Why Therapy Is Hard

It's been said that each person comes to therapy divided into two people: one person seeking to change, one person seeking to stay the same. This is not just true of therapy, it’s true in our day to day lives. Therapy is a place where both parts of ourselves can be learned from and understood as genuine parts of a holistic self.

1/12/20255 min read

a man holds his head while sitting on a sofa
a man holds his head while sitting on a sofa

Why Therapy Is Hard

Often times in counseling with high conflict families, there comes a conflict where both parents or even all members of the family unravel in their communication to each other to the point where everyone is making their point and at the same time no one is listening. Adler might call this the power struggle, Gottman might call it a conflict blueprint, the layperson might just call it bickering. This is the deciding moment of maturity in a person and a system to see if, in the midst of this metaphorical hell of constant conflict, they can become conscious of this arising of discord, notice it non-judgmentally, and become the witness of it if just for a moment - the observer, the listener. If one of the members of the group (i.e. the parent) can do that, it has the potential to change the entire dynamic. This is what separates an individual from the stance of a traumatized child and a grounded adult, and one of the primary purposes of therapy.

So, easy enough to say this when a child is not throwing a magnatile across the room and shattering your glass cabinet, but why is it that it’s so difficult to stop the cycle on practice? To be able to recognize when we are caught in this unhelpful cycles of conflict?

The Stories That Live Us

Carl Jung used the word “complex” to describe the a cluster of emotions, memories and perceptions that arise in us in response to a threat to the stability of our identity. He wrote, in his time, “Everyone knows nowadays that people “have complexes”. What is not so well known, though far more important theoretically, is that complexes can have us.”

Essentially, Jung’s stance on these complexes show that our egos are not as in control as we might think. There are moments when the traumas of the past place us our bodies and brains into stories that dictate our actions without our being conscious of it. In families, these stories unconsciously become solidified over time, to the point where it feels that this is the way things are/our family is, when in fact it is simply a sequence of relations that has kept the chaos at bay for a time — with a price, of course. Often the people that pay this price are the children, and they will surely punish their parents for it.

Without getting too deep into Jungian theory, the modern equivalent of the idea of complexes is when our brains move into “fight or flight” mode. We are pulling resources together to protect ourselves from imminent danger, despite often being completely safe. This is often because of the fear of the past repeating itself, and the “complex” of our trauma responses has taken the driver’s seat.

But here’s the problem: we can acknowledge and even articulately talk about our traumas and complexes in therapy all we want, but until we have an experience where we actively choose against our dysregulated response and also experience a different outcome than the one we’ve experienced in the past, it will be impossible for our bodies to learn that it is safe to change our pattern of over-protection. We will constantly sabotage our own progress and the progress of others in order to keep us protected.

So, how do we do the impossible of changing a pattern that our entire identity, from which much of our action arises, resists changing?

“Acting As-If” In Our Relationships

In therapy, the salve for many family and relationship conflicts often comes down to basic communication. There are all the aforementioned hurdles and wounds, but usually the wounds are what is in the way of being ABLE to hear and listen and communicate. The wounds give rise to the ghosts of the past, and soon we are looking dead in the eyes of the parent who hurt us, the brother who abandoned us, the former lover who betrayed us, meanwhile the person in front of us is miles away in our mind. But this is, after all, still a lapse in communication. We aren’t able to reach each other. If I see someone else in you, I am not communicating WITH YOU, I’m communicating to an unresolved relationship in my past.

The subtleties of this can’t be overstated. As I said, it is not as simple as just recognizing this. We need action. And sometimes, when I have grown so accustomed to resurrecting these ghosts when certain things trigger me, I simply need someone to instruct me HOW TO LISTEN. What do I say and how do I say it?

Often times, this is what family systems therapists and couples therapists will do. They will coach people on how to listen, how to support your partner even when it feels like you’re acting. Hence the term being used to “act as if” you were listening, so that eventually it will become integrated when you see the impact your effort has made, both on yourself and your partner, and all of a sudden you find yourself saying it AND meaning it. Saying things like “I hear you”, repeating what their partner said in their own words, using “I” rather than “you” statements, etc.

In response, sometimes people will say, “that feels inauthentic”, or “but I don’t really mean that”, or “but that’s not what I think about it”. And of course we say this. When we have not experienced what genuine empathic communication feels and sounds like, it sounds inauthentic. However, if one genuinely sees the hopelessness of the previous patterns to change your present, the acting can become like play in the space of the unknown. You start to pay attention differently. You see what your body feels like, you examine what kinds of feelings are evoked, and most importantