The following video was brought to my attention by one of my long-term clients who also happens to be an excellent therapist and works extensively with concepts of shame in her own practice. This week, I'll be discussing the video in several posts. I recommend that you watch the entire video. It's fascinating, informative and provides a neurological basis for an understanding of shame. The primary lecturer, Allan Schore, and the other researchers don't discuss shame, in particular -- they approach this topic from the perspective of attachment theory; but as you'll see, their explanation of neurological development in the infant help us understand how an early and deep-seated shame takes root. I'm very grateful to my client for sending me a link to this valuable resource:

You're no doubt familiar with the nature vs nurture debate concerning the relative importance of heredity and the environment. Nowadays, the prevailing view seems to be that it's neither one nor the other but an interaction between the two that defines us. Even so, most people assume that you are born into the world with your complete genetic makeup and that you then interact with your environment. The primary lecturer in this video -- Allan Schore, a member of the clinical faculty of the Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences at UCLA -- challenges this view: "One of the great fallacies that many scientists have is that everything that is before birth is genetic and that everything that is after birth is learned. This is not the case." He goes on to explain that there is much more genetic material in the brain at ten months than at birth. Only the brain stem or "primitive brain" is "well advanced" at birth; the rest of brain continues to unfold and develop for the next two years as neurons become myelinated and interconnect. This development does not occur in an automatic and predetermined way in all people; it is powerfully affected by the environment, in particular by interactions and relationships with the primary caretakers.

Continue "Attachment Theory and the Origins of Shame"

The Oedipus Complex in Divorce Situations

Since writing my last post about the Oedipus complex, I've been thinking more about those situations where we might make use of Freud's ideas concerning the family triangle; one that occurred to me is a toxic divorce situation of the kind I described in my post on the shame-based divorce.

To summarize the basic ideas in that post: In situations where unconscious shame and mutual idealization have played a large role in a marriage, if the relationship breaks down and the couple divorces, they usually battle one another to see who will be the "winner" and who the "loser". They often try to enlist the loyalty of their children against one another; the parent who can get a child to turn against the other parent will then feel triumphant over the former spouse. This is a tragic instance of the narcissistic needs of that parent overriding his or her concern for the welfare of the child: desire to take vengeance on their ex drives them to sacrifice the child's fundamental need for a good relationship with both parents.

This dynamic always damages the child, but it can be doubly toxic when added to an Oedipus complex dynamic. Here's a scenario that may be familiar to many of you. I'll describe it in relation to divorced mothers and their sons because I'm more familiar with that situation, though it would also apply to fathers and daughters. In cases where the husband's infidelity instigated their divorce, the ex-wife may often have legitimate grounds to be angry, but that wouldn't justify the kind of destructive narcissistic behavior you sometimes see.

I'm thinking of the ex-wife who makes her son into the "little man", who turns to him for the sort of companionship she might look for with a spouse, and who confides thoughts and concerns inappropriate for a child to hear. She might discuss her financial situation in ways that subtly make the boy feel responsible and protective; she might complain to him about the difficulties of her new status as a single woman and the burdens of running a household alone. Looking to a son to assume some of the chores her ex-husband might have shouldered is one thing; asking him to step into his father's shoes as confidante and life partner is another.

The ex-wife's attempts to poison the relationship between father and son make the situation much more lethal for the boy. You may recall that in Freud's view, the Oedipus complex is "resolved" when the son identifies with his father, internalizes him as part of his conscience as conceived of in the id ego superego model of the mind. That resolution implies an intact family, where the father's authority opposes the son's desire for exclusive possession of his mother; it depends upon the boy's respect for his father and an awareness that the father doesn't actually want to retaliate for those patricidal impulses the son may have harbored.

So what happens when the mother enlists her son as a surrogate husband and at the same time tries to destroy his relationship with his dad? In a particularly toxic way, it confirms the Oedipal fantasy. By trashing her ex-husband, she subtly invites the boy to "kill off" his father; how then can he "resolve" his Oedipus complex in the usual way, by internalizing a positive authority as part of his superego? Even if you don't find the Oedipus complex a compelling idea, you'll probably agree that we do internalize our parents as part of ourselves. What effect will it have on a boy's sense of self to internalize a damaged father? I think it undermines that sense of self and encourages a hatred of authority, even legitimate authority, that will handicap him in his ability to navigate roles and relationships in the world at large.

It's interesting to me that in my practice, I rarely make interpretations that concern the Oedipus complex. It's more something I see as I look around me in the world-at-large. So much of the comments I make to my clients concerns the mother-infant dyad (issues about neediness, emotional dependency and helplessness) or shame and damage to our earliest sense of self. Maybe issues arising from the Oedipus complex have more to do with later development; most of the clients I've seen have struggled with first-year-of-life type issues or come from shattered families. Now that I've been thinking about the Oedipus complex, though, I'll be on the lookout for more instances; I'll let you know if I observe anything noteworthy.

And in the meantime, if any of you has an interesting anecdote that illustrates the Oedipus complex at work, please let me know.

Idealizing Your Baby

Joseph Burgoin

Defense Mechanisms

Self-Esteem and Self-Sabotage

Shame/Narcissism

September 20, 2011September 21, 2011

Good friends of ours recently became grandparents; hearing them talk about the baby -- that brand new life, a blank slate where anything and everything seems possible -- took me back 20 years or so, to the day when my first child came forth into this world. I was not one of those parents who instantly fell in love with his newborn the second it popped out; but not long after that day, I felt overwhelmed with that love nobody can prepare you for. William was born toward the end of May, and that Christmas, at a holiday party for my institute, I went around with a pocketful of photographs, foisting them upon anyone who made the mistake of asking, "How's the baby?" I was besotted.

