“Thinking about our work: The False Self”: Published in Group Journal Vol. 38, No. 3 (Fall 2014)

Comments on Walter Stone “Thinking About Our Work: The false self”

by Yoon Im Kane

How do we help our patients leave the safety of loneliness for the hope of connection? Walter Stone suggests an answer in this issue’s Thinking About Our Work.  Quoting K. Newman, Stone writes, “the false self provides the fiction of a good relationship and controls the recognition of the toxic core relationships...serv[ing] the need to keep the true self in a state of repression." The false self sacrifices real connection to avoid the pain of empathic failure.

According to Donald Winnicott, individuals with a false self cannot experience "going on being," an uninterrupted flow of the authentic self. He postulates that a caretaker unable to gratify infantile omnipotence creates the false self. Infants under such care remove themselves from their own experience to meet the needs of the other. They never learn to manage their own feelings, an essential step toward forming intimate relationships.

Stone’s description of the false self poses the question: How do therapists—transferential caretakers—respond to our patients’ infantile omnipotence? To continue "going on being," individuals must experience the full range of feelings and still feel accepted. More often than not, patients who struggle with a "false self" will enter treatment seeking to fix what they believe is wrong with them (or other people in their lives). Session after session, these patients hide behind a veneer of wanting to be helped and wanting to be helpful to others. Their true desires are deeply buried in a reservoir of unmet needs. They seek acceptance and approval, yet their false selves mask fear and an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. Left to their own devices, they are adept at perpetuating the game of peek-a-boo to distance themselves from emotional discomfort.

Individuals with overdeveloped false selves are difficult patients, because therapists are prone to delusions of infallibility. As Stone writes,  "we all have characteristics of the false self." We therapists are in a bind, because we must empathize with our patients’ vulnerability, but also put our wishes to help them aside.  This means that we must simultaneously feel and manage our relationships. In traditional professions, emotional involvement and management are distinct. Therapists, on the other hand, must lead receptively. It is different from what we think of as leadership traditionally. We must access our authentic selves to tolerate and soothe the unmanaged rage of others. We must abandon our fictional stories and be present with our patients, lest we try to “help” them.

As Stone writes, in group therapy, patients with overdeveloped false selves “see expressions of anger that do not lead to disaster."This may enable the individual to test out, however cautiously, being angry when he is not responded to." Group interrupts a self-gratifying style of relating by repairing old relational injuries. Egos become resilient enough to withstand intimacy. By empathizing with patients’ need for caution, group leaders may guide them to self-regulate and feel a full range of feelings. With more emotional insulation, individuals with false selves can shift from survival/reactive mode to a thriving/responsive mode.

Group therapy can replace past trauma with a current good-enough mother. The patience, persistence, and perspective of a functioning group teach patients to negotiate unmet needs. Seeing and being seen, the group member comes to replace his fictional story with authentic expression of self. 

Is Persistence the Key to Success?

 “Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground” -Theodore Roosevelt

After my usual four mile run at Central Park, I am sweaty and impatient waiting for the elevator. The elevator opens, I walk in and join an elderly gentleman who looks like he has parkinson’s and his nurse. I do what I usually do in elevators, scramble to find my keys to pass the awkward silence. A kind voice encourages me from the corner of the elevator “Keep being persistent, it’s in there somewhere” I look up to meet a amused twinkle in the man’s eyes. I was struck by the tone in the voice that seem to resonate with my emotional state at the moment. I quipped, “persistence is about the only thing that works” He laughed and replied “touche” I watched him shake and shuffle slowly out of the elevator with his nurse holding his arm. I thought to myself, now that’s a man who knows something about persistence.

This encounter left me reflecting on the elements that helped me get through difficult times. As I think back on my success and failures, it’s persistence that led to both my success and demise. With my strong willed personality, I have two types of persistence in my toolbox: 1. The persistence to work hard on things I know I’m good at    2. The persistence to work hard in order to prove someone wrong. I have found that both approaches have led me to momentary success but ultimately left me in state of utter disillusionment.

So is persistence really the thing that helps me get what I need?

My success has been highlighted by my ability to keep doing whatever it takes. This drive came from growing up watching my immigrant parents struggle miserably at life, both personally and professionally. Day after day, year after year, I would watch my parents engaging in the same self- limiting process, even thought they were miserable— their rationale was: “at least we can count on the same miserable life to wake up to every day” They gave up on the dream of doing better for themselves and focused on the hope that their kids will eventually succeed and compensate for their losses.

It wasn’t my persistence that gave me success in life. It was my parents loss of hope that drove me to achieve. Their helplessness and trauma left me with no option other than to develop a burning need to survive on my own. My favorite proverb “Necessity is the mother of invention” describes the need that gave birth to persistence. Today, this very resourceful part of me is looking for a new role. Now that my parents are settled in a comfortable retirement phase of their life, I am confronted with the ultimate question:

What's next?

