The cycle of domestic violence - an addiction to abuse?

The cycle of domestic violence starts off like this:

1. Everything is going ok at the beginning - you're in love, and the relationship is good.

2. Tension grows, from the outside (for example work) or the inside (disagreements in the couple).

3. Domestic abuse happens (in one or several of its many forms).

4. Afterwards the perpetrator apologises profusely, promises it will never happen again, is particularly attentive & nice to the victim, "makes up for it" - the so-called "honeymoon-phase" of domestic violence.

5. And back to number one.

It makes me think of a roller-coaster ride, hence why a comparison to the cycle of addiction is not far off: from the heights of the high, to the lows of withdrawal... and back up (though not nearly as high, because the fear of the lows is creeping in).

In my private practice, I have seen quite a few women in domestic abuse situations, one of whom described it in a particularly striking way: when the tension was very high, she would wish for her partner to hit her, to get it over, so she would get to the honeymoon phase sooner.

It cannot be a coincidence that very many of the victims of domestic abuse I know, both through my work and within my friends, also struggle with addictions... My theory is that it is just as easy to be addicted to an abusive partner, who treats us in turns appallingly and wonderfully as it is to be to any substance, which gets us high and then crushes us.

And the road to recovery is a long one, and starts with the awareness of how we may stay in the cycle, for example by deceiving ourselves because that seems easier to do (in the current moment) than to accept that "cold turkey" is the way to go...

Self-harm - a normal response to unbearable emotions?

Imagine you are feeling worthless.
That your whole life is falling apart.
And now imagine that you can't for the life of you find a way out.
And that then things even get worse.

There is extreme anguish in this. Anxiety. Panic. Sadness. Despair.

How can you possibly cope with those emotions?

Most of us will try to out-run them.
We'll suppress the emotions through alcohol, drugs, sex, endorphins, gambling ... (fill in the blanks) ... whatever we know.

Some of us will deaden the emotional hurt through self-harm. We will cut ourmselves, beat ourselves up, hurt ourselves to a point where the physical pain will drown out our emotional pain.

Physical pain acts like a reset button. We are conditioned to take body pain more "seriously" than mental anguish. For a brief instant, all we feel is the actual physical pain. The emotional pain moves into the background.

Viewed through that angle, self-harm suddenly makes perfect sense, hence my suggestion it may be a "normal" response.

Now before you start thinking that I'm advocating physical harm to help with psychological issues, let me clarify this:

Yes, it might be a normal or natural response, but that doesn't make it a good or a sustainable one. In the same way we can't drown our sorrows in the long term, we cannot self-harm our way out of mental anguish. Eventually, even our physical pain receptors will dull (that is our body protecting us from too much pain), and we would need to "up the dose" - of pain, of alcohol or whatever we use.

What I am advocating, is to look for:
1. healthy ways of dealing with emotional pain - crying, confiding in friends, writing about it, meditating etc. (each person will have their own combination that works for them)
2. different ways to lead your life, to remove sources of anguish (leaving the job where we are bullied, spending less time with the over-critical parent, not putting up with being put down by our partner etc.)
3. when 2. is not possible (for example in the case of grief over a beloved's death), working on ways to accept the new reality.

In other words, dealing with the emotions - not suppressing them.

My role as a therapist is to offer a safe space to do so, to explore the pain, and offer a reminder that you are not alone.

Of the importance of leaving an abusive relationship - and a very short review of "Big Little Lies" by Liane Moriarty

Yes, it may seem like a no-brainer to leave an abusive relationship, but for those who are in it, and have systematically been made to feel small, stupid, ugly or incompetent, some more reasons than just being told "everyone deserves to be treated well" may come in handy.

In the following, I am imagining a situation where there is a male abuser, and a female victim; but of course the opposite happens as well (just less often).

1. If you don't leave, you are putting yourself at a real risk of being maimed or killed by your partner.

2. I you don't leave, you're sending a message to your abuser that his behaviour is acceptable (as you are tacitly accepting the abuse by staying).

3. If you don't leave, your abuser is not given the opportunity to mend his ways - now that is a controversial one, and I would not recommend to offer a second chance in situations of physical abuse; but for most people, change will only occur when there are no more other options - and if he does love you, it may make them realise the necessity of changing (as you send a clear message by leaving that you do not put up with the abuse).

