Who are you? Self-explorers and emotional metamorphosis

We pass through life like a sponge, or a sticky surface, picking up bits and pieces of experiences every waking hour. A fragment of a sound, a flitting glimpse, or a powerful moment all enter our memory through the faithful conduits – our senses.

Once inside the memory, all “outside sensory fragments” gets progressively shuffled and reattached into an ever-changing mosaic. This experiential mosaic gets mixed with the “inside sensory fragments” – our perceptions, thoughts, memories of memories and all the fleeting emotions that are being generated at all times. And so, rather than a static perception of your own self, you have an ever changing internal image – a kaleidoscope. This is your subjective image – a fascinating picture of which you are the only spectator. The rest perceive you in a limited and myopic way – devoid of your memories, your emotions, your experiences, your thoughts and perceptions. Consequently, you have no one to share with the most existential question of all: “who am I?” Even the closest, most loving of your observers, are limited by their own subjective sense of self and the narrow spectrum they are able to perceive of you.

Whether liberating or scary it befalls up to you to define yourself to yourself. No one can tell you who you are because they do not know. And those who tell you they know are invariably missing a large part of the picture.

Since our perception of ourselves is constantly shifting, the question “who am I?” seems to be hopelessly elusive. Being able to observe yourself with detached objectivity, without your own self being involved, is impossible. As in quantum mechanics, as soon as you observe yourself you are instantly altered.

What is the “real you”? Is there a fundamental, essential core of who you are? A “you” who is independent of your observers and your own changing perception of yourself? Does anything gets created when you are born and continues “with you” for the rest of your life? You might even ask, is there anything that is me and is larger than my mortal life? Is there a me that existed before I was born and would continue after I die?

I for one do not believe there is a hardcore, immutable, real you, that hides under all the layers accumulated with the years. Of course our brain is wired in unimaginable complex way and some of the wiring seems permanent – at least less accessible to change. But our real self is ever changing. It is our myths about ourselves that freezes our evolution, as it is not in sync with the changes of our lives.

You may think: Does it really matter? I live my life very well without chasing after who I am. I don’t care for unnecessary philosophical paradoxes and existential angst; just want to live my life without complicating it.

Indeed, Many get extremely uncomfortable when asked, “who are you?” The most common answer I encounter is, I don’t know. Some even say emphatically, I don’t want to know! We are scared of having an honest self-evaluation. And so we create layers of myth to separate and isolate us from our “real selves”.

Most of us feel distressed by the irreversible. Simply put, you may be worried that if forced to really, honestly, look at yourself you will never be able to lie to yourself again. Perhaps you fear that uncovering the “real you” would justify your insecurities, and validate your self-loathing. You have worked so hard to convince yourself you are a certain way, and here comes the “real you” and throws the truth in your face. You may fear you will become aware that there was, after all, something to hide. And this awareness would irrevocably devastate your ability to hide behind your “tried and true” well-worn masks.

Successful psychotherapy is ultimately about self-discovery. And a desirable outcome is attaining authentic relationship with yourself. I find the fear of authenticity to be the major obstacle on the road to emotional recovery and strength. Often, while dealing with the fear of self-reflection I am tempted to “just let it go.” Just stay on the surface and be supportive and assuage the fear. There is nothing wrong with that, and frankly it is often very helpful, especially in crisis times. But my patient’s inner world is not as forgiving as I am. Disguising the inner core of who you are claims a severe price for the concealment.

Metaphorically, your ongoing relations with your emotional masquerade can be described in this way: Imagine that when you were very young you used to walk around wearing a costume. You were very cute and you felt great. But as you grow in years, the costume does not grow with you. Eventually you end up with an ill fitting, worn out costume maladjusted to your changing life circumstances. Hiding behind a badly adapted costume is actually worse than no costume at all.

And here lies the simple truth about life: we cannot lie to ourselves and we do not have to lie to the others. We cannot be “more” than who we are – we are bound by our own set of hard-wired neurons. But by hiding from our true self we risk living an ambiguous second-rate life. It is like looking at the world with fogged up lenses. You get the general sense but not the details.

Life becomes so much richer when the details are in focus. The little things, the everyday things, the places we always return to, where we mostly are.

The large picture is too large for our control. We cannot ensure that all the pieces would fit together. We cannot reach, we don’t complete, we have no time, we chase our own tail never fully satisfied.

That is ultimately the paradox of self-lies: you cannot lie to the person who already knows the truth. You know who you are. And it is not worse or better – It is exactly you! The wonderful reward of self-discovery is the ability to spend quality time with your own self. Nothing to hide, no need to distract. You are enjoying the company of yourself. Imagine your surprise to discover you had loathed the made up self! The self you really weren’t. Your guilt, your pain, your regrets owe as much to self-deception as to the other aspects of your life.

Once you are convinced that a genuine self-discovery will transform and upgrade your life, you are ready to embark on your psychological expedition. And you need a companion much like a deep-sea diver, to watch your back.

That is one of the sublime pleasures of my profession. Putting on the gear, making sure it fits, and plunging together into the depth. This is a journey that would allow you to feel yourself, rather than look at yourself, be yourself rather than conceive a made-up self.

In Metamorphosis Kafka never says exactly what Gregor Samsa turned into: Some sort of a giant, insect-like creature. Vladimir Nabokov famously said that Samsa was a big beetle with wings under its shell. It could have flown away. Instead Gregor Samsa, who was his family’s tireless provider, becomes increasingly a burden on his family, until he crawls back to his bedroom and dies to rid them of him. In my mind it conjures up the scope of old age – the sad metamorphosis into a burdensome existence.

As you slowly transform from a newborn into the rest of your life, your metamorphosis is preordained by your genes and shaped by your circumstances. You ultimately have very little effect on either one. But underneath the relentless river of time, in the depth of your mind, lies the secret to your happiness. You can plunge into the deep and soar up to the peaks charting another trajectory to your life. Something that you own, that depends on you, which transcends the reduction of your life into submission and growing exhaustion. You have a choice.

 

When Should You Stop Trying? The “Hunger Artist” Syndrome

Frequently, people reveal to me that they invest their lives in what has become a hopeless pursuit. Laboring over doomed initiative, despairing to repair badly broken relationship, undoing what cannot be undone – the possibilities for futile pursuits are endless. I have often wondered what is the underpinning of this behavior. After all, as we all know, letting go is sometimes the best remedy for unsuccessful efforts. In deciding whether to continue or stop a particular endeavor, we struggle with a host of competing forces. We often feel that we have to choose between two options: either stubborn persistence, or premature surrender. Either one does not make sense. Continuing to fight to the bitter end or giving up without trying are both depleting and distressing.

We tend to glorify perseverance in face of the intractable; those who “never give up” are perceived as heroic. Conversely, those who stop trying too soon are scorned as “failures”. Therefore, the communal pressure is to continue and try even when a recalcitrant issue becomes clearly hopeless. It makes us feel heroic for not giving up.

So many of us have thrown away precious pieces of our lives, struggling with the unyielding.

As a psychiatrist, I firmly believe that one of my duties is to help my patient decide when to stop trying. This process is compounded by the dependency on the person’s perception and account. One of my methods is to look beyond the “good reasons” – i.e. the person’s subjective and often self-deceptive point of view, to uncover the “real reasons” – i.e. the complex, and more objective factors that produce the issue. In deciding when to stop trying, we should consider: 

  1. What delineates between the difficult and the hopeless?
  2. What is the difference between strategic retreat and a failure?
  3. What makes one kind of effort necessary and another superfluous?

Those questions are at the core of much anguish over a fruitless struggle.

Naturally, It feels wrong to quit something you have invested so much into; there seems to be no right or “good” timing to actually stop trying. How would you know if all this effort was in vain? Try this: juxtapose the time you have spent so far with the tangible and real results. The math is not straightforward but still possible. In other words do not think about the future – it is always elusive and uncertain. Look at the past. Look at your investment and the yield. Often this simple exercise results in a startling awakening; could it be that so much of your life, time and energy, has been invested with such disappointing results? I often think of the cartoon character that in haste continues in thin air after having overrun the cliff: Only when the character looks down, realizing its predicament, does it plummet. This zany cartoon logic is actually quite prevalent. Many continue to run on thin air not daring to look at the reality lest they drop.

Of course some struggles can never be designated useless. Such is the struggle of parents for their children. Parents cannot give up – we are conditioned by our genes to forgive our children and continue to support them. Sometimes, as in the case of drug or alcohol abuse, the struggle may yield no results other than the notion that the parent has been trying anything they can. This notion in itself is worth the struggle and provides the parents with unending energy. Another case is of those who dedicate their life to some pursuit larger than themselves: people who struggle politically, ideologically, etc. In these instances, the struggle is in itself the goal and as such cannot be deemed hopeless. But thankfully, most of us do not need to sacrifice our life for a sick child or a particular ideology. Our life’s “ordinary” futile struggles occur in the two Freudian spheres: Love and work.

Ask yourself:

Does your romantic partner merit the inordinate energy you spend hoping to be happy in your relationship one day?

Should you spend a large amount of your only life trying to succeed in a career you are obviously not happy with?

Let’s sharpen the focus: here you are, in charge of your only life! Even if you believe in reincarnation this is the only life you have as yourself. And yet, you throw away chunks of your precious life- days, months and years – on something or someone that is depleting your sense of well being, causing you pain and seems immutable.

What could be the reasons to this unhelpful behavior?

Here are some possible reasons:

  1. You do not like yourself and secretly feel that you deserve this life of punishment.
  2. You are an incorrigible optimist and hope against hope that your efforts would somehow succeed eventually.
  3. You do not see/realize the futility of your efforts.
  4. You believe, ideologically, culturally, philosophically in suffering.
  5. You believe in efforts for the sake of efforts.
  6. For you – trying harder, irrespective of the results, is satisfying in and off itself.
  7. You have extraneous reasons beyond your control: family ties, all kinds of debt, a deep sense of duty etc.
  8. You feel ideologically beholden to promoting sacrifice for the others over your own needs. You put your needs last.
  9. You believe that your life should be a life of service no matter in what context. (And perhaps in extreme, you have unconscious masochistic tendencies)
  10. You enjoy being a martyr, feeling sorry for yourself and/or receiving pity from others.
  11. It gives you something/someone other than yourself to blame for your unhappiness.

I am sure that there are more reasons, but usually it is a mix of many of the above.

My work has taught me that we are largely irrational beings. Our logical presentation to ourselves and to the world around us is merely the tiniest tip of the iceberg. The complex “you”, in all trillions upon trillions of cellular activities, is silently happening below the surface, ever present but not conscious. If you had to consciously operate even a trillionth of your cellular activity, you would not have survived even a split second. But the subconscious activity is not on “auto-pilot”. In fact often the conscious “you” is more likely to be operating on automatic predictability. The cellular activity, the unfathomable iceberg, is constantly piloted – fine-tuned by our nervous system and by the cells themselves. In the setting of this astonishing, wondrous machinery given to us at birth, we are like a goat trying to operate a space shuttle. Not only are we unhelpful: we are often an outright interference to our harmony and equilibrium. We consume and inhale manmade toxins, rest too little, worry and stress too much over petty issues, get enraged by the soon to be forgettable, etc. Luckily, our body’s resilience has the power to repair, at least to an extent.

But our body rightfully does not trust us. It lets us focus only on very narrow band of attention. And for nature at large, what we do with ourselves does not really matter.

Once our expiration date arrives, our body disintegrates to the basic building blocks, our molecules, which then get recycled into another cellular collection. But you, you are never going to be replicated. Not even one second of your life can be retrieved, repeated or lived again.

This is the question I ask myself every day: Does my life, my only life, my one time existence as myself, make sense to me?

I suggest you ask yourself the same question. Don’t be scared; you are not a cartoon character, you are not running on thin air, and looking down would not make you fall into the abyss. You have enough defense mechanisms that would soften the blow of the answer. You will be able to ask yourself these follow-up questions:

If something in my life does not make sense, what is it?

What is the price I pay for not examining this question?

What can I do to change what doesn’t make sense?

How can I live with the change?

Admittedly, this line of questioning is better off done at the therapist’s office. Why? Because the therapist can help you stay honest, and not let you disappear into another layer of myth and self lies that “ helped” you sustain the unnecessary suffering. We have little courage to face ourselves alone. And a good therapist is the right companion and guide for this particular journey.

There you are, holding the steering wheel of your life in your hands, looking into the future with a mixture of excitement and fear. At long last you are navigating your life in a trajectory that minimizes the negative and maximizes the positive. That simple and obvious concept always turns out to be better than what you thought of as “the only way”.

The Jay Gatsby Syndrome: Otherness And The Notion of Belonging

I like to linger where the inner and the outer worlds meet. The big drama of nature and nurture, the complex veiled interactions and clandestine exchanges, they never fail to fascinate. In my younger years I often stood at that particular precipice and dove into the infinite depth of the subconscious. But now I know, that a lot happens at the place I once thought of as mere passage to the real thing. Most of my insights into human nature are discovered in the gossamer membrane between the worlds. This infinitesimal barrier is holding back our emotional content from spilling outside, and conversely, from the outside world to rush in and overwhelm what has been built in years of patience and struggle.

Most of us treat the juncture between the realms of the self and the collective quite casually. We move fluidly and imperceptibly in eternal circular movement between our inner and outer world. But for some of us, those boundaries are more a hurdle than an open door. Early in my work with patients, I recognized a subgroup of people with “inter-realm flow difficulties” who struggle with the transition between the inner and outer lives. I term this attribute “otherness.”

Otherness is a natural minority trait, akin to being left-handed or redhead, therefore it is often quite isolating in a majority group. We are naturally social, and derive a sense of well being and strength from belonging to a group. The nature of the group itself is secondary. It could even be a group of “anti group non conformers” so long as the members can bond with like-minded people. While many animals live in groups small and large only humans can cohere around a concept. The notion of being like-minded is key in understanding human nature, as it is unique to humans. Having a mind allows us to connect with people who think like us, something no other animal seems to posses. Conversely, having a mind can make us feel different and lonely and isolated, even if outwardly we seem like a successful member of the group.

Belonging becomes an issue around the age of 8, as soon as the tight adult supervision of early childhood begins to wane. We are left to fend for ourselves as the children society starts cohering around its own rules, and slowly drops below the adults’ radar. Throughout middle and high school, your friendships are forged based on a small, limited and seldom changing pool of peers. Essentially your grade mates are your community – the main actors with whom you perform your adolescent drama. Belonging to a pre-adult community, entails a strict adherence to its rules. Breaches of the rules or individuality are not tolerated and the transgressors are punished by exclusion and banishment, with little if any empathy or mercy. At no other period in life, does the feeling of otherness conflict so painfully with a strong desire to belong. Consequently, puberty and young adulthood tend to be intensely incompatible and bruising for non-belongers compared with any other period of life.

We are all born solipsistic – i.e., being unable to relate, and having no words to communicate with. In a way we are locked in our inner world, physically helpless and unable to partake in the outside communal world. Within a few months, even though our communication skills have not changed much, we show the first communal trait that will animate our lives: we start experiencing discomfort, when being left alone. That desire to be with others, the unpleasant sensation of loneliness, directs us towards the community even at the preverbal phase. We may not be able to relate, nor to understand the codes of interpersonal behavior, but we already want to belong.

The transition from the solipsistic experience of infancy, through childhood’s evolving awareness and responsiveness to the community, and finally the teenage crescendo of sameness and uniformity, does not unfold smoothly in the otherness person. The difficulty to belong to a group is not overtly apparent. Many people with otherness are empathic, outgoing, and seemingly sociable. I call them “pseudo extroverts”. It is significant that a person with otherness trait desires to belong much like anyone else. He or she lacks the ability but not the yearning. And therein rests the inner conflict of the otherness person.

By now, one may wonder, is otherness a cognitive or emotional disorder? The simple answer: it is not, but the experience is likely to cause some emotional difficulties. As opposed to relational disorders such as Asperger’s syndrome or personality disorders, a person with otherness traits can be, and often is, very perceptive and empathetic. They have no problem in embracing others, or creating loving relationship. They are not odd, or tempestuous, or self centered. In fact there is no obvious distinction from any well-adjusted individual. The distinction lies in the inability to belong.

In itself, the sense of belonging and loyalty to a group is natural and common. Becoming a member in a group is either passive or active. In certain groups, membership is automatic: family, physical attributes, ethnicity. Those are groups where individual members do not choose, or even prefer to belong to, but rather are being assigned to by their society. The assigned, or “natural” groups tend to be static or to change slowly in the course of one’s life.

The other types are the groups which one chooses to belong to. Social and professional activities present endless opportunities: A bunk at summer camp, a sports team, a certain group of friends, a professional organization, a social club etc. These elective membership groups, either exclusive or inclusive, entail an effort on the part of the individual to be included and remain in the group.

And so from birth to death, we belong to groups, and seek to belong to others. Often the only sacrifice we are required to make in order to belong, is to compromise some of our individual notions and needs for the communal ones. Most people flow rather effortlessly with this, and in fact do not view this as a sacrifice at all. But for an otherness person, subjugating the individual for the communal is sometimes an impossible, all-consuming emotional effort.

