There were two colleagues at work that he interacted with occasionally but, as a web designer who mostly worked from home, he tended to spend most of his work hours by himself, which suited him.

He had never been in a serious relationship.  Occasionally, he met women at online, but these relationships were mostly sexual and didn't last long.

Since his mother moved away, he began thinking that he might like to be in a relationship that was more than just sexual.  He was thinking that he might like the companionship, as long as the woman he was with gave him his "space" and didn't expect him to attend too many social gatherings.

By the end of the consultation, when Ron told the psychotherapist that he would like to come to therapy about once a month, she told him that psychotherapy sessions were usually weekly and, if he only came once a month, his progress would be very slow.  Reluctantly, Ron agreed to "try" weekly therapy sessions.

After hearing his family history, Ron's therapist recognized that Ron had a lot of unresolved childhood trauma that he was defending against.  She also sensed that, despite his saying that he prided himself on being a loner, he was deeply lonely and didn't realize it.  She knew she would have to wait until Ron was ready to broach these issues with him.

Initially, Ron was somewhat aloof with his psychotherapist.  He would talk about his attempts to date.  He said he was comfortable while the contact was online, but when he had to meet a date in person, he felt very self conscious and awkward.  Most of the time, he couldn't wait until the date was over.

But, recently, he met someone new that he really liked, a woman named Cathy, and he wanted to see her again.  He also sensed that she was interested in him.

From then on, Ron's therapy sessions were about how inadequate he felt as a man when he was around Cathy.  As a teenager, he always hoped that he would become an honest man, a man with integrity, and not an "abusive philanderer like my father."  But he also feared that he might grow up to be just like his father, which filled him with dread.

Since he met Cathy, he was surprised that he wanted to spend more time with her and that, beyond their sexual relationship, which was good, he enjoyed her company.

When she asked him to meet her friends at her best friend's birthday party, he felt hesitant because he didn't like hanging out with groups of people, but he knew it was important to Cathy, so he went.  He felt more like an observer than a participant at the party, but he also met a couple of people he thought were interesting.

In the meantime, Ron was feeling more comfortable in his weekly therapy sessions.  Over time, he allowed himself to develop a good working alliance with his psychotherapist, and he opened up more in therapy.

After Ron and Cathy were dating for almost a year, they were talking about moving in together.  Cathy initiated the discussion a few months before her apartment lease was up.  Ron knew this would be the next step in developing their relationship, but he felt deeply ambivalent about living with Cathy.

On the one hand, he would like spending more time with her.  But, on the other hand, he worried that she might not give him enough "space."  He also worried that, if she got to know him more intimately, she might get to know "the real me" and she might not like him (see my article: Overcoming the Fear That People Wont Like You If They Knew the "Real You").

This led back to the discussion about Ron feeling inadequate, and his psychotherapist recognized that Ron was now ready to talk about his earlier memories of feeling inadequate in his family.  So, after a few discussions about trauma therapy, his therapist recommended, and Ron agreed, that they use EMDR therapy to work on his unresolved childhood trauma, which was at the root of his current feelings of being inadequate (see my articles: What is EMDR Therapy? and How Does EMDR Therapy Work: EMDR and the Brain).

During that time, Ron and Cathy began living together in his apartment.  Before they moved in, they talked about what they each needed from each other to make things work.

Ron explained to Cathy that he liked to spend some time alone because this was important to him.  Cathy said she also had hobbies that she liked to pursue, so she didn't mind if Ron had his alone time.  She also talked about how important it was to her to have open communication with Ron about how things were going as they began living together.  This made Ron feel uncomfortable because he had never had such an emotionally intimate romantic relationship before, but he agreed to try it.

As Ron worked on his unresolved childhood trauma in therapy, he began to realize how much shame he experienced as a child because he felt inadequate and like an outsider in his own family.  He realized that he never felt like he belonged anywhere--not at home, not at school or in college, not at work, and not with his buddies (see my article: Feeling Like an Outsider).

He recognized the only people he didn't feel like an outsider with was his mother, Cathy and his psychotherapist.  He began to see how it was related to his unresolved trauma.

Over time, Ron worked through his childhood trauma in therapy.  As he did, his interactions with others became more relaxed.  He still liked his alone time, but now he was able to actually enjoy being around people rather than just tolerating their company.

He realized that this was what had been missing from his life, before he came to therapy and before he began his relationship with Cathy, were meaningful relationships with people.

His fear that Cathy would get to know him better and not like him dissolved as their relationship deepened.  They were even talking about getting married.

Ron began remembering some good times with his father, despite the abuse and abandonment, and told his therapist that he was surprised that these memories were coming back to him.  She told him that EMDR therapy might have opened up these other memories that he suppressed after his father left the household.

Ron became curious about his father and, with much trepidation, Ron contacted him.  He was surprised that his father was happy to hear from him, and they agreed to meet each other for coffee to talk.  That meeting was the first of many where Ron and his father began reconciling their relationship.

Ron found out things he never knew about his father, including how his father was severely abused by his own father as a child.  His father apologized to him for the physical and emotional abuse and for leaving Ron when he was a child.  Ron wasn't sure that he would ever feel comfortable enough to meet his father's new wife, the woman that his father left his mother for when Ron was a child.  But he was willing to keep an open mind about it for the future.

Conclusion
Identifying as a loner is often a defense for people who are unconsciously warding off deeper feelings of feeling like they don't belong.

As I mentioned before, an ability to be alone and enjoy your own company is an important developmental step, and not everyone who enjoys solitude identifies as a loner or falls into this category.

For people who have the deeper issue of warding off shame for feeling inadequate, the defense mechanism of identifying themselves as loners suppresses these painful feelings.

Most of the time, people with this problem never come to therapy.  Those who do come to therapy often come because they feel something is missing in their lives or a spouse or boss tells them to get help because there are problems in their relationship or at work.

When people with these issues come to therapy, psychotherapists must wait until these clients form a solid therapeutic relationship with them before doing trauma therapy or they will risk alienating these clients and also risk these clients leaving therapy prematurely (see my article: When Clients Leave Therapy Prematurely).

There is usually unresolved trauma at the root of these problems, and talk therapy usually isn't enough to resolve the problem.  A more experiential trauma therapy, like EMDR, is more likely to help clients to resolve a traumatic history  (see my article: EMDR Therapy: When Talk Therapy Isn't Enough and Experiential Therapy, Like EMDR Therapy, Helps to Achieve Emotional Breakthroughs).

Getting Help in Therapy
There are some emotional problems are too complex to resolve on your own.  You need the help of a licensed mental health professional (see my article: The Benefits of Psychotherapy).

Finding the psychotherapist who is right for you might involve having consultations with a few therapists until you feel comfortable (see my article: How to Choose a Psychotherapist).

Once you have resolved the problems that have kept you stuck, you can free yourself from a traumatic history and live a more fulfilling life.

About Me
I am a licensed NYC psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, EMDR and Somatic Experiencing therapist (see my article: The Therapeutic Benefits of Integrative Psychotherapy).

I work with individual adults and couples, and I have helped many clients to overcome unresolved problems.

To find out more about me, visit my website: Josephine Ferraro, LCSW - NYC Psychotherapist.

To set up a consultation, call me at (917) 742-2624 during business hours or email me.

Seeing Yourself as Being "Rational" vs. Experiencing Shame For Not Being Able to Feel

As I discussed in my prior article, people often use defense mechanisms as emotional survival strategies when dealing with the underlying issues that would be too overwhelming for them.  These defense mechanisms usually develop early in life when they helped with emotional survival.  But, as adults, these defense mechanisms get in the way of personal development as well as developing healthy relationships.  Suppressing emotions to be "rational," as opposed to feeling ashamed of not being able to feel emotions, is the defense mechanism that I will focus on in this article (see my article: Overcoming Your Fear of So-Called "Negative" Emotions).

