The Working Models Behind Stress and Low Self-Esteem
08/18/2015, Josh Korda, Huffington Post
We all operate in life in accordance with internal belief systems or "internal working models." These models are a collection of expectations and assumptions based on our early, formative experiences in life: the interactions between ourselves in our first two or three years of life and our caretakers. These developmental events form lasting imprints on the young, impressionable mind, shaping how we view ourselves, other people and the surrounding universe.
It is sadly ironic, and obviously hindering to the healing process, that so many of the root experiences that continue to shape our behaviors and self-views occurred before we're capable of creating narrative memories; in other words, the core of our behavioral patterns are established by events -- interactions with caretakers essentially -- that we'll never be able to recall.
We act in accordance with inner road maps that are largely unknown to us directly, as they're stored in a largely unconscious, behind-the-scenes region of the brain (if we follow Allan Schore's groundbreaking hypothesis, essentially the right hemisphere of the frontal lobe, which manages our emotional and relational experience). These beliefs influence our behavior via a variety of ways:
• creating underlying physical sensations -- the clenched jaw, locked muscles, abdominal muscles that contract during challenging experiences;
• manipulating our breathing patterns creating excitation;
• activating the vagal-vagus nerve to create chest-clenching sensations during abandonment scenarios;
• triggering panic attacks;
• frustrating the rational brain -- the left hemisphere of the frontal lobe -- by pulling our attention back, again and again, to the dramas we're obsessing over. In contrast to the left, the right hemisphere works behind the scenes, providing a vigilant lookout for any experience reminiscent of wounding, childhood abandonments; spotting a possible rejection scenario in the present, it can direct awareness against our will, focusing on the very people we'd prefer to forget.
Only occasionally will some of these core beliefs surface as conscious thoughts: in those rare conversations where we find ourselves, revealing those deepest views of "the way things are" to others, revelations of generally hidden philosophies of self and other.
If we work with others in a healing capacity, we'll watch as the suffering constantly seek verification and support for the very views and beliefs that are maintaining our suffering; people tend to seek confirmation for dualistic blame -- shame schemes, one moment denouncing bosses, spouses, friends, colleagues as the culprits who've caused their addictions or depression; other times blaming themselves in an entirely unconstructive way, explaining that they're "damaged" or "broken," incapable of thinking or acting in skillful ways. It's akin to the alcoholic in denial, for the very patterns of blame and self-loathing that keep them trapped in pathological addictions and perceptual distortions.
"In someone goes along with a distorted view, wrong understanding of life arises. If one has a wrong understanding of life, wrong intentions arise. From wrong intentions, wrong speech arises ... wrong actions ... wrong livelihood ... wrong effort ... wrong mindfulness ... wrong concentration arises." (Avijja Sutta)
Rather than questioning our beliefs about how the world operates, which the Buddha taught as a necessary quality in happiness and liberation, we invariably seek a confirmation of our perceptions, further enslaving us to the damaging behaviors that result from these views. To employ an analogy, someone losing their hearing can blame others for "talking too softly" or "mumbling." Or, with clarity provided by calm reflection, note a pattern of being unable to hear others in various situations, and realize that the problem is not with the world, but with the way its being perceived. In other words, we become aware of our distorted perceptions by observing patterns of experience, rather than reacting to appearances.
Let's investigate another example: if, during our childhood years, we were excessively directed and intrusively monitored by one or more parents, what results in adult years is "engulfment fear," a shunning of intimacy, in which we pull away when others seek any form of emotional commitment or disclosure. Driven by this pattern, we may blame each successive partner for our retreat from intimacy, failing to see the pattern, or road map, that's directing the behavior. As the pattern grows increasingly apparent, we may even seek approval for our views and behavior from friends, demanding an agreement that "romantic partners are too demanding." In short, we fail to see patterns that us imprison us and then demand allegiance to the resultant justifications.
When we walk into a social gathering filled with strangers we automatically prepare ourselves to act in accordance with our self-views; as working models of self-and-other they predict how strangers will react to our presence. These underlying perspectives filter our experiences, akin to wearing an unnoticed pair of lenses that are subtly distorting everything we experience in life. Some of us will operate from the underlying assumption that our needs will be met in the world; when we walk into a social gathering, for example a party filled with strangers, we'll look around and act according to the assumption that others will be friendly and accommodating. Such confidence allows us to investigate the room and connect with others, free of crippling hesitancy or fear. This confidence was born in the earliest relational experiences of life, where caretakers displayed consistent, tolerant parenting skills (Winnicott referred to this as the "good enough mother").
Alternatively, we can wind up empty of empathy or identification with other people, operating from a constant hunger for attention. Let's consider the narcissist, for example. There's a time in childhood, perhaps in the second year of life, when parents are not as available as they were previously; most of us learn that our caretakers can be pulled away to focus their attentions elsewhere (other responsibilities and obligations). These deflating experiences are essential, as they force us to abandon many of the grandiose fantasies of early infancy, where our every gesture brought some degree of attention; suddenly the distracted caretaker appears, and we have to adapt to a news and forces us to live in a new reality; every bid for attention is not received.