If you are an “otherness person” your difference from the majority lies in your difficulty to shift smoothly from the inner to the outer world: from the individual to the communal. You end up spending inordinate amount of time in your own mind even if surrounded by people. Your facade is interacting with the rest, but it is empty of you. What is a translucent, totally permeable membrane for most, is opaque and barely traversable for you. And you may not know it. You may treat your otherness as invisible shackles, making it harder for you to be you. You realize that some truly simple aspects of life, which accordingly are so easy for the others, are inexplicably very difficult for you.

People with otherness do not know why they are different. They go through long life stretches, unable to enjoy the benefits of togetherness. You may be the “life of the party”, but inside you are like a child whose parents have company past your bedtime; you are again lying in your little bed, in another room, while the laughter and voices of your parents party drift in and out of your sleep, mysterious and far. Otherness is an innate trait that like extremes of height or having green eyes, confers a status of minority wherever you are. Much like other outlier traits, it can be modified very little if at all. I like the analogy of otherness to left-handedness. Like otherness, it is a congenital trait that renders the person almost imperceptibly different from most. However, it has a profound effect on the cognitive experience. And while Left-handedness does not intrude in a person’s life , trying to modify it does. No matter how much one practices using the right side, the left would always remain the natural, comfortable one.

So “hanging out” at the inter-world juncture, appreciating the ease of flow, has become another clinical focus for my work. Knowing where to look, I encounter many people who meet my criteria for otherness, but could not explain the feeling to themselves. I meet those whose lifelong ambition to embrace a group, any group, the way others do, has been repeatedly thwarted. All they can do is simulate devotion to some socially acceptable (or even required) groups, but fail to experience the emotional intensity binding the other group members. They struggle to belong, they try harder than the rest, but they correctly observe that most people do not share the same difficulty. Indeed, most people flow effortlessly between the individual and the communal, feeling no impeding boundary. The bonds formed among the collective, easily spill into the individual members, and take root in their inner worlds. In that environment of shared bonhomie, the otherness person is lost, unable to join the emotional flow of the group. Walking alone among good friends and relatives and spending inordinate time in their own inner world, the otherness person is an eternal loner in a world of community.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Immortality

The meaning of life is that it stops   ~ Frantz Kafka

Often when speaking with someone about his or her plans or their present situation I am tempted to say: “this is a great strategy provided you are an immortal”. We constantly move among several spheres at the same time; the inner world, the outside world, subconscious and conscious, our family, community, the world at large, the past, the present, the future. For the fortunate among us, the rapid transition is imperceptible: others get stuck in one sphere, or emotionally bleed on their jagged edges as they pass through. But we all inhabit those spheres thanks to our consciousness.

Our inner world, our memories, and our place in the community would all disappear with our demise. The rest of the spheres would continue without us. That is one of the facts we must grapple with, as depressing and painful as it is. It is in fact so painful to think about, that most of us do our best to ignore it.

When do we become aware of our own mortality? As infants, we have no concept of anything other than our inner world, some hazy surrounding, and no clear memories. Then, at age 3, we start to understand the impermanence of certain things and become fearful of separation from our parents. But as children we are mostly worried about out parents’ mortality and not our own. In our twenties we realize our own mortality but feel immortal. It is in your thirties, as you feel the first bites of time, when you finally realize: My time here is limited. That of course is the price we pay for our consciousness. An animal becomes aware of its death only when it is actually dying. We humans, have to bear the cross of mortal fear, always looming in the background of our mind.

Now, that the proverbial “fear of death” becomes a reality, we must find a way to cope with it. The most common strategy we use is denial; we deny/ignore our mortality. This, most universal defense of denial, is an important pillar of our notion of hope, and is very welcome. Hopefulness permits us to be imaginative, daring and adventurous. Much of what we are committed to in the present is an outcome of a decision made by our younger, less informed self. In fact, we make the most important decisions – such as partner and career – when we still believe in immortality. We commit to the entire trajectory of our life at an age when the future lies ahead boundless and mysterious like an ocean, and the past is palpably close.

All of the above are totally normal features of life. We commonly set during the immortality phase the two anchors of life, work and love, to mitigate this daredevil attitude of youth. Like all anchors they can ideally ground us, or, as often happens, immobilize us. It depends on the elasticity of the tether. That is to say your ability to shift smoothly from denial to reality when the situation calls for. Ideally, your life should have strong anchors and elastic long tethers. Your relationship and your work should ground you rather than immobilize you. However, some people get carried away with a successful denial, and start behaving as if they can linger indefinitely in a situation that is bringing them down, waiting for the next act.

Sooner or later, as your future’s shrinking act quickens, your ability to deny the inevitable wears thin. Your past, once a source of joy and embarrassment, trails behind you dense with vague, almost forgotten memories, like an aging dog. You become more experienced, perhaps wiser, and the wheel of time starts spinning faster. You realize that you must evaluate your life before it is too late.

I developed a mini scale I call “The Dr. K. existential Scale” to evaluate one’s life on an ongoing, daily basis. In its crudest form it asks one question concerning your immediate environment: How does this person/ place/ activity influence your life: Does it have a positive, neutral or negative impact on you?

 

The scale looks something like that:

Screen shot 2014-07-09 at 10.12.34 AM

 

Of course it is very simplistic: Your relations with a person, a place, or a situation tend to be more complex than merely negative positive and neutral. In fact, even the mere notions of negative and positive are shifting: what is good today can become horrible tomorrow etc.

However, by asking this little question on a regular basis you can derive two major benefits: 1. You will get used to examining your life and your choices and 2. You will start realizing something very interesting about your life: Namely, you do not need to constantly ponder your mortality to live your life as if it would stop. Your only life is the most precious possession you have and it is your duty, your covenant with yourself, to make the best out of it.

Consider: You make the most important decisions of your life when you are too young to make them. You may spend the rest of your life pinned to the career your young self chose for you. You may be living now with someone that you chose from a very different perspective. Both your partner and you are very different from your younger selves who fell in love in your past. Whatever life you now have are based on decisions you made before, be it yesterday or 25 years ago. If any of your circumstances changes, it makes sense to check if the results of the little existential scale are still holding true. Often, if you really did not pay attention to your life, you’ll find all three spheres of your life have gone south. You are in a negative place, a negative relationship and a negative life situation.

Why spend any portion of your only life in situations, places, or with people that are not good for you?

Granted it is easier to realize that something is not good for you than actually leave it. But take a step back: how did you get to be in this situation, in this place or with this person? What were your considerations? What informed your decision? You may realize that you chose a career, or a spouse with less consideration than you accord to choosing an Internet provider. Perhaps your casual attitude to life changing decisions was based on the illusion that you can always go for another life? That given enough time every action can be undone. The question of course is do you have enough time to wait?

Most of us do not get trapped in the wrong life. We choose it and by doing nothing to change it we actually decide to stay in negativity. It is akin to being passive- aggressive with your own self.

I believe that your only life deserve to be taken as such – one journey, with one ending. Once you get off that is it. Your life is dispensable to your contemporaries, to say nothing of the universe in its unfathomable dimensions. You only really matter to your parents and if, fortunately for them, they die before you, no one else would care about you more than you care about yourself. The loyal, ever present you, is all that separates you from hurtling into oblivion. Your duty to yourself is your most solemn responsibility: the only duty that cannot be shared with anyone else.

Of course, you cannot be forced to care about yourself. And often, the way you mishandle and abuse yourself would not be known to anyone but you. Now that should have been enough. After all only you can realize the truth about your current condition and you are the only one that can decide to change it. Unfortunately, we are experts in lying to ourselves. So good, that we can convince ourselves that what we know about our condition is at the same token totally untrue. We do it all the time: Our casual treatment of our own life is the best testament to that.

I want to clarify something important: There is nothing wrong with lying to yourself. You are allowed to tell yourself whatever you want and change your mind as often as you want. Lying to yourself is mostly in the category of “white lies”: saying something untrue in order to comfort. In the complexity of the inner world truth is not always a virtue. But in believing your own white lies you may lose sight of what is positive or negative for you. You may convince yourself that this place, this person, this situation, is not so bad or that it is merely neutral. You may convince yourself that you have plenty of time to repeat your mistakes, stay indefinitely in conditions that are negative for you, sacrifice your happiness for others; in short, abdicate your responsibility for your own life.

This is, as I see it, the dilemma with the immortality white lie: Lying to yourself that you are immortal is absolutely a good thing. It makes the inevitable death less frightening. But behaving as if you are immortal can get you stuck in a painful and depleting situation, a negative environment or an abusive partner for much longer than you should have allowed and agreed to.