Seeing Yourself as Being "Rational" vs. Experiencing Shame For Not Being Able to Feel

People who tend to be rational most of the time, to the exclusion of feeling their emotions, usually pride themselves on their rationality.  They don't realize that they're being rational in order to avoid feeling uncomfortable feelings because this defense mechanism is unconscious.

Sooner or later, being rational in order to avoid feelings causes problems, especially in relationships.  The other partner, who has access to all or most of his or her emotions, gets frustrated with the partner who uses being rational as a defense--while the partner who uses being rational feels comfortable with this and can't understand what all the fuss is about.

A Fictional Clinical Vignette:  Seeing Yourself as "Rational" vs. Feeling Shame for Not Being Able to Feel
The following clinical vignette, although fictional, represents many different real cases and illustrates what often happens when someone uses being rational rather than feeling ashamed for not being able to feel a full range of emotions:

Ed began psychotherapy after his girlfriend, Meg, complained that she was frustrated with him because he tended to be rational and logical rather than allowing himself to feel his emotions.  She told him that if he didn't get help, she would end the relationship because she felt alone and lonely when emotional issues came up.

A recent incident lead to Meg giving Ed an ultimatum: Meg had a miscarriage and she couldn't understand Ed's lack of emotion.  Both Ed and Meg wanted to have a baby for the last few years.  When she got pregnant, they were both happy.  Then, several weeks into the pregnancy, Meg had a miscarriage while she was at home, and Ed took her to the hospital.

When they got home later that night, Meg felt devastated.  She couldn't stop crying, and when she turned to Ed, she felt angry and frustrated that he was so unemotional.  She knew that Ed loved her and really wanted to have the baby, so she couldn't understand how he could be so emotionally detached.

When Meg confronted Ed about it, he told her that, while he understood that she was upset, he thought it didn't make sense for him to get emotional about it, "It won't change anything." He thought it would be best for him to stay calm and recognize that they could try again to have a baby.

Meg knew that Ed loved her.  But she also knew that when it came to dealing with emotions that he felt were unpleasant, he would ward off these feelings by being rational in a way that made her feel like she was alone.  She was so upset by his lack of emotional support about the miscarriage that she left for a few of weeks to stay with a friend.  She said she found it too upsetting to be around him.

Seeing Yourself as Being "Rational" vs. Experiencing Shame For Not Being Able to Feel

Before she left, Ed pleaded with Meg to stay.  He tried to tell her that he loved her and he wanted to have a child.  He just couldn't understand how it would help to get upset about it.  But Meg left anyway and told him to get help in therapy.

As Ed sat in the psychotherapist's office, he told her that he didn't understand why Meg was so upset with him.  He didn't know why she didn't understand how much better it was in this situation to remain rational and not "lose my head" with emotion.  He felt badly that Meg thought he didn't care when, in fact, he really did care a lot.  He said that it was because he cared that he thought it was better to be rational than to be emotional.

As Ed and his psychotherapist explored his family history, he revealed that both of his parents prided themselves on being rational people.  They had each gone through traumatic experiences as children and they believed that they got through those difficult times by being rational and unemotional, which is what they taught Ed and his younger brother, Jack (see my article: Psychotherapy and Intergenerational Trauma).

As he described his family history, his psychotherapist could see that Ed used being rational to ward off feelings that were difficult for him--like sadness and anger.  She understood that this was a long-standing problem for him, and he wouldn't respond well if she proceeded too quickly to explore the feelings that he was warding off.

His psychotherapist asked Ed to give her examples from his childhood when he remained rational under difficult circumstances.  He told her that one of his earliest memories was when he was five losing his beloved dog, who had been part of the family from before Ed was born.

He remembered crying when his parents told him that the dog died.  Then, both of his parents told him to dry his eyes and stop crying because crying wouldn't change anything.  His father told him that it was always better to remain rational and unemotional under these types of circumstances.  So, Ed stopped crying and dried his eyes.

As he reflected on this experience in his psychotherapist's office, he said he agreed with his parents and he thought they taught him a valuable lesson about remaining rational during difficult times.  He knew that when each of them escaped their country of origin as children with their parents, it helped them to remain rational and unemotional, and he was glad he learned this lesson at an early age.