4. If you have children, staying in an abusive relationship is showing them the worst example: your sons will think that abusing women is normal, and your daughters will see that putting up with abuse is the normal thing to do. You're dramatically increasing the odds of your children to become part of abusive relationships themselves - either as abusers or victims.

Often people think domestic violence is about physical violence - but in reality abuse comes in many shapes and forms: http://www.domesticviolence.nsw.gov.au/what_is_domestic_and_family_violence describes how it can be physical, verbal, psychological, financial, social, sexual... The website also offers great information on your rights and where to find help (in Australia).

Liane Moriarty describes all those dynamics beautifully in "Little Big Lies" and still manages to make it a rollicking good read. It's a bit of a "chick-lit" novel, but it covers the subject of domestic violence and its toxic trickle-down effects extremely convincingly. At the same time, the book is a withering caricature of primary-school mums in all their variety and glory, and it had me laughing out loud in many places. 

The Peanut Theory

I was told "the Peanut Theory" a few years ago, but unfortunately I don't remember by whom, so can't give credit. The theory says that there is a little part of the brain, the size and the shape of a peanut, which we use to imagine what someone else is thinking.

Now whether that is a metaphor or a reality isn't the point here - what does matter is that we (humans) spend an inordinate amount of time imagining the things we don't know.

As so often, there is an evolutionary reason of that: those of our ancestors who spent time trying to predict outcomes were more likely to survive and reproduce than those who just "went for it".

The biggest change that has occurred though since the Stone Age is that our world has increased thousandfold in complexity. The amount of information that we have to try and juggle, in order to make good, rational decisions, is near unfathomable.

So we just supplement whatever information we are missing with some good guesses. No issue about that, except that our guesses are of course a projection of our own brain.

What happens in relationships? We will input the way we see ourselves to explain others' behaviours. A few examples, before it gets too dry and boring:

• Your best friend hasn't returned your texts or calls for the last 3 days; you immediately start racking your brain on how you might have offended her. Your peanut is talking. Rational thinking is discarded in favour of emotional thinking (an oxymoron if there ever was one). Other explanations, like the one that she may simply be really busy, don't even make it to the surface.

• You have suffered abandonment in your childhood, and have developed an over sensitive radar for anything that could be construed as such. Whenever you don't have all the information, you're likely to supplement it with theories that centre around abandonment. Your partner being short with you (due to stress at his/her work for example) will likely be construed as him/her having enough of you. 

• You're waiting to hear back from a job interview - if you have experienced a lot of rejections, you will imagine that you have been unsuccessful. If you had mostly positive experiences, you will imagine that you haven't heard back because they're putting together a job offer for you.

So how can the Peanut Theory help us better understand the world around us?
By reminding us to check our assumptions about what other people are thinking, and becoming aware that they are only that: assumptions.

A good question to ask yourself is "do I know this? Or do I imagine I know this?".

How well developed is your peanut?
Are you aware of it when your peanut is getting a work-out?

Procrastination and its hidden usefulness

I am a world-champion procrastinator. Anything that has a deadline will be started only at the shortest possible time before it's due and when a half-way decent job is still achievable.

I have beaten myself up over it, and surprise surprise, so have my friends, family, and anyone who had to live through a few hours of me frantically trying to finish the job/assignment/whatever on time.

Oh, and I'm 43 - an old hand really. You'd think that by now I'd "have grown up" and picked up good habits etc.

Well here comes the crunch: I'm actually convinced that procrastination serves a purpose. Otherwise those with the gene (it MUST be genetic - at least that's my excuse) would have died out - "oh, I'll feed my baby later, once I've finished thinking about how I might hunt down that mammoth".

The thing is, when I do procrastinate, I will think about what I have to do. In detail. Mapping it out. The problem will be thought through and the different options explored, down to what could go wrong and what are the alternatives.

So whilst I'm seen to do nothing about the job at hand, my mind is actually processing it in the background. Quite efficiently it seems.

Because by time the deadline looms, and I have to sit down to actually do the job, I somehow know exactly what needs to be done, in what order, where to look for research, and what words to use if the job is about writing.

So maybe procrastination is not laziness, or lack of willpower. Maybe it's just a different form of preparation.