To me, he was the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. Literally. While I had some objective awareness that perhaps this wasn't true, I nonetheless felt it, as so many parents have done in their turn. I think adoring your baby is a crucial experience for both parent and child, a critical stage that helps the parents cope with the deprivations of child-rearing and plants the seeds from which self-esteem will later develop in the child. I believe it's crucial for the growing baby to feel that he or she is beautiful to the parents; the experience of being adored determines, in large part, what it feels like to be "you" or "me" in this world -- whether we feel self-confident and capable or riddled with self-doubt and shame.

Continue "Idealizing Your Baby"

Self-Consciousness and Performance Anxiety

Joseph Burgoin

Anxiety

Defense Mechanisms

Self-Esteem and Self-Sabotage

Shame/Narcissism

September 15, 2011April 10, 2013

Most of us have had the experience of hearing a recorded version of our own voice and thinking, "I don't really sound like that." In preparing the first two videos for my website and new YouTube channel, I've had to observe myself in a similarly unfamiliar way. As I've seen myself on camera -- editing different takes, perceiving my discomfort, watching myself fumble because of anxiety -- I've had to take a different look at how I appear to others. At the same time, this has brought me into closer contact with my own self-criticism; I've had to confront that savage inner voice in ways I don't usually do.

That critical voice tells me things in ways that aren't particularly useful, but there's often an element of truth. Getting feedback from friends and site visitors has helped me to filter our the harshness and distill everyone's observations (including my own) into something useful. The best reality check came from a client who viewed the first video on bipolar disorder and told me I didn't seem at all like the person she'd known for so many years. She could see I was struggling; she commented on my anxiety. I think she meant that I didn't seem at ease and lacked my usual self-confidence. To me, it feels a lot like playing the piano. If I'm alone, I can play my current piece almost perfectly, completely immersed in the music, almost without self-awareness; if you give me an audience, I'll become self-conscious and start to fumble. I'm sure many of you have had similar experiences.

These situations involve the process of projection, where our own inner critic is projected outside into the audience. Artur Rubinstein, one of the greatest pianists of the 20th century, suffered from such severe performance anxiety that he would become physically ill before each concert and sometimes had to be forced onto the stage. The pianist father of one of my clients was so crippled by stage fright that he eventually abandoned his concert career and spent his life teaching instead. For some reason I don't entirely understand, this process of projection seems to intensify the self-criticism. Maybe it's because instead of one critical (internal) observer, you have thousands outside, each one of them just as critical as you are. In recording myself on camera, I'm no doubt inhibited by the fantasy of potential viewers watching me and finding fault. So maybe if I'm very careful and controlled, I can avoid doing that one thing or expressing myself in that one particular way that all of you out there will criticize!

For that reason, what comes across most to me as I watch myself on camera is my guardedness. I'm trying so hard not to make a mistake! As a result, I lack spontaneity or a sense of ease, and several of my personal qualities seem to be missing: my warmth, first of all. More than one friend has told me I need to smile more, the way I do in social interactions; but what exactly is there to smile about when discussing the extreme suffering behind major symptoms of depression and manic flight? In a similar vein, I have a lively sense of humor. I like to laugh a lot; even in sessions with clients, we'll often laugh together about something we both find funny. How to convey that in a video for an audience of people who don't know me? It's hard to laugh "with" a camera, even if I could find something to laugh about in bipolar disorder. An actor-friend who has done a lot of work on television told me I need to address the camera as if I were speaking to somebody I know well, explaining my ideas to an intimate. Okay, I'll work on that one.

A part of my anxiety also comes from not wanting to appear narcissistic, as if I think I have all the answers. It should be obvious from this website that I don't believe in answers or solutions of the kind so many mental health professionals seem to offer. I also spent a lot of time in a professional community where it was too often personal charisma -- the appearance of having it all together and knowing the answers -- that made people want to connect with you. And yet, here I am, putting myself on video and promoting myself as an authority. Surely that is narcissistic behavior of some kind. What makes me think I have the right to put myself forward in this way?

I do think I have something of value to say, a point of view that's different from most of what's available in the mental health community at large and online. Video has become increasingly important for reaching an Internet audience, so as uncomfortable as it makes me feel, I'm committed to putting myself forward in this way. I expect that in time, I'll get better and more relaxed with the process. If you haven't seen it already, I've made a second effort, a piece about narcissism and 'The Social Network'. You can view that video by clicking on the Vimeo link below.

I think this one is a little better. There's even the hint of a smile at the very end!

The Shame-Based Divorce

August 31, 2011September 5, 2011

In an early post about winners and losers, I discussed how underlying feelings of shame often lie behind hyper-competitive and triumphant behavior. One of the less obvious ways this shows up is in relationships and marriage. Some people -- usually those who tend to display other kinds of narcissistic behavior, as well -- link up with partners because they believe such a bond will make them ideal. Just as some men and women want to be admired for their looks, or how much money they have or the size of their house, others want to be envied for their relationship. They look to an ideal marriage to cure underlying shame and to disprove how they feel about themselves. If I'm married to X and we have this amazing marriage, then I can;t be a total loser.

Continue "The Shame-Based Divorce"