He thought the same idea applied to Meg's miscarriage.  Rather than being upset about it, he thought, they should focus on the positive things in their lives and try to have a baby again (see my article: Are You Using Your Idea of "Positive Thinking" As a Form of Denial).

A few weeks later, Meg called Ed and told him that she decided to take a break from the relationship. She wanted time to think about what she really wanted, and she would get back to him.

Seeing Yourself as Being "Rational" vs. Experiencing Shame For Not Being Able to Feel

By the time Ed came to his next psychotherapy session, he said he felt like he was "going crazy."  Ever since he received the call from Meg, he felt completely overwhelmed.  He couldn't sleep, eat or concentrate at work.

He kept trying to tell him that being upset wouldn't help him, but it made no difference--he continued to feel upset.  This made no sense to him at all, which is why he felt like he was "going crazy." He said he felt like he desperately needed help or "I'll lose my mind."

Ed's psychotherapist understood that Ed's usual defense mechanism of being rational wasn't working for him now.  In the past, he was able to suppress his feelings by being rational, but his feelings for Meg were so strong that his defense mechanism wasn't working.  Since Ed wasn't accustomed to dealing with strong unpleasant emotions, he felt like he was losing his mind.

His psychotherapist assured Ed that he wasn't losing his mind--he was having a normal reaction to the possible loss of his relationship.  Then, sensing that he was now open because he was in an emotional crisis, she provided him with psychoeducation about defense mechanisms (see my article: How a Crisis Open You Up to Positive Changes).

His psychotherapist normalized Ed's reaction to Meg wanting to take time away and helped him to deal with his emotions.  Over time, Ed discovered in therapy how he learned to suppress uncomfortable emotions by using the defense mechanism of being rational.

He also learned that deep down he felt ashamed for not being able to feel all of his emotions, and being rational suppressed his shame.  In addition, he learned that it was healthier for him to be able to experience the full range of all his emotions rather than suppressing them.

His psychotherapist helped Ed to strengthen his tolerance for experiencing the emotions that he had been avoiding (see my article: Expanding Your Window of Tolerance in Psychotherapy).

Over time, he became more comfortable with unpleasant emotions like sadness, grief, and anger, and he also dealt with the losses that he never dealt with as a child.  Although he had to get accustomed to  feeling the full range of his emotions, he told his psychotherapist that he felt relieved to experience these emotions rather than suppress them.

After several months, Meg came back and they dealt with the loss related to the miscarriage together.  Although he was relieved to feel all his emotions, there were still times when Ed thought it was easier, in some ways, not to deal with the unpleasant emotions.  But he also knew that it was healthier for him to experience all of his feelings.

Conclusion
Just like any other defense mechanism, being rational without dealing with uncomfortable emotions, serves to ward off uncomfortable emotions. People who are adamant about being rational and logical, rather than experiencing their emotions, usually don't realize that they're defending against their emotions.

Most of the time, it's a defense mechanism that they learned at an early age, and they really believe that it's a healthy coping strategy.  But being rational and suppressing feelings doesn't work, as in the vignette above.

When a defense mechanism doesn't work, this can create an emotional crisis, which might enable the person in crisis to be more open to looking at his or her emotional survival strategy and to consider change.

With tact and sensitivity for a client's vulnerable state, a skilled psychotherapist can help a client to explore this emotional survival strategy and how s/he can change.

The psychotherapist can also help the client to gradually strengthen his or her window of tolerance to be able to experience emotions that are being defended against.

Getting Help in Therapy
Longstanding emotional survival strategies can be very difficult for you to change on your own (see my article: The Benefits of Psychotherapy).

If your emotional survival strategies aren't working for you, you owe it to yourself to get help in therapy.

Learning healthier coping strategies can help you to experience your full range of emotions so you can feel more alive.

Rather than struggling on your own, get help from a licensed mental health professional (see my article: How to Choose a Psychotherapist).

About Me
I am a licensed NYC psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, EMDR and Somatic Experiencing therapist (see my article:  The Therapeutic Benefits of Integrative Psychotherapy).