P.S. Unfortunately none of this applies to procrastinating about going to sleep.
Hello insomnia!

Sex addiction - reality or convenient fiction?

Who hasn't wondered whether sex addiction is even "a thing" when we hear about yet another celebrity couple breaking up due to "his/her sex addiction"? Who hasn't thought that it might have been more a choice of unfaithfulness?

My practice has taught me differently. Yes, it is possible that sex addiction is invoked to cover your garden-variety infidelity, but that doesn't mean it can't be a real addiction.

If addiction is about repressing unpleasant emotions, distracting us, then sex is a prime candidate for that. Whilst we line up the next "hit" - in this case the next sexual partner - our brain is kept very busy, as sex (as in reproduction) has been hard-wired into us for the survival of our species.

Then there is the multitude of feel-good chemicals released by our brains during sex. What is there not to get addicted to?

Once again, when confronted by a scenario of a client having repeatedly sex with near-strangers, I apply my litmus test: what is the motivation? What is he trying to get away from? Is it about fun, or is it compulsive to the point of risking health, relationships and job? When does it happen? What is the link with stress and anxiety?

Answers to all those questions will give me a good indication whether we are looking at an addiction problem.

Now I'm well aware that I'm indicating that sex-addicts are male. Sex-addiction happens to women too, but it is not diagnosed quite as often for them. In my private practice, which is of course not a representative sample, I have definitely seen more men with that problem.

How can you "cure" it?
Like with every other addiction, it starts with awareness. When does it happen, why does it happen, what does it cover up? What emotions are being avoided?

The next stage is about breaking the habit - avoiding the places that trigger the behaviour (and those can be on the internet, in bars, red light districts, "massage" parlours... the list is very long, and will vary for each individual).

The last stage is about letting those emotions out into the open, slowly and carefully examining them, and finding healthier ways to cope with them.

I hear you ask: why cure such a "fun" addiction?

Because the sex in sex addiction is at the opposite end of the spectrum of intimacy. There is no "closeness" created by it. In the short to medium term, the more we bodily interact, the more deserted our emotional landscape becomes.

Because in the end, we are all herd-animals. We have an innate need to belong. And sex for its own sake does not offer us that.


Enjoyed this article? You may like this one on infidelity.

Madame Bovary - a social commentary on infidelity

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert is one of those much-cited, seldom-read novels.
I did read it. About 25 years ago.

It's the quintessential story of a woman who gets married, is dissatisfied with her life, takes one lover then another, convinced they can offer her a better life, and when cast away by them, commits suicide. Her husband dies of grief, and their daughter ends up in poverty.

Put like this, one wonders why it should be read, and why so much has been made of this novel...
Well, for one, it is superbly written. Its style is realism - the opposite of a romantic novel - and that makes it so modern, even today.

Then there is a brilliant social commentary to be found in it: how Emma Bovary's unfulfilled social aspirations ultimately cause her downfall. A theme that is still very topical today. And something that I often hear from my clients.

The bigger the discrepancy between our desires and our life, the less satisfied we are with the latter. In today's world, we are told that we should expect happiness, desire, possessions, that we are entitled to them. Today the entertainment industry (movies, songs, the internet, and to a lesser extent books) shows us what "real life" should be like. Back in Flaubert's time, novels, preferably romantic ones, taught the middle classes what to desire...

Esther Perel puts it nicely, when she says that affairs are less about the person we cheat with, and more about our self as we see it reflected in their eyes. For Emma Bovary, it's about who she is with her lover, the potential she sees of her own life; but of course her life comes down crashing when she is rejected - being not worthy in her lovers' eyes means to her that she is not worthy full stop.

That is always the problem, not only about unfaithfulness: when our value depends on outside appraisals, that value is the opposite of "self-esteem".

Now imagine if you could see yourself as a lover would, without having to resort to an affair; if you could love yourself with the same passion and generosity. In some ways, that is also what therapy is about: to teach you how loveable you are, and that you deserve to be treated well by others - and first and foremost by yourself.

Child abuse and "stranger danger"

As parents, we spend our time teaching our kids to be wary of strangers. Yet I think we are ignoring the forest for all the trees, because most child abuse (over 80%) isn't inflicted by strangers, but by people the children already know.