So in addition to the little existential scale above, you can ask yourself the following hypothetical question: suppose this was my only life would I have___________________? (You fill in the blanks)

You see where this leads: you may have made some irreversible mistakes. Statements like “I could have”, ”I should have”, are often deluged by a wave of self- recrimination. This way of thinking is unnecessary: in my work, I try to help people not to break down under the scary weight of irreversible mistakes. We all make them. But some of us are more able to find a way around them; while others waste their time (their only life), either paralyzed or desperately trying to undo what cannot be undone.

Irreversible mistakes cannot be undone. The more you miscalculated your life, the harder it is to ponder existential questions. It may be so agonizing as to prevent you from any attempt to evaluate your current situation. Indeed, perpetual state of denial is a sensible, if very flawed, strategy, if you are helpless against the results of your own decisions. But your life is not merely the sum of your mistakes and bad decisions. Many of us become so focused on the mistake and its results; you may spend a lifetime “trying to fix my mistakes in order to be happy”. That futile activity perpetuates the mistake, and fixates your gaze in the wrong direction: Correcting your irreparable missteps is not a prerequisite to contentment. In your inner world cause and effect are meaningless and that is what counts.

My philosophy of life is based on one basic principle: You are not immortal and this is your only life. Furthermore, if this pretty irrefutable fact informs your life, other useful concepts would emerge: Your importance is relative: the larger the lens, in terms of distance and time, the less significant you become. The only place you reign supreme is your inner world. This world is born and dies with you and this is the place where your importance is absolute. It makes little sense to ignore your inner world or to introduce into it the rules and regulations that you use in your everyday interactions with the “outside world”. You are in charge of your inner world and you should be setting the rules there. The most critical responsibilities to yourself cannot be shared with anyone else, no matter how close and well intentioned. Investing your time in repairing the irreparable, undoing what cannot be undone, and tolerating abuse in any way shape or form, is a betrayal of your only life.

You may say, I realize that I spend a large portion of my life with people, in places and situations that have negative effect on my life and me. How can I suddenly change it? I am too stuck.

In future blogs I will offer simple and doable strategies to setting the rules and regulations for your inner world, taking the lead on responsibilities to yourself that cannot be shared, and moving away from negativity. You may be surprised at how easy it is to engage in those activities. But the first step is measuring your present situation by an existential scale, and thinking you are immortal but acting and behaving as if this is your only life. Because it is!

You and Your Soul Mate

Summer is upon us and with it the images of sprawling, manicured lawns and the lush greenery of the countryside. I am reminded of an old question: How do the British manage to have such amazing lawns? The answer is: they do everything needed to start a lawn, they meticulously take care of it, then they wait 400 years and Voila!

Meeting a soul mate is based on the same principle; you meet someone, you cement your bond, you consistently cultivate your relationship through thick and thin, and after some years, voila! You are soul mates.

Now seriously, I think it is hopelessly romantic (which is not bad) and often bitterly disappointing (which it is), to assume that a complete stranger, whom you meet for the first time, can perchance be a soul mate to you. In other words, the chances are slim to none that you can meet your soul mate. Your partner and you can become soul mates but it takes some planning and dedication.

We tend to trust the complex emotions we feel toward our “chosen one” as a sign that this is the right person. Yet, these emotions are not very reliable when identifying a potential soul mate; no love, however intense, can be trusted to continue growing – or even remain strong – without consistent investment. Neglected relationships are doomed to fail – just look around you! We often behave as if our own bond is a self-generating, everlasting mutual fondness. Sadly the reality is quite the opposite: most ignored and unattended relationship, fizzle from volcanic fire to a flimsy candle in the wind, feebly flickering in and out.

You may ask yourself: what is so great about having, and being, a soul mate? The answer is simple; falling in love is the spark that starts a relationship. When that sparks dims, your couple dynamics need to switch from temporary to (hopefully) permanent. The permanent bond is based on a different foundation. After a certain time together, whatever bonded you at the beginning of the relationship does not hold strong any longer. At that point, the risk is that your connection as a couple would devolve into a routine, vague, infrequent feelings of kinship, and the fear of change.

Let me explain: At the beginning of a relationship we all have many fantasies about the future and very few memories together. With time, the weight of our memories outweighs the levity of future fantasies. If you were not attentive to your relationship, the memories can be so painful and distancing, as to burden down any possibility of ever soaring again.

Say you look at your partner, some time after you cemented your relationship, and realize with the first ping of horror that you may have made a fatal mistake: This person is not your soul mate!

I suggest you can relax. Of course he or she is not your soul mate, or “the only one”, or “love of your life” or even your best friend. It is impossible!

You are not a marathoner (yet!) after the first mile of the run. And you cannot even aspire to run a marathon just because you decided to: You need to put in some lengthy and hard slog. Similarly, relationships are among the few aspects of life necessitating consistent work over time to reach and sustain a desirable result. Exercise does come to mind as a metaphor since no mater what level of fitness you reach, you can never rest on your laurels and stop working out. You will lose in a short time what you had built over years.

You may say, “I have settled into second rate, passionless and loveless relationship and I have no problem with it”. That is obviously your choice. And yet, the emotional and physical price of dealing with pent-up aggression and crushing loneliness, when trapped in neglected relationship, is much higher than the investment entailed in creating true soul mates relationship.

So by now we know that you do not meet a soul mate – you create one!

But what exactly is it? In a few words soul mates relationship can be defined as a perpetual and growing love. Let me define what I mean by love. After all there are as many types of love as there are days in one’s life. We love many things: chocolate, our children, a vacation on a beach, the sound of favorite music, a drive in a country road. What we love is constantly changing: The charming resort is not as magical on second visit; Yesteryear’s passionate love is todays forgotten shadow. We may discover that except for our addictions and our children, our ability to love has no permanency over time.

Soul mate is a very special case of love. At its best it is almost akin to the love we feel to our children. Almost, since the love we have for our children, is unconditional and the love for a soul mate is not. It is conditional on the unbroken avowal of the special, unique status that binds both lovers. Paying attention to your relationship can transform them from a bond to a covenant.

You deserve it.

Let’s examine the two most common scenarios: one for those who are searching for a long-term partner but have not found one yet. And the other, for those who are in long-term relationship and would like to improve them to become the covenant they should be.

Our western contemporary culture leaves the search for a mate and the ultimate choice to bond, to the future couple. That freedom to choose a partner is no doubt a great improvement over the arranged marriage practice of past centuries, but it has created new problems. Those who have difficulty deciding can spend years being unsure, and those who tend to be impulsive, might hastily commit to the wrong person. But one basic issue is so universal as to influence every consideration: the preoccupation with finding the perfect person. Even if you logically know that a perfect match is an unfortunate myth, you still secretly hope to find one. If you believe, as I do, that most romantic partnership can be worked into a covenant, then your decision making is likely to be different from the prevailing “gut feeling” considerations that informs current choice of mate in our culture. Instead you might look for someone who would be committed to growing the relationship. Someone, with whom you can partner to avert the fizzling of your bond once the original emotions, burdened by reality, are incapable of carrying you through.

But what do you do if you are already in the “relationship fizzle” phase? You entered your lifelong partnership based on intense and shared fantasy. You promised yourselves that you would “live happily ever after”. Now you trace a sense of bitterness, connection fatigue, and growing estrangement. What can you do?

How you fix it is dependent upon the two of you. You may have crossed already the point of no return, and your relationship is irreversibly broken. The weight of bad memories – the resentment – returns you to the point where you met: two strangers. Only now the past is so heavy as to prevent any renewed closeness and fantasies are not about being together but about breaking up. You must do something. Everything can be improved given one condition: your partner must be willing to do something as well. Otherwise, there is no reason to stay together and spend the precious rest of your life with someone who increasingly dislikes you and vice versa. I do not wish to be flippant about the premise of breaking up. I know how hard it is. But it is the difficulty inherent in breaking up that paralyzes a couple from acting upon it. So the only honest conclusion is: either improve your relationship or consider separation. Staying passively in unattended relationship is often a recipe for growing unhappiness. Whatever the future beckons, is only an illusion. The past may be a repository of growing disappointments. The present is the only time to decide and act on your needs.

If it is time for action I always recommend couple’s therapy. But even more essential is the “couple’s therapy” with yourself. Unless you repair the relationship with yourself, there would always be a voice, telling you from the depth of self loathing, that you do not deserve any better. Disrespect for your own life, provides but a shaky foundation for meaningful relationship with others.

Don’t give up on yourself. Don’t give up on your chance to be in positive and growing relationship.

Remember: you do not meet your soul mate. You create it.