I work with individual adults and couples.

I have helped many clients to overcome trauma and develop healthy coping strategies so they could go on to live more fulfilling lives.

To find out more about me, visit my website: Josephine Ferraro, LCSW - NYC Psychotherapist.

To set up a consultation, call me at (917) 742-2624 during business hours or email me.

Masking Vulnerability and Shame By Pretending You Don't Need Anyone

As I have mentioned in prior articles, defense mechanisms are important in terms of keeping you from feeling overwhelmed, especially when you're a child and you're in a physically or emotionally abusive family situation.  

But when you become an adult, these same defense mechanisms get in the way of having access to a full range of emotions.  Aside from having negative consequences for your emotional development, your relationships suffer as well.  

One common defense mechanism is developing a pride-based identification to cover up shame.  For instance, a child who was neglected or abused grows into an adult who sees himself as being "independent" (not needing anyone) as opposed to dealing his underlying emotions--experiencing shame and hurt for feeling like a burden to his family (see my article:  Emotional Survival Strategies That No Longer Work For You: "I Don't Need Anyone").

Masking Vulnerability and Shame

It's understandable why a child, who has to fend for himself at a young age, would rather see himself as being independent and not needing anyone else.

But this is really a pseudo-independence because children can never really be independent in terms of their emotional and physical needs. Children who are neglected or abused might have no other choice, if they want to survive, than to try to take care of their own needs as best as they can at a great cost to their psychological development and, possibly, their physical development.

It would be too overwhelming for a young child, who has to take care of his own needs, to also try to come to terms with why his parents aren't taking care of him.  So, instead of dealing with the emotional pain involved with that, they develop defense mechanisms that prevent them from feeling overwhelmed, including pride-based identifications ("I'm independent so I don't need anyone") and emotional numbing (see my article: What Happens When You Numb Yourself to Your Traumatic Past?).

The defense mechanism of believing yourself to be independent, which excludes others, masks a deeper sense that the parents didn't take care of the child.  Emotional numbing can numb or mute most feelings.  By shutting off the hurt and anger, you also shut off emotions of joy and happiness.

In addition, you could grow up to feel that you can't trust anyone, so you have to take care of all your needs on your own.  This has negative repercussions for developing healthy relationships.  Some people, who grow up feeling pseudo-independent, unconsciously choose relationships where they have to take care of the other person.  Other people decide to remain alone.

Whether you choose people who you have to take care of and who will never meet your needs or you choose to remain alone, sadly, you can live your entire life trying to maintain the myth that you don't need others in order to avoid dealing with your traumatic history.

When people who believe themselves to be independent, without needing others, come to therapy, they often say they come for other reasons.  Their defense mechanism of feeling pseudo-independent is so firmly established that they don't see it or how it affects their lives.

A skilled psychotherapist usually won't address this dynamic directly at the start of therapy because, in most cases, it would be too emotionally threatening to a client who uses this defense mechanism if the therapist addresses it prematurely.  The therapist needs to assess when the client would be ready to deal with these issues.

A Fictional Clinical Vignette: Seeing Yourself as Independent vs. Feeling Shame For Feeling Like a Burden
The following fictional clinical vignette is based on many different cases and illustrates the issues outlined above and how psychotherapy can help:

Tom, who was in his early 30s, began psychotherapy reluctantly because he was having problems at work.  His director praised Tom's work, but he also told Tom that he needed to learn to be a team player.

Specifically, his director referred to a recent project where the tasks for the project were divided among Tom and four other employees, but Tom took on the whole project and completed it himself by working late nights and weekends.  The director reiterated what a great job Tom did, but he told him that Tom's coworkers felt they missed an opportunity to shine on this project.  In addition, they complained that Tom was aloof and avoided interacting with them.  As a result, the director told Tom that he wanted him to develop better relationships with his team and learn to be a part of the team rather than taking on the whole project.

Tom told his psychotherapist that there would be a big new project coming up in a few months where everyone on Tom's team, including Tom, would be assigned a role, and his director expected Tom to interact well with his teammates while he sticks to his assigned role.