In my private practice I see adults who have survived sexual abuse as a child. And for none of them the abuser was a stranger. Instead it was the uncle, the tennis coach, the son of the cleaner, the baby-sitter, the father, the neighbour, the teacher, the brother - all had one thing in common: the child trusted them.

Now I don't think that the answer to this is to demonise all men, as we have seen when airlines don't let single men (stranger danger anyone?) sit next to children on a plane.

But rather, one of the things we can do is to raise awareness, both in children and in adults. It is about teaching children what adults are allowed or not allowed to do, and that the child is entitled to say "NO".

My friends often look at me in disbelief when I say I don't let my daughter go on sleep-overs. I in turn look at them in disbelief when they let their child go and sleep at a stranger's house just because the children happen to be friends and it's their birthday. I am quite sure that none of my friends are child-molesters. But is "quite sure" good enough when it comes to my children's safety? Not for me.

So I often am the one who raises the uncomfortable topic. As I am doing today.

One in three girls and one in six boys will be sexually abused in some way before the age of 18 years according to a study by Australian Institute of Criminology from 1993 as cited here.

By all means, do tell your children not to follow any adults they don't know. But also let them know that it is not ok for anyone to touch them inappropriately (I know, not a great chat to have), even when it is someone they like. And that if it does happen, that it is not ever their fault, and that they are safe to tell you, even when made to promise not to.

Another article specifically about male adults survivors of childhood sexual abuse can be found here.

Emotions: why bother with them?

Often my clients who are struggling with emotions of anger, fear or sadness, and who in the course of that struggle have self-medicated with alcohol, drugs, sex or gambling, will ask me:
"What is the point of having emotions?"

When your emotional life mainly presents as suffering, that question is a very appropriate one. Why do we need those pesky emotions which "make us feel bad"?

The answer is very simple: emotions are nature's feedback system (honed over many millennia) for what is happening to us.
Good stuff? positive emotions tell us to get more of those experiences.
Bad stuff? the negative emotions tell us to avoid and stay away.

When we allow ourselves to feel the emotions, we get valuable info on what we need to do.
And when we are brushing them under the carpet with a flick of our mind, or through alcohol, drugs, or whatever we use to self-medicate, we make a situation bearable that is not meant to be bearable.

If we are exposed to trauma and violence, the fear or anger will guide us to fight or flight. When we ignore those emotions, we remain in a situation that is detrimental to us.

Emotions that are not acknowledged do not disappear - they only fester. The fear and anger about having been abused as a child for example might morph as an adult into extreme anxiety for their safety and into panic attacks.

Part of my work with clients who have self-medicated for a very long time is to slowly let them experience those emotions in a safe and contained environment, in our sessions. That allows them to find out what changes they want to make to their lives.

For those suffering from post-traumatic stress or from the long-term effects of having been abused as children, they can start looking at the trauma, and allow themselves to grieve for their losses - of innocence, of safety, of wholeness. Then the next step of the therapy begins: finding a way to make sense and to create a new narrative of their life as survivors, not victims.

A different take on the causes of addiction

Here on Huffington Post is an excellent article suggesting that addiction occurs much less frequently for people who take mind-altering substances and have a life with sufficient quality human connection. It seems to underpin my theory that recreational or "festive" use does not have the same addictive effect than using/drinking to forget.

I don't quite agree with the article's theory that it is not the "chemical hook" that creates addiction, but I too have the sneaking suspicion that the chemical hook is not the only culprit. There are many behaviours which don't involve taking substances (think gambling, sex, running) yet involve a "rush" (usually a release of adrenaline) which can lead to addiction. The chemical hook is still there, but produced by our own brain.

So maybe we should worry less about keeping away from drugs and alcohol and more about having a preventative attitude regarding mental health.

Maybe the point is to protect children (and not just our own, but as a society in general) from abuse and trauma, to allow them to grow into emotionally functioning adults, who will be capable of looking after their needs without self-medicating...

My definition of addiction

Very often my clients and complete strangers (when they hear about my work) ask me whether they "are addicted".

My simple answer is: it is an addiction if you have either lost your health, a relationship, a job, or the roof over your head because of it.

An addiction is actually any behaviour that we do more of than we want, and that we use to mask unpleasant emotions (anger, boredom, sadness...). If you have ever thought you ought to spend less time on Facebook, and not put that into practice, then you have an addiction to Facebook. Personally, I am addicted to reading books.