Sleep Insufficiency and the Blue Light

Sleep is a mysterious activity that most don’t consider an activity at all. It is essential to life – several days of total sleep deprivation can result in death – but most of us do not encounter people who died from sleep deprivation. We do encounter every day, perhaps while looking at the mirror, people who are chronically sleep deprived. Our cavalier attitude to sleep, as if optional, is truly inexplicable, if we consider its centrality to our quality of life.

Most of us have become so “adjusted” to chronic sleep deprivation, it almost seems “normal”.

You may be aware that you are groggy, but the serious disruption to your memory, concentration and attention – the consequences of chronic sleep deprivation- might be imperceptible to you. Chronic sleep insufficiency also induces stress biomarkers, interferes with weight and hormonal regulation, and results in irritability, anxiety and depression. Those are all heavy-duty issues. In fact, we are so sensitive to lack of sleep that even a reduction of one and a half hour, for only one night, has been demonstrated to decrease our cognitive effectiveness by 30 percent.

You may treat quality of life essentials, i.e., exercise and good nutrition, as optional but we all must sleep. No one ever succeeded a voluntary sleep deprivation. It is impossible. But why can we not sleep more efficiently? Why do we have to sleep so many hours? We have totally revolutionized the waking hours, inventing one timesaver after the other, thereby making two thirds of our life increasingly efficient. Why can the other third not be revolutionized? Why can we not enjoy condensed sleep of 2 instead of 7 hours a day?

We still know little about the subjective experience of sleep. We can observe the dreaming person, but much like the experience of death, no one has ever been able to give a first hand account.

Curtailing sleep makes the same sense as curtailing the intake of water. Sleep cannot be rationed and needs to be played out in a complex repetitive and mysterious ritual: The sleep cycle, the REM vs. Non REM sleep, deep sleep and light one, dreams and amnesia. Much like the steepest depth of the oceans and the far reaches of galaxies, we have but recently become slightly acquainted with the mystery of sleep. What do we know for sure? We know that sleep is essential to our life. We know that on the average adults need to sleep at least 7 hours per day. We know that sleep is tightly regulated by our circadian rhythm. We are also familiar with the notion of Sleep Architecture – the rhythmic five phases of sleep that we usually pass through: stages 1, 2, 3, 4, and REM (rapid eye movement) sleep. Whether we sleep too little by choice or due to a sleep disorder, most of us make the same mistakes when retiring to sleep. The essentials of sleep hygiene are widely known and often reviewed. For a refresher, here are two links to sites that I find to be clear and helpful: The University of Maryland Sleep Center, and the Cleveland Clinic Sleep Disorder Center

But the environment of our sleep, even if carefully and attentively controlled, is secondary to the effects of our circadian rhythm on the quality of sleep. The circadian rhythm in turn, is dependent almost exclusively on the degree of light (or darkness) that gets into our eyes. And it is no wonder: One of the most reliably recurring phenomena on planet earth is the gradual daily alteration from darkness the brightness as the nights alternate eternally with days. Our biological clock (and that of many animals and plants) has evolved to correspond to changes of light in 24 hours cycles. The hormone melatonin, secreted from the pineal gland in the brain in response to the diminishing light of dusk, is essential for our ability to sleep. As the light grows dimmer the melatonin level increases and it signals to the brain that it is time to sleep. The alternating states of sleep and wakefulness are fundamental to the rhythm of all our biological activities: The efficient and tightly choreographed dance of life.

This harmonious adaptation to life on earth has been seriously interrupted by the advent of modern technology. Almost every aspect of technological innovation is aimed at overcoming the traditional relationship between our biology and the environment. While modern technology has made our lives easier in many ways, it has been advancing at a pace that exceeds our evolutionary adaptation. This growing discrepancy between our natural rhythms and the expansion of our abilities through modern technology, presents a survival challenge to all of us. Much like the struggle to preserve our planets natural environmental rhythm, we must pay attention to our personal one. In a way, our ancient biological clock is groaning under the strain of keeping up with technological advancement.

Nowhere is it more obvious and immediate as with the regulation of sleep. Until the introduction of artificial lighting, the sun was the major source of light, and humans spent their evenings in relative darkness. Now, as soon as day light dims, we are deluged by artificial light. Daylight is artificially extended to no end and even when we retire to bed we continue to be surrounded by numerous light emitting fixtures: No wonder then, our pineal gland is utterly confused. When should the melatonin surge occur? Where is the once dependable transition from day to dusk to night? We all understand that our environment is sensitive to our technology and we need to be “more green”, but when it comes to sleep we need to be “less blue”. Less blue? I mean this literally. We must cue our pineal gland to secrete melatonin on time, without the darkness it has come to depend on. Two important aspects are the ingestion of melatonin capsules and elimination of blue light at night. The melatonin boost is simple. All research now points to the fact that very low dose of melatonin (the body need as little as 0.2mg to signal it is night) taken at around 9pm can have profound effect on the quality of our sleep. Some people may need more – but not much more than 0.2 mg – the drug stores are still selling 3 and 6mg capsules which is actually counterproductive as it floods the brain with a large surge of melatonin. The putative rewards of daily melatonin intake are numerous and a great body of research already exists and widely accessible on the WEB. For me it is one of the three supplements I take daily (the other ones being trans – Resveratrol and Vitamin D3). I suggest you read about it and consider taking it.

Blue light presents a different problem. Blue wavelengths—which are beneficial during daylight hours because they boost attention, reaction times, and mood—seem to be the most disruptive at night. While light of any kind can suppress the secretion of melatonin, blue light does so more powerfully.The environmental push for more efficient light emitting fixtures is replacing the energy wasteful incandescent light bulbs with the very efficient fluorescent and LED bulbs. But they also tend to produce more blue light. This is a curious point (albeit increasingly common) where the personal benefit is at odds with the planetary one. Green Vs. Blue! Obviously the way to solve it is not by sacrificing the environment but by modifying our personal one. On a large scale, coating fluorescent and LED bulbs with blue wave length filter, would be a universal solution whose time has not come yet but is sure to be requested the more we are aware of the real and serious problem to our health.

But until then what can we personally do to limit the effect of artificial light on our Melatonin production? One way, as mentioned above, is to take melatonin supplement to try and overcome the melatonin suppression and the absence of melatonin surge.

Eliminating blue light after dusk is not simple. The best way is to stop the light, as it is about to get into the eyes. We should remember that in order for melatonin to be secreted the light has to come through the eyes. Each wavelength visible to us excites a different group of neurons according to its relative intensity. (Indeed blind people have complex difficulty with their circadian rhythm and in a way live in a perpetual “jet lag” which has only recently been identified.)   Eyeglasses that block blue light (typically the lens have yellowish brown tint) are very helpful. In a way, they are to blue light what sunshades are to day light. It is a bit awkward, and most people would be reluctant to wear it outdoors – who knows, perhaps one day it would become fashionable? Wearing the shades at home works quite well and from my experience it is not as cumbersome as I had assumed. Another way, which has other advantages, is to eliminate screen lights from the bedroom. Computers, phones, Ipads and TV sets, emit blue light (to say nothing of how disruptive to sleep the content is). Software and apps that filter blue light from gadgets are increasingly available. Also filters that physically block the glare can be applied to your gadgets. Needless to say, part of good sleep hygiene is leaving the phones and other handhelds, computers and television outside the bedroom.

Of course not all people are casual about their sleep. You may suffer from insomnia and other sleep disorders and would have loved to sleep longer but can’t. What should you do if despite a good evaluation and correction of your sleep hygiene, elimination of medical conditions that can cause insomnia, and taking care of your anxiety and stress, you still cannot fall asleep or stay asleep for the entire night? This is when pharmacological sleep aids should be considered; there are certain conditions, at certain times in life, which merit sleep medications. Prescribing sleep medication entails many considerations, including the type of insomnia, the gender and age of the patient, possible interactions with other medications or diet, and underlying health issues. Considering prescribed sleeping pills, what kind and for how long, merits a separate write up. However, the most salient and irrefutable fact regarding sleeping medications is that they cannot circumvent the issues noted above more than vitamin supplements are a good substitute for eating fruits and vegetables. It is at best a paltry imitation of good sleep and cannot replace the attention to our biological rhythm and the centrality of melatonin and light to its equilibrium. Simply put, swallowing a sleeping pill cannot cheat the brain into considering it a “goodnight sleep”. The disruption caused by sleeping aids to the sleep architecture, invariably renders them a temporary solution, one that cannot be a replacement for “natural” sleep. It is my strong recommendation that you discuss with your physician the option of taking low dose melatonin and evaluate all aspects of your sleep hygiene.