Tom told his psychotherapist that he preferred to work alone, even if it meant that he worked many hours.  But his director made himself clear, and Tom didn't want to appear uncooperative or lose his job.  He needed to learn how to, at least, appear like a team player, but he knew this would be stressful for him, which is what brought him to therapy.

He said that he never thought he would seek help in therapy because, from the time he was a young child, he prided himself on being "independent" and "never needed anyone."  Similar to when he was a child, as an adult, he spent most of his time alone, and he preferred it that way.

When his psychotherapist asked Tom to describe his childhood, Tom wasn't sure where to start.  He folded his arms defensively, and asked his therapist what she wanted to know.  Then, he added that he couldn't see how his childhood was relevant to his current problem.

Not wanting to alienate Tom, his psychotherapist asked Tom a few brief questions about his childhood and assumed that, over time, she would find out more when he was ready.  Tom responded to his therapist's questions by saying, "I had a great childhood.  There were no problems in my childhood.  My parents did the best they could."

Over time, Tom divulged more details about his childhood.  He mentioned that he was an only child.  He said his parents were often out of the house much of the time.  His father was a musician who was frequently at gigs at night.  After the gigs, his father and band mates would go out to drink ("My father had a little bit of a drinking problem.  It wasn't really that bad"). He said his mother worked three jobs to make ends meet because his father's gigs didn't bring in much money.   As a result, Tom was mostly alone, so he learned to fend for himself at a young age, which he said gave him a great sense of pride.

His psychotherapist could see that Tom was a neglected child, who developed the defense mechanism of seeing himself as "independent" rather than neglected and he had an avoidant attachment style.  She could also tell that Tom was nowhere near being ready to deal with this, so she didn't want to address it prematurely.

After Tom talked about his parents, he looked uncomfortable and, even though she said nothing, he accused the psychotherapist of trying to say that he had "bad parents."  He told her that he had "the best parents in the world" and wouldn't allow anyone to say that they weren't (see my article: How Your Attachment Style Can Affect Your Relationship With Your Psychotherapist).

In response, his psychotherapist recognized that Tom was using projection as a defense mechanism--projecting his own unconscious and disowned feelings about his parents onto her. She tactfully pointed out to Tom that she had not said a word about his parents and wondered what was going on.

Tom seemed to recover himself and apologized.  He said one of the reasons why he avoided coming to therapy in the past was that he assumed that "all psychotherapists" blamed clients' parents, and he had strong feelings about anyone blaming his parents, "I won't allow anyone to say anything negative about my parents."

In the meantime, Tom was dealing with his situation at work by "pretending" to like his coworkers and to feel like he was part of the team.  He said he only did it to save his job, but he felt like "a phony,"which he hated.   At the same time, he admitted that, as he got to know his teammates better, he was starting to like them a little.

As previously mentioned, in his personal life, Tom spent most of his time alone.  Occasionally, he visited his parents to help them with chores and also to help them financially.  His parents were both retired now and dealing with medical problems.

His mother had arthritis so bad that there were days when she was in severe pain.  His father developed liver problems several years before, and his doctor convinced the father that he had to stop drinking.  Although they continued to live together, his parents lived parallel lives with their own friends.  Tom also suspected that his father was having an extramarital affair, but Tom used the defense mechanism of minimization by saying, "Well, he's unhappy, so I don't blame him."

Tom told his psychotherapist that he dated casually from time to time, but he had no real interest in being in a relationship.  When he wasn't helping his parents, he spent most of his time watching TV or playing video games alone.

It took several months for Tom to begin to trust his psychotherapist and to develop a therapeutic alliance with her.  He focused mostly on his work and avoided talking about his personal life.

One day, Tom came in and told his therapist that he watched a TV program where a sad young boy was left at home alone most of the time, and this boy would cry a lot when he was alone.  Tom said that while he was watching the program, he realized that he was crying too, but he didn't know why, "It was only a TV program.  I don't know why it would make me sad.  I know it's not real."

