"Just when we had girded ourselves against the sociopath next door, Burgo alerts us to the narcissist across the street. What a neighborhood!" - The New York Times Book Review
So my book will finally be available on Monday, I'm caught up on all the work I've been neglecting and now have some free time to focus on other things, such as continuing my video series on psychodynamic psychotherapy. This is the fourth installment and it deals with resistance in the early phases of treatment.
Like many of my clients, I have certain intrusive memories -- some of them going back more than 40 years -- that carry with them the sting of shame. It's no longer a frequent experience for me, but when one of them pops into my mind, I have a very distinct physical reaction. I close my eyes and flinch; my body tightens, as if I'm expecting a physical blow, and my sphincter contracts (sorry if this seems like TMI, but I'm interested to see whether any of you have the same experience). These memories exist in an non-assimilated state, distinct and self-contained. Each time, they come back in exactly the same form, producing the same unpleasant physical response. I think of them as "cringing shame memories."
Because I write so much about the topic of shame on my website, I'm often asked if I'm familiar with the work of Brené Brown, the noted shame researcher from the University of Houston. I've known about Dr. Brown for quite some time now and have watched both of her TED Talk videos several times, but until recently, I hadn't read any of her books. With the release of Daring Greatly and its climb up the bestseller lists, I decided it was time I acquainted myself more deeply with her work, especially as I've begun the background research for my book on shame in earnest.
Continue "Brené Brown’s “Daring Greatly” and the Anti-Shame Zeitgeist"
One of my Skype clients was recently searching for an in-person therapist to see her husband and decided to ask for a referral from an eminent professional in the city where she lives. With an international reputation, this man has authored several books and is frequently invited to speak at conferences all over the world. Not long after she left a voice message indicating that she'd like him to suggest a referral, he returned her call and offered himself as a candidate. Because she had assumed (given his reputation) that he'd have a full practice, his offer took her by surprise. She felt (and I also felt) that those openings in his practice didn't reflect well on his skills as a therapist.
After the session in which she and I discussed the referral, I thought differently about it. I recognized my underlying belief, one I suspect is shared by many of my colleagues: in order to appear successful as a therapist (and in many other professions), you cannot appear needy. Back in Los Angeles, my colleagues and I taught classes and supervised interns and gave papers in order to build our practices, but rarely asked directly for referrals. You must put yourself forward as a competent authority, hoping that other people will see you as such and then send referrals your way. Or you buy private supervision from one of the rainmakers in the field, often for years, until they eventually decide to feed you new clients (the president of my institute once privately described it to me as "indentured servitude"). You do all these things to get the clients you need in order to sustain a practice but you're not supposed to ask for them.
The eminent therapist who asked my client to consider him as a candidate thus looked too needy. In this warped view of mine, expressing need disqualified him as a therapist. In order to get what you need, you have to appear not to need it. Is that crazy? I'm embarrassed that I still hold this view on some level. It feels like a kind of hypocrisy: the people who come to me for therapy often feel ashamed of their own needs, feeling as if they must hide their neediness or be rejected; I always try to help them acknowledge those needs and feel brave enough to ask for what they need in their relationships. Do as I say, not as I do. Tsk tsk tsk.
I feel some embarrassment even now because I need your help, but I'm going to ask for it anyway. As you know, my book Why Do I Do That? will be released later this month -- on October 29th, to be precise. Because I withdrew from my contract with New Harbinger Publications, electing to release the book on my own, I don't have a publicity department behind me; I must take charge of all the promotion myself. I'll be doing my best to promote awareness through press releases and scheduling interviews, but the greatest potential for making this book a success lies with you, the regular readers of my posts. I'm asking for your support at this critical time.
As you may know, I've been writing this website for just about two years now. As of today, I've written 168 posts averaging 500-1000 words in length; there are over 5,100 comments on the site, almost half of them mine because I try to answer nearly every reader who submits one. In addition, I've received hundreds of private emails from people asking for advice and I've answered every one of them. I don't charge for answering a comment or replying to an email, nor do I accept advertising on my site. After Psychotherapy has been a pro bono labor of love and I plan to go on with this non-paying venture; my efforts are more than repaid by the gratification I derive from writing and sharing my ideas, and from the gratitude of the people I reach.
I'd like to make some money off of my book, of course, but even more, I want it to be successful. I've been writing since I was 12, and the publication of this book is a very big deal for me. If it does well enough, I may get the attention of a more mainstream publisher and have the opportunity to reach a larger audience. I've so enjoyed having total artistic control over my book that I'm not sure I still want to go that route, but at least I'd like to have the option. My research tells me that I need to rank well on Amazon, and that becoming an "Amazon bestseller" for even one day is important. In order to do, that I'll need your help.
Here's what you can do:
1. Buy a copy of the book from Amazon, preferably on October 29th. The trade paperback version (242 pages) costs $14.95 and the eBook $8.95. Ask yourself whether the time you've spent here and the posts you've read have given you insight or enjoyment worth 15 dollars. It's your chance to give something back to me and I need it. I'll also be very grateful!
2. Let other people know about it. Tell friends and put something about it on your Facebook status. Word of mouth is everything.
3. After you read the book, write a review on Amazon and/or one of the other book review sites like goodreads.com. Hopefully it will be a positive review: the number of good reviews a book receives correlates well with sales. Some time during November, I'll make both the print and digital versions available on Barnes & Noble, the eBook only on iTunes.
If any of you have your own websites and would be willing to review the book, please write and let me know (afterpsy@gmail.com); I'll send you an advance digital copy. I'd like to coordinate a number of reviews or mentions right around the time the book comes out. Or if you know someone else who might be interested in reviewing it, please let me know. Finally, if you have any suggestions for other ways to promote the book, please do not hesitate to tell me.
Thanks for your help!
Oh ... and here's the cover
Twice within the last six months, I've heard the 18-year-old son of friends use the expression "put to shame." The first time, he told me that Lea Michele's rendition (Glee) of "Don't Rain on My Parade" put Barbra Streisand's version to shame (I beg to differ). More recently, he told me that a certain designer's collection during Fashion Week in New York "put to shame" the work of another well-known designer. It got me thinking about the use of the word shame in this expression and what exactly it means.
Most of the online dictionary definitions focus on embarrassment or humiliation. The superior achievement of one person makes another feels humiliated or embarrassed. In other words, the expression involves a comparison between two people, one of whom is above the other. This pairing between a "winner" and a "loser" has been a theme of my writing on this website from the outset. In particular, I've focused on the way many people project their own shame into someone else and then triumph over the other person, as if humiliating someone else "proves" that he or she has gotten rid of all shame. Bullying serves the same function.
In middle school, a period when tweens and young teens feel anxious to find their place in the social hierarchy, when cliques form and divisions between popular kids and the outsiders become more defined, one unfortunate girl or boy is often ostracized and forced to carry unwanted shame for a group of persecutors. Most of you will have heard, read about or experienced this kind of scapegoating. The person who finds himself the target of such persecution usually has some level of shame already -- a sense of being unlike others, lacking traits or qualities that other "normal" kids possess. The group likely intuits this shame and "projects into reality," as we say. Two young men currently in my practice fit this description and found themselves teased and bullied as they came of age. The experience has left them cautious and watchful: in social situations, they strive to adopt behaviors that will allow them to fit in, to escape the feeling of being different, and to make sure no one can see their damage.