I understand that most do not want to waste their life sleeping. Yet given that the quantity and quality of sleep is essential to your ability to function during the waking hours, and has enormous consequences to your health and wellbeing throughout life, you would not want to waste your daily restoration (literally!!) on second rate, poor quality and insufficient sleep.

 

Spring Rejuvenation: Stress “Clean-Up”

Chapter 1. Psychiatric medication

Recently I watched a National Geographic documentary: Stress – Portrait of a Killer.  In it, the brilliant Stanford neuroscientist, Robert Sapolsky, compares human stress to that of Primates and other animals.   Unsurprisingly, when humans and other animals experience stress, we all have similar increases of stress hormones in the blood. That is hardly a basis for a fascinating documentary. However, the catch is that we, humans, have the same level of stress hormones just by thinking about potential problems, as a zebra would when it flees for its life from a pride of lions.  Moreover, if the zebra (or any other animal in danger) survives the predators, the hormone levels return within 10 min to the pre-stress baseline.  Without “reflecting on what happened”, the Zebra continues grazing with the herd, unconcerned and calm. We are the only beings that are stressed by our imagination rather than a real physical danger. We tend to worry about the future, which invariably exists only in our imagination.  If you worry about your plane ride in the summer, how can you deal with it?

When the zebra identifies a danger, it runs for its life.  It can DO something about it.  We, on the other hands, are helpless against most of our worries. We can do nothing about them since they do not exist, at least not yet, not now.  Surely preparing for a predicted hurricane gives one a sense of mastery.  But how can you deal with the thought that you will never be happy again, or win the competition, or get the job, or the love, or the place, you hope for. How can you protect against a fear of flying, or failure, or of old age, or death?  We are aware of many potential problems, some real but most imaginary and totally out of our control.  Indeed, the ability to think in symbols, to imagine – exclusive to humans being – is our mixed blessing.  Among all living things, only humans have developed the ability to think about the past and imagine the future in the sophisticated form we call consciousness.  Our young cognitive apparatus  – approx. 100 thousand years old – is superimposed on an ancient emotional system (about 100 million years).  It seems as if our emotions are unable to distinguish between the concrete, reality-based present tense, and the imaginary, timeless inner mental world.  And so, our emotions react to some imaginary future danger, in the same way it does to a real, concrete and current threat to our life.

People who are constantly preoccupied with “what ifs”, and “should haves”, invariably live stressful life.  The Stress hormones (adrenalin and glucocorticoids), released in the body when we worry about something, cost a huge and increasingly devastating price to our health. These hormones are meant for use in times of danger.  They shut down many “unnecessary” systems and activate in full throttle those necessary to fight for survival.  The toll of fight and flight on the body is tremendous, and can last only a short period without inflicting damage.  In nature, whether you flee to safety or are killed is usually decided in a matter of minutes.  The mammal body was not made for extended period of mortal danger.  But when the danger exists in your mind, there is no obvious or expeditious resolution.  You can spend years worrying about issues that never get fully resolved  (are you good enough? will you develop cancer? is there life after death? etc). Additionally, you may be overbooked, overworked, overcommitted, rushing through multi tasks and racing against your own life.  Stress may become such a part of your life that you do not even notice how stressful your life is and how much unnecessary pressure you add to it.  But your body does not forget. We now understand the damage down to the sub cellular level.   I highly recommend watching the documentary mentioned above – It should serve as a wake up call for all of us.

Some stress is unavoidable.  If you care for a sick or disabled family member, struggle with a chronic illness, or deal with a loss of a loved one you would inevitably be stressed about it.    On many occasions, telling you to “take it easy” is not more than a cruel insensitive remark.  I never admonish anyone, myself included, for feeling stressed.  It is only frustrating, and adds another layer of stress – you become stressed about being stressed. But the effects of stress are so perilous, it behooves an honest discussion about the ways to reduce it.  During the next few months, I will periodically publish installments on how to reduce and limit the sources of stress in your life.  Today I will focus on the role of medications in stress reduction.  While I do not advocate medications as the first line of treatment of stress, I want to make clear my favorable approach to judicious, careful and targeted use of psychiatric medications in the treatment of chronic stress.

We have complex love/hate relationship with psychiatric medications. They are the most prescribed in the world and perhaps the most controversial.  Even those who suffer from chronic psychiatric conditions are made to feel guilty for taking them.   I agree that many people are prescribed medications unnecessarily, in psychiatry and otherwise.  But in my practice, I usually encounter the opposite:  people who could benefit tremendously from medications and are reluctant to take it.   Some fear their brain or personality would change, some see it as admission of weakness and defeat, as we are expected to “get out of it” on our own.  I will soon address those biases.  But first, what kind of psychiatric medications are helpful in chronic stress, what do they do, and who should consider them? In my opinion (and this is the community standard) two groups of psychiatric medications are well suited to the treatment of chronic stress:  The anti anxiety drugs (in particular benzodiazepines e.g., Valium, Ativan and Klonopin) and the SSRI’s (such as Zoloft, Paxil and Prozac).  While the former group is not recommended for long-term use due to its habit-forming properties, the SSRI’s can be safely taken for prolonged periods.

Let us consider each group separately although they do have some overlapping effects:

The anxiolytics:  In many ways, anxiety is the psychological equivalent of physical pain.  With its myriad symptoms, both physical (e.g., palpitation, dizziness, dry mouth, tremulousness etc.) and mental (difficulties in concentration, fear and dread sensations, being “spaced out”, etc) anxiety can be very debilitating and painful.  It is important to distinguish anxiety from stress:  Stress is the low-grade physical and emotional tension that many feel on a regular basis.  While many of the anxiety and stress symptoms are similar in their origin (a heightened activity of the sympathetic nervous system) stress is more subtle and diffused.  The symptoms of stress (such as changes in blood pressure, indigestion and fatigue) are insidious and cause a gradual “wear and tear” rather than the paralyzing picture of anxiety. Most of us get so used to living with stress as to make it almost unnoticeable.  Anxiety on the other hand, is usually acute, in response to something concrete, and tends to disrupt one’s normal course of life.

Anti anxiety medications are very effective, have a rapid onset and wash out of the body relatively quickly.  They are recommended as adjunct to treatment of psychiatric conditions most of which have anxiety as part of the symptom picture. But even at the absence of any psychiatric disorder, when anxiety appears in response to some life’s adversity, anti anxiety medications are effective and safe.  The decision to take anxiolytics for random anxiety is not medical but rather a philosophical one:  It is akin to treatment of random headaches.  Some people refuse to take medications against headache: while a questionable practice (recent scientific evidence demonstrates health benefit from treating headaches with analgesics) it is really up to them to decide.  Most headaches are benign, short lived and if one chooses to suffer rather than take a Tylenol, it is his/her own decision. Similarly, if a person chooses not to take an anxiolytic and is willing to tolerate the anxiety, there is nothing wrong with it. Perhaps the only difference between the treatment of headaches and anxiety is that medications against headaches are over the counter, while medications against anxiety require prescription.  It is a good thing: unscrupulous and unsupervised intake of anxiolytics can quickly get out of control and may lead to addiction.  Yet, the administration of anxiolytics under a supervision of a psychiatrist, is safe, and can help a person get through a difficult period in life in an easier, more manageable way.

In summary, anxiolytics belong to the group of psychiatric medication that need not be restricted to psychiatric disorders.  They have a role – much like analgesics – in helping reduce pain and suffering, provided they are monitored and supervised by a psychiatrist or a knowledgeable family practitioner.  Once an absence of any underlying medical condition (e.g., thyroid hormone dysfunction) is established, there is no downside to using them.  In fact, when one considers the physical and mental deleterious effects of anxiety and the great personal suffering, it makes sense to use them more liberally.

What about SSRI’s?

The use of anxiolytics should not be that controversial since they provide a quick relief from a painful condition.  SSRI’s, on the other hand present a much more complicated decision when prescribed at the absence of a diagnosable psychiatric disorder. While I believe they have a clear beneficial role, I appreciate the controversy and would concede that those opposed to it (especially to the wide unsupervised use) have a valid point.

First, why do I support (and use) SSRI’s for people without a defined psychiatric disorder?  For one simple reason:  They are a great aid to psychotherapy.  Historically, SSRI’s were developed as antidepressants.  With time, their anti-obsession and anti-anxiety properties were discovered and put to good use in those who suffer from OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) and panic disorder.  They were also found useful in PTSD, eating disorders and social anxiety among others.  But they have another, related attribute that I find extremely compelling in my everyday practice:  They make it possible for you to “Take a vacation from yourself”.

What does “vacation from yourself” mean?  Can you truly take a vacation from your own self?