He said, even as he sat in his therapist's office now, he felt like crying about the TV program, and he felt silly about this.  In response, his therapist asked Tom if he would be willing to explore this further.  Tom said that, on the one hand, he felt silly wasting his time in therapy talking about a TV program.  But, he said, on the other hand, he realized that he was deeply affected by this program.

As they explored Tom's reaction to the TV program, Tom told his therapist that he felt sorry for the young boy because his parents left him alone and he was lonely and scared.  As he continued to talk about his emotional reaction to the young boy, suddenly he stopped, "Oh my God!  That boy was me!"

With this realization, Tom burst into tears.  He sobbed for a few minutes, and afterwards, when he recovered, he said he now understood why he felt so sad for the boy in the TV program.  He said this boy's story was also his story.

This sudden realization helped Tom to open up in his therapy.  Over the next few months, Tom opened up more about how sad and lonely he felt as a young boy.  Although he was careful not to blame his parents, he now understood how sad and scary it was for him to be alone so much when he was a child.

A big part of his therapy was mourning what he needed but didn't get as a child.  Waves of grief washed over Tom each time.  Afterwards, he said he felt relieved to allow himself to feel his sadness and, eventually, his anger too, at being left alone.

Another part of his therapy was coming to terms with having seen himself for so many years as being "independent," which masked his sadness and loneliness for feeling like he was a burden to his parents when he was younger.

Tom also realized that, on some level, he still felt like people would see him as a burden, and this was why he tended to remain alone.  He assumed that he was an unlovable person that no one would want.  But instead of allowing himself to feel these feelings, before he got to this point in his therapy, he defended against these feelings by having a general disdain for others (see my article: Overcoming the Pain of Feeling Unlovable).

Masking Vulnerability and Shame 

Over time, as Tom continued to work on these issues in therapy, he allowed himself to form better working relationships at work.  He also took risks in his personal life to develop friendships and a romantic relationship.

Conclusion
Children who are physically abused or neglected often develop defense mechanisms to ward off the overwhelming sadness and anger they feel.  As a child, these defense mechanisms work to ward off overwhelming feelings at a time when children don't have anyone to help them to deal with the feelings.

A common defense mechanism is for these children is a pride-based defense of seeing themselves as "independent" rather than face the fact that they are in over their heads trying to take care of themselves.  This defense, which is unconscious, is much easier for them than the underlying shame they really feel for feeling like a burden to their parents.

When these children become adults, they continue to use this defense mechanism to avoid their underlying feelings.  They often have an avoidant attachment style that makes it difficult for them to form relationships with others.  But, in reality, what they perceive as "independence" is really a pseudo-independence that masks shame, hurt and anger.

Sadly, many people live their whole lives warding off their shame, anger and sadness to preserve their false sense of independence and a much-needed false image of "a great childhood."

Often, adults with a false sense of independence, due to childhood neglect or abuse, come to therapy for other reasons.  They might be having problems with relationships at work or in their personal lives.  They might think they have "communication problems."  But the reality is that the problems are much deeper, and it often takes time in therapy for clients to feel safe enough to explore these issues.

Getting Help in Therapy
If you think you might have developed defense mechanisms in childhood that are causing you problems as an adult, you could benefit from attending psychotherapy (see my article: The Benefits of Psychotherapy).

A skilled psychotherapist can help you in a way that feels safe for you to deal with these issues (see my article: How to Choose a Psychotherapist).

Many psychotherapy clients say that, once they have dealt with these underlying issues, they feel so much more alive and energized because they're no longer using so much energy to ward off emotions that are difficult for them.

Rather than suffering on your own, you owe it to yourself to get help so you can live a more authentic and meaningful life.

About Me
I am a licensed NYC psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, EMDR and Somatic Experiencing therapist (see my article:  The Therapeutic Benefits of Integrative Psychotherapy).

I work with individual adults and couples, and I have helped many clients to overcome trauma.

To find out more about me, visit my website: Josephine Ferraro, LCSW - NYC Psychotherapist.

To set up a consultation, call me at (917) 742-2624 during business hours or email me.