But the narcissist bypasses this important stage of development, as during that stage the caretaker's attention remains approving and fixed, the child is not relieved of its grandiosity while it remains in the orbit of the overly rewarding parent. But this attention comes at a cost. The budding narcissist performs a display of inauthentic emotions and behaviors to maintain the caretaker's ongoing admiration: creativity or confidence is rewarded so long as frustration or sadness is concealed. While the inevitable and painful phase of losing the parent's attention is largely avoided, the individual never learns how to process disconnection. Not knowing how to process abandonment leads to a terror of it occurring, and so the narcissist develops their defense, which is a "false self" possessed of all the qualities that can insulate them from disappointment and rejection; they are superior to others. To maintain their sense of superiority and immunity to rejection, a narcissist seeks cheerleaders, as if people were put into the world to provide an audience; like the mother or father of infancy, friends, lovers and colleagues are collected to clap and applaud.
Eventually the Narcissist's False Self becomes an incubator for addictive behaviors: as pressure builds to maintain constant approval and recognition, the fear of inevitable abandonment grows; loss in imminent, as no one can keep up this show forever. And so the narcissist shops to accumulate a collection of "unique and valuable objects" that prove his or her worth; he invests in the stock market to demonstrate amazing business acumen. Pathological gambling, drug use, drinking, reckless behavior are certain to follow. Unfortunately, its only when everything fails, and the "dreaded experience" of traumatic abandonment by others occurs that the pattern can be seen and the Narcissist be expected to seek help.
Others come to expect that their needs will never be met, while everyone else in the room seems to be popular and knows the secret to getting attention and success in the world. Navigating through life via this perspective, we'll expect others to reject or our emotions and needs, so we don't bother to play the game of human intimacy. The world is a dangerous place where other people are not interested in our happiness; other people are essentially uncaring. The distortion makes us overlook how much we need connection with others. Like forgoing sustaining amounts of food, shelter, medicine, if we give up on empathetic support from others, we weaken and never flourish.
In this way karma -- our actions and thoughts, which neurally ingrain future tendencies and states of mind -- is based on our working models and is self-reinforcing. Every time we avoid the risks involved with asking for help from others, shrinking from the possibility of love or compassion, we reinforce the view we won't get what we need. Our road maps (or, in Buddhist lingo, wrong views) are the ultimate cause of this debilitating feedback loop: If we can't perceive the real conditions that are occurring in each moment, we wont see what's available to us -- we'll seek out people who are cold and rejecting, while overlooking the kind and generous. We won't ask for what we need. If we can see other people without this distorted perceptions, which are based on past interactions with entirely different individuals, we may become aware that there's far more help available than our predispositions or programming would have us believe.
Now, if we carry around a view that other people are essentially unkind, we may immediately resort to manipulative behaviors to get our needs met; rather than asking for cooperation, we'll maneuver in ways to get what we want with less risk of rejection. We may resort to lies, subterfuge or threats (emotional blackmail); eventually we'll stumble and fail; our relationships will inevitably suffer. Or we may eventually resort to presenting to the world what Winnicott called a "false self:" we'll say or do whatever it takes to get our needs met; shunting aside our authentic moods and feelings, we'll offer inauthentic behaviors, performances of enthusiasm or limitless acts of accommodating acts, all in the hope we'll eventually win our fair share of the pie. Rather than presenting ourselves authentically, we act out what we believe they want.
The inauthentic strategy might work were it not for one significant drawback: no one can sustain a performance for hours on end, much less an entire lifetime. Eventually we slip up and feel our pesky, real emotions and impulses start to arise; we panic, fearing that if other people may see through the cracks in the facade, discovering who we really are, and everything we've accomplished in the charade will fall apart. Even if we succeed in accomplishing great feats -- becoming successful lawyers or business people in the hunt for acceptance and love -- we'll feel a barren emptiness where self-worth should reside, for the acceptance we've received is not for our authentic, spontaneous, true selves.
As we force ourselves into the shapes and behaviors we believe other people expect, resentment and anger grows. We're suppressing needs after all, just for a modicum of acceptance from others. Moral outrage invariably arises, as other people are only accepting a false presentation: how dare they! Many relationships end in this sad drama, for when we finally show our true selves, all the hidden weaknesses, sadness and fears, our "significant others" and close friends will look at us dismay and respond with some confusion, rather than the acceptance we crave: Why have we been deceiving them for so long?
And so these measures reinforce the belief that the world is fundamentally rejecting and uncooperative. Stress and suffering, in the form of agitation, are the inevitable results.
Within ourselves, within the the backdrop of subliminal Me, we(conscious ) are constantly tweaking our internal formulas to allow to us to advance, socially or professionally.
It is the subconscious Me that forms our karmic propensities.
Hi
that was an intriguing article. I recently had an interesting experience at an holistic center named amedelumiere. Its based at Tanglin view. Firstly i had an energy assessment and after which went through sound therapy. It was amazing. I found them through their website, which is www.amedelumiere.com.sg
I encourage the readers to check them out. Pretty sensational.