What my rather flippant answer does, is to point out that there has to be a harmful element to "qualify" a habit as an addiction.

Because let's face it: most of us are addicted to coffee for example. We could not face starting a day without it, even though we hate spending literally thousands of dollars every year on it. Yet no-one seeks professional help for that.

So I suggest we sort our addictions into harmful and harmless ones. And very often my work involves helping my clients to find harmless addictions to replace more harmful ones. Running for example - the endorphins that it releases is addictive - yet you're unlikely to lose your relationships, jobs or house for it. Surfing is another one.

Another way of answering the question "am I addicted?" is to ask yourself what is the price you pay for continuing your behaviour - and whether you can afford to pay it long-term.

And if you can't, then it's time to seek help, before you lose one or all of the essentials: your relationships, your health, your job, your home.

"Festive alcohol" - or when consumption is less likely to lead to addiction

I have a theory (well, more than one, but this is the one for today):

When we drink because we are happy, to celebrate, with friends, what I call "festive alcohol", we drink to enhance a positive state of mind. Alcohol lubricates, disinhibits, but isn't the actual point of the occasion - the celebration is.

When we drink to forget, to numb our pain, or to deaden what we think are otherwise unbearable emotions, that's when alcohol leads to addiction. Because the more we avoid those "bad" emotions (read sadness, grief, anger etc.), and the earlier we start doing that, the less we learn how to deal with them, to process them, and ultimately to accept them. The result? we reach for the glass or the bottle as our first and soon only line of defence. And as soon as the effects wear off, we want to top them up, because the emotions are only pushed under for as long as alcohol's influence hasn't worn off.

Of course, feel free to replace the word "alcohol" with drugs, sex, gambling, or any other addictive behaviour you can think of. They can all be used in the same way - to either enhance what we feel, or to numb ourselves.

I have yet to meet in my private practice a client who says: "I love to party, I'm a happy person, but I have a real addiction problem now". For all of the clients I have ever seen, their addiction stemmed from trying to cope with trauma as well as they could, with the means they had at hand at the time.

So, if you like going to the pub, or drink moderately (whatever that means...) every day and are wondering whether you're an alcoholic - the answer is no, unless you're drinking to drown your sorrows. Same quantity - different purpose - different outcome.

Why I became a therapist

I have always been interested in people: their stories, their emotions, their thinking.
In some ways, just as there are natural story-tellers, I believe I am a natural listener.
I enjoy it. Always have.

Well,  nearly always. When I was a child, I was as egocentric as the next one - happy to prattle on about myself and my world to anyone who cared to listen (or didn't walk away fast enough).
As an adult though, I discovered that everyone had an interesting story to tell, and if I just listened carefully enough, I would find out what makes them tick.

My love of books is a parallel: good writers create "real" people and their stories, protagonists that ring true, not just hastily cobbled together in two dimensions. So reading a great book is like meeting new people in all their complexity.

When I first finished my law studies (a "family curse"), I wanted to work as a headhunter - to find the right people for jobs at the pointy end (executives and/or specialists). And I did, listening to their always interesting, often fascinating lives. The perfect job for someone collecting people's stories.

After a while though, I wanted to know more than just their employment background, or how they got to where they were. I yearned for more depth. So when I took a break to have my first child, it seemed like the perfect time to go back to university for a postgraduate degree in counselling and psychotherapy. I haven't looked back since.

Now I am in the privileged position to listen to my clients' innermost stories, doubts, struggles, to offer them support, and (mostly) to have the wonderful chance to see them come out the other side of the depression, addiction, conflict or abuse they were facing, able to lead a life of their own choosing, instead of a "life-sentence" imposed by their childhood or later traumas.

To say that I enjoy my work as a therapist is an understatement: I actually love it. I often joked that I would do it for free; and the reality is that I have worked pro bono for close to 5 years for the St Vincent de Paul Society (which operates a free counselling service in Redfern).

So I guess this is a perfect example of what Freud called "a conflict of ambivalence": I need to choose between fulfilling my vocation - improving the world, one person at a time - and making a living... And I choose to offer reduced rates to clients with financial difficulties, ensuring thus that therapy is accessible to everyone. Because at the end of the day, what satisfies me most is to see the change I have facilitated.

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