What is binge eating?

I notice people respond with confusion and skepticism when I explain my specialty as a therapist who treats Binge eating disorder. They ask "What's the difference between eating too much and binge eating?"

All types of binging are ways to deal with negative emotions in unhealthy, self-defeating ways. When someone feels a need to binge in private, or schedule binges instead of work and being with friends, it's time to re-assess.A binge disorder characterized by feelings of helplessness, secrecy, shame and social isolation. Binge eating is a very common eating disorder in adults. It's in the category under compulsive disorders. It's a problem that can manifest with food, alcohol, relationships, work and shopping.

Treatment starts with accepting that binge eating is a problem. Many experts agree that lack of mindfulness (paying attention to the present moment) is closely linked to compulsive behavior. There are ways to treat binge eating disorder, such as mindfulness meditation and journaling. Getting in the habit of pausing and waiting 5-10 minutes to acknowledge feelings or thoughts is a good way to slow down the impulse to act. Ask yourself when you feel the urgency to binge:

1. Is this really what I NEED?

2. Is this HELPFUL?

3. Am I being KIND to myself?

4. If I didn't do this, what would I be FEELING?

Binge eating can also be a coping mechanism for depression or other mood related problems. Remember, it's not necessary to suffer alone. If bingeing is continuously, negatively impacting your life, therapy should be the first step in taking care of yourself.

Longing to Belong

I walked on to the 2 train this morning and found a man surrounded by mountains of baggage on two carts. My immediate thought was..I am transported back to tribal times..

This man is carrying what looks like  trash. Upon close inspection I notice the care in which he stacked his dirty boxes blankets and bags...carefully secured with locks. What I thought initially were piles of trash I realized was something precious to him: security, safety & belonging.

My idea of nothing means everything to him because it's all he has in this world...

..train conductors voice startled me out of my reverie

"Make sure you have all your belongings with you. Get to your destination safely"

On my way out, I glanced over at the man's pile and notice a newspaper hanging out of the bundle. It was a picture of Martin Luther King ...the caption read: "The mission lives on…"

Questions that comes to mind in my encounters: What do things mean to people? 

The image of MLK -is imbued with indignant rage. This man never leaves the train - he repeats the same routes day in and day out. Engaged in a repetition to resolve an old script in his head. The voices that speak to him replays an old tune.

The path from trauma to recovery - 24 hours after the 11/13 Paris attacks

I'm sitting at a cafe in Paris, watching the sunset, two days after one of the worst terrorist attacks the city has experienced in history.

I'm reading a book called "the trauma of everyday life" by Mark Epstein. In the book, a poem by Buddha catches my mood of the moment:

“Flapping like a fish thrown on dry ground, it trembles all day, struggling.
Like an archer an arrow,
the wise man steadies his trembling mind,
a fickle and restless weapon
The mind is restless.
To control it is good.
A disciplined mind is the road to Nirvana”

— Buddha

I quietly observed the people on the street- who seemed preoccupied by the chatter in their own minds and the chatter outside. I could tell by the jerky body movements and the glazed looks in their eyes. The line from buddha's poem "flapping like a fish thrown on dry ground, it trembles all day, struggling" was the apropos description of what I observed around me. Parisians were thawing from the shock of the terrorist attacks, like fish out of water, trembling helplessly on dry ground.

Out of the corner of my eye, something out of the ordinary caught my attention. I noticed an older French gentleman, who was waiting to cross the street. Unlike the rest of the crowd, he was very still and patient. He seemed tranquil, unlike the crowd around him, who looked hurried & distracted.

I watched him serenely observing his surroundings, walking with a pace that showed ease in the space he inhabited. Then, I noticed he was holding a leash, and saw that he was walking an old dog. A moment of understanding rushed into my awareness. I imagined this dog as a representation of the man's mind. I sensed a deep connection of warmth with the owner. Furthermore, I had a sense that in its canine heart, the dog had accepted the limitations of its physical body and felt secure in the trusted hand of its master.

“Like an archer an arrow,
the wise man steadies his trembling mind,
a fickle and restless weapon”

It dawned on me, in that moment, that trauma creates a sense of uncertainty which triggers the body to distrust the mind --it's master. After the wake of the terrorist attacks, the Parisian's sense of well being and security were shaken to their core. The attacks challenged their presumptions about their world. It brought to light their limitations and awakened a sense of helplessness.

“The mind is restless.
To control it is good.
A disciplined mind is the road to Nirvana.”

The old man and his dog. They were companions in their brave acceptance of the new reality and its limitations. I imagined that in their wisdom, unlike the flapping fish out of water, they chose to stay calm, breathe and walk on steady ground. To trust their mind-bodies to venture together in their new reality, connected by each other, on their path toward an uncertain future.