Obviously not!  Most psychiatric treatment is based on the fact, that you are forever “stuck” with yourself.  But you can take a metaphoric vacation from one aspect of your existence, namely, the intrusive chatter in your brain.  We all experience intrusive chatter: think about a time in your life when you were preoccupied by thoughts you did not want to have.  Remember the night before the big exam?  You may have said to yourself, “I’d better get a good night sleep and not think about it”.  And yet, no matter how hard you try to distract yourself from thinking about the exam, you still find yourself at 3am, exhausted, unable to sleep, and totally consumed by anxious thoughts.  Chronic stress sufferers have an “intrusive chatter” most of the time even without a specific trigger.  The intrusive content might be self-deprecating, self-defeating, self-loathing or merely pessimistic, in short all types of negative and unhelpful thoughts.  While the underlying mechanism is probably the same for constant chatter and obsessional thinking of OCD (that is why SSRI’s are helpful in both) there are substantial differences:  OCD thoughts are very fixed, concrete and are usually perceived as irrational by the sufferer.  In “constant chatter” the thoughts are poorly formed, fleeting and without any real sense of irrationality.  The thoughts might be “I cannot do it” or “I need to lose weight” or something similar. While not illogical, they are unhelpful, distracting and often very discouraging.  Constant chatter does not amount to the strong interference and prominence of intrusive thoughts as in OCD.  Rather, constant chatter is like white noise:  it is always in the background and increases in inverse proportion to the level of distraction around you:  The quieter your environment the more intrusive it becomes.  And so constant chatter is at its peak when you are trying to rest, sleep, read, or concentrate on any type of mental activity.

One of the activities most disrupted by constant chatter is psychotherapy.  By design, most of the psychotherapeutic “work” is done internally. As you concentrate on issues you would like to change while trying to focus on your inner world, the constant chatter intensifies and disrupts your connection with yourself.  The annoying, repetitive and negative thoughts that flutter in your mind prevent you from attending to your feelings, since you cannot affect any distance from yourself.   That is when SSRI’s come in handy:  They are invariably able to stop the constant inner chatter.  Once effective (and it can take months before it takes effect) you find yourself, perhaps for the first time in your life, being able to sit and think about nothing in particular and better yet, turn off at will the annoying intrusive thoughts that reverberate unwanted in your mind. Taking a vacation from yourself does not mean (as many people believe) taking a vacation from your feelings.  Many consider SSRI’s a “feel good” medication, believing it is meant to numb emotional response to everyday life.  Nothing can be further from the truth:  SSRI’s enables those who suffer from constant chatter, to choose whether they want to think about something or not.  I like to describe the mechanism the SSRI’s, in a nonscientific terms, as a movable padding – positioned between one’s thoughts and feelings.  Moved into position, it creates some buffer between the anxious thoughts and the anxious emotions.  The chronically stressed person can, at long last, block a mental concern from igniting a vicious cycle of a cognitive/emotional storm. Conversely, the same mechanism prevents an anxious pang from exploding into a cascade of concerns.

In summary, SSRI’s and anxiolytics should definitely be considered as an effective way to prevent our imagination from igniting an unnecessary stress reaction. There are other proven techniques to decrease and control stress in our life. I will cover them over the next few months.  Ideally, our stress reaction should return to the role nature intended; to sharpens our mind and reflexes in the presence of a real present danger or concern.  By “abusing” that rapid intervention system for petty or imaginary concerns, we deplete our emotional resources and reserves. We must learn how to stop our futile, self-destructive struggle with our imaginary demons.

I cannot think of a better Spring cleaning plan.

Is my valentine an avatar?

Remember Bo Didley’s song “Who Do You Love”? I think it is a good question to ask yourself this Valentine’s day. Seriously, whom exactly do you love? And what do you mean by love

I just finished reading a book  (“Mind, Modernity and Madness”, by Liah Greenfeld). The book’s main focus is on culture as a causal element in mental illness.   Accordingly, it starts the discussion by describing the progress of early humans from developing the capacity for language, to articulating signs and finally to articulating symbols – i.e., something that stands for or represents something else.  It is always fascinating to consider the context of psychological evolution.  We can think of anything we want and make up any story in our mind: be it in the distant past or the immediate future, in places we have never seen and with people we would never meet.  Being liberated from the concrete and acquiring the freedom of the abstract, offers boundless possibilities.

Imagination, fantasy life, daydreaming and the ability to think in symbols offers a rich matrix for creating an “as if reality” inside our mental world.  Which brings me to the avatar:  Obviously, our perception of reality is very subjective.  The glass is half full or half empty, the picture is dark or bright: our mood colors our thoughts and our thoughts in turn affect our mood.  No matter how factually based, eventually almost everything in our life becomes relative and dependent on how we choose to see it.

Nowhere is it more poignant than in our choice of a romantic partner.  Ask yourself: How do you relate to your partner when he or she is not with you physically? Or better yet whom do you relate to? Who do you miss?  When your partner is with you, his or her physical existence supersedes your fantasy about them in your inner world, but when you are apart – whether at work, traveling, going to classes etc – you interact with them in your mind.  Obviously, you cannot bring the actual person into your inner world, so you create a representation of your romantic partner in your mind. I call this representation, the avatar.

Often the avatar is very close to the real person it represents in your mind.  But at times, they have almost nothing in common. You can have a host of interactions with the avatar that are very different from the ones you have with the real person. In fact, you may have a whole emotional experience with the imaginary figure: you can have a fight with the avatar, seduce the avatar, lecture the avatar, love the avatar or scold it; but it is the avatar, not the real person, and you might be surprised to see how far you have gone with your mind’s creation.   It is common to have leftover feelings from an imaginary, inner altercation, much like the odd feeling that lingers after a difficult dream.  You know it is your imagination, but your emotional device continues to create “Phantom feelings”.

Valentine’s day is a good occasion to ask yourself:  Whom do you love? Is it your romantic partner’s avatar? How close is the avatar to the real person? Does the avatar possess some idealized traits the real person doesn’t’?  Does “spending time” with the avatar seem better and more pleasurable?

You may discover that you indeed have a relationship with two entities: your partner and his or her avatar.  Even if merely a figment of your imagination, the avatar influences your relationship with your real partner.  Evolutionary speaking, our emotions are so ancient compared to our cognitive abilities, that we are often unable to separate our imagination from reality. (Try this: Think of a something you like to eat when you are hungry and your mouth would literally start watering.  The food is not around, you do not see it, smell it taste it. You just imagined it.  Still your body reacts to the fantasy as if it was real).

After some time together, you may find that the boundaries between the real person and the avatar become blurred.  If it is more pleasurable to be with the imaginary partner than with the real person, you will start overlooking certain aspects of your relationship, idealize or devalue others, and increasingly “live” with the avatar at the exclusion of the real living breathing partner.

Fantasy is wonderful as a sweetener of life.  Our childhood fantasies – those immensely pleasurable, sweet daydreams – are gone, tossed away forever by the rush of life. They are gradually replaced by “realistic” fantasies.  These grown up fantasies can still bring us pleasure and sweeten our life. But they often create an alternative reality. This is precarious since we start to compare our lives to our fantasy about them.  And since no reality is as good as its corresponding fantasy, they can interfere with our ability to enjoy our real life.

The question “who do you love?”  is indeed quite pertinent to your relationship.  Valentine’s day, the ultimate romantic vortex, is a good time to evaluate it.  Do you love the real, flesh and blood person or his/her idealized imaginary version?  If the avatar pops up, its time to turn back to your original love, the person with whom you chose to spend at least part of the journey, if not all of it, together. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Kafka method: addressing the unexplainable between us

Much of my free time I spend with my geniuses.  Quiet and ready they weigh down my bookshelves.  Borges, Nietzsche, de Saint Exupery, scores of geniuses, all are there, all are mine. Above them all, always towering in my supplicant mind stands delicate and tall my ultimate advisor: Franz Kafka.  In a letter to Oskar Pollak, on November 8, 1903, he wrote:

“We are as forlorn as children lost in the woods. When you stand in front of me and look at me, what do you know of the griefs that are in me and what do I know of yours. And if I were to cast myself down before you and weep and tell you, what more would you know about me than you know about Hell when someone tells you it is hot and dreadful? For that reason alone we human beings ought to stand before one another as reverently, as reflectively, as lovingly, as we would before the entrance to Hell”.

 

I cannot think of a more disheartening statement for a psychiatrist.  I read his words when I forged my first hesitant steps into this formidable field.  I literally agonized over the thought: what if Kafka is right? What if I set myself for a futile chase of the eternally inaccessible?  As a physician, I am totally prepared to stand before the other reverently and lovingly.  I understand the hellish nature of emotional pain.  But will you never be able to explain to me your inner world?

