what is the point of therapy?
The point, my friend – is to become a friend to yourself.
You come in with pain, right? All sorts of aches and pains, nervous systems screaming at you; sleepless nights, or detached days, where nothing really feels alive anymore, and you wonder: is this what living is supposed to be? You compare your insides to others’ outsides, and you think, I’m a freak, I’m a loser, I’m a weirdo. You feel alone, like no one else seems to have these feelings, these problems. You feel compulsive, apathetic, insecure, enraged at traffic, or you shout expletives at your spouse, AGAIN, and you’re just… tired.
We get lots of tired people in therapy.
Because everyone’s tired. The human condition is tiring. Interpersonal neurobiology tells us that the brain is wired to detect threats. Something bad happens and we’re wired to, at least, attempt to save ourselves from it happening again. So we attempt, and attempt, and attempt, until all that energy poured into attempting becomes a black hole. We sink down into it. It rends us limb from limb, into oblivion.
Interpersonal neurobiology also tells us about social baseline theory: Humans “find it easier and less energetically taxing to regulate emotion and act when in proximity to familiar and predictable others.” 1 In short, this exhaustion, this black hole collapsing on us- becomes less taxing simply by having a relationship at our side. So we get to therapy, we cultivate a relationship with a stable other, and then the exhaustion lightens
up. Just enough so we can take a good look at it.
And once we look at it, we become the stable other to the exhaustion itself. We befriend it. We learn to love it. And behind that exhaustion, is the fear of pain. So what do we do next? We befriend the fear of pain. That fear wants to spare us, doesn’t it? But it does so in ineffective ways. So we learn to love the fear as we would a small, panicked child. We calmly and lovingly accept and soothe that child.
And then what next? With the fear soothed, we are calm enough take a square look at our pain, and… learn to love the pain. The pain is initially blinding, and we’re afraid it’ll sear us, but we take one breath, and then two, and we discover that our pain is far more intricate, far more complex, brilliant and… alive than we imagined. It’s a force of nature inside of us. The pain brings messages to us. It teaches us what we love, what we care about most. It tells us what we value. To encounter the pain, with the calming presence of a stable other, with the tools we’ve learned in therapy at our side, that actually …brings us to life.
And then the thing that felt impossible actually happens: we encounter our joy. The joy that is our birthright. The joy that’s just as much a part of the human condition, but ever so much quieter. The joy that is free. The joy that is intertwined with pain and grief, but also with delight, vitality, passion, and realness. The joy that leads to honest, resilient, courageous and interconnected living.
So to befriend ourselves, in all our pain and our joy. In a nutshell – I think that’s the point of therapy.