Years into my practice, I have understood the lesson of my great genius teacher: we are inherently incapable of expressing to the other what takes place in our inner world. As a psychiatrist, I cannot expect you, my patient, to explain to me your inner world, much like you cannot describe what is going on in your spleen or thyroid.  You can explain to me your symptoms, but as Kafka said, all I know is that hell is hot and scary.   That is not enough to be profoundly effective.  In order to understand your inner world I have to visit there.  I have to imagine your life and experiences as they appear to you.  In other words, instead of “putting myself in your shoes,” I have to become the other even if for a split second – and suddenly everything is so clear.

It took me a long time to learn how to lose my judgment at each psychiatric encounter. Like Yoga or any other spiritual discipline, it is a long learning curve and one never masters the technique to full perfection.  I certainly am often reminded of my limitations. And, as opposed to Yoga, no “muscle memory” is permitted.  We may be predictable in the outside world, among our fellow humans, but inside our most intimate sphere, our experience is unlike others’.  And so, despite the years of experience, I often need to exert myself intellectually and spiritually with every person as if they were my first.  But once the moment of clarity occurs, when the glow of understanding illuminates another’s inner world, it is forever revealed in all its intricacies.

I have been thinking about communication this week as I was scheduled to give one of my Men(ual) seminars.  I created the workshop some years ago, responding to my work with couples.  Typically, a focus of a couple’s work  is improvement of   communication  between the two.  And yet, at times I realized that even with “simultaneous translation” the man and woman sitting with me are unable to understand each other.  They want to listen to each other.  They are attentive to each other.  They love each other, and want their relationship to work. But they do not “get” what the other is trying to explain.

This is the juncture where I reach for “my Kafka”.  Is there a way for someone to express their deep emotional needs,  even when their words betray them?

I have developed my Kafka method to find alternatives to dialogue, alternatives to verbal communication, if you may.

Try this:

Together with your partner,  identify an issue that is very important to  you even if it seems insignificant to your partner.  We all have those “hang-ups” – pet peeves that can drive us mad even if we ourselves can recognize that “it is not a big deal”.

True, it is not a big deal in the outside world, but it is a big deal in our intimate, deeply veiled, inner world.  Why? There are as many possibilities as there are people and hang-ups.  And, when working on your relationship with your partner, you need to focus on the dynamic and understanding between the two of you.   Disagreement on “small things” is in fact one of the most destructive and erosive force in marriage.  People can torture themselves and their partners over the most inane issues.   And often it takes the form of a “ritualistic dance” where the couple acts like well-rehearsed actors in a play.  I assume you must have experienced it.  I certainly have.

Now think of Kafka’s words. It is important to be reminded that sometimes we cannot explain the why in our heart.   It is just there.  And, while difficult to explain, it is important to you nonetheless. And yes, you can ask your partner (especially your partner) to accept that importance without you having to explain.  (And perhaps if both of you stop bickering about it you would be able to become more flexible yourself.)

Some behaviors, or feelings, or needs, might be impossible to explain.  But they are there, and very powerful. My Kafka method can help us accept the fact that we may never get an answer why. Once we overcome this hurdle, suddenly the road to a loving partnership becomes clearer. Simple? Perhaps.  But it is not too simple to be effective.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Authenticity: When lying to yourself costs too much.

Truth is not necessarily a virtue when it comes to your relationship with yourself.  Universal concepts such as Truth, Morals, Ethics, Rules etc, are really meant for your relationship with the others.  It is very hard to apply them to your inner world.   Are you allowed to lie to yourself? Can you keep a secret from yourself? Can you punish yourself for punishing yourself?

Think about it:  most rules and regulations – whether written or unwritten, culturally sanctioned, or ordained from heaven – take on a very different meaning when applied to your inner world.  In your relationship with your own self, most do not make sense at all.

In my work as a psychiatrist, I help others examine and create their inner rules.  Often the biggest hurdle is convincing my listener that he or she is entitled to do so.  We are so paralyzed by our adherence to the social rules, that we dare not abandon them at the gates to our inner world.  And by dragging them inside, we violate one of the only sanctuaries we can depend upon.

Many of us spend a great deal of energy disagreeing with our own thoughts and feelings. When we say:  “I should not be thinking or feeling this way”, we assume that we can  control our emotions or thoughts.  Yet, at most, we can control the active/external expression of our thoughts and feelings (and even that can be very taxing and often impossible).

We cannot control our thoughts and feelings.  We have no easily available mechanism to do so.  Our brain is so busy with the immeasurable amount of tasks it constantly performs  – the vast majority we are not conscious of – that preventing it from thinking or feeling something, is futile.  The most we can do is ignore the thought or the feeling and let it slip away.  The unfortunate catch is that exactly the thoughts and feelings we do not want to have are the ones that stick longer in our awareness.  And as each one of us knows, the harder we want to get rid of them the more stubborn and sticky they become.

And so, working to prevent unwanted thoughts, or shove them away, is not practical. The trick is not to assign value to one’s thoughts or  feelings.  If we do not exercise an appraisal of a thought, it cannot have a “wanted” or “unwanted” quality.  This brings us back to the issue of inner rules.

Our thoughts and feelings have no inherent moral or legal value.  So long as we keep them to ourselves, they do not exist in the outside world, and have no impact. Thoughts and feelings that make their way to the outside world, acquire the power to affect the others.  This power is checked by our social rules lest we devolve into chaos.  But the majority that floats through our mind, some lazily, some frantically, and some almost imperceptibly, those thoughts exist only for us.

Obviously some guiding principles exist for our inner world. Otherwise, it could also devolve into chaos.  But they are not the same principles as the social ones. (Nor do they have to be, as you have already realized.)  One of the most important principles for our inner world is authenticity.  By “authenticity”, I do not mean a factual truth.  “Facts” are also meaningless in the inner world.  Authenticity is the ability to know when you are lying to yourself and to be able to acknowledge it.  You are welcome to lie to yourself as much as you want to, so long as you are able to be authentic about it.  Most of us need to learn how to do it.  We are so frightened of our thoughts and feelings (and even worse; the interaction between them) that we spend time lying to ourselves about it with the hope that we would “buy the lie”  and put it to rest.  But we cannot fully lie to ourselves since we also know the truth.  And, the bigger the lie,  the more emotionally costly its maintenance becomes.

Self lies, or in psychological parlance, denial, often help us cope with unpleasant reality.  And since lies, in the inner world, have no qualitative value, i.e., are not “bad” or “good” – their service should be recognized for what it is.  They become a problem when we try to convince ourselves that they are not lies.  The truth of course, interferes with our ability to believe in the lie. That is where authenticity comes in handy.

I will give an example: One of the most commonly encountered inner lies is that of a spouse trapped in unhappy and distant relationship.  I am not talking about abusive relationship.  In abusive relationship the abuser “casts a spell” on the abused and is actively promoting the lies.  I am talking about the familiar slow grind of parallel lives, growing emotional distance, and low level, chronic mutual resentment.  Sadly, this common condition can start quite early in relationship, peek after a decade together and continue unabated until the end of the life together.  Eventually, and often later in the game, the spouse that suffers the most from the relationship ‘s poor quality, simply gives up trying.  And that is a good thing: the one who gives up, does not need any longer to maintain the lie.  Hence, the energy required to maintain the self -lie is freed up for other, hopefully healthier, pursuits.

If we are scared of the truth, we are unlikely to abandon the lie.  Hence, we may continue on an increasingly depleting and depressing trajectory.  Learning to observe the lie without having to abandon it, makes it much more possible to plunge into a trajectory of change.

To summarize:

1. The rules and morals that we apply in our dealing with the others have no real meaning in our relationship with our own self.

2.  In our inner world we cannot truly lie to ourselves since deeper inside we also know the truth.

3. Some self -lies are harder to maintain than others.  Some (for example denying the inevitability of our death) are becoming harder to maintain with time.  But the more poignant and urgent the truth, the higher levels of energy is needed to stifle it with an inner lie.

4. Our self- lies, much like our fantasies, often serve a purpose in making our life more tolerable, or enabling us to distract ourselves from a painful reality.

5. Authenticity in our inner world, is not giving up the lie or adhering fanatically to what we know is the truth.  Rather, authenticity is the ability to acknowledge the fact that we are not truthful to ourselves about something.

For myself, I have always believed in the adage “the unexamined life is not worth living”.  Obviously, it is not in my purview to decide the worth of other people’s life. So I offer you a milder version: The authentic inner world makes life easier and lighter.   And that is a positive gain in and off itself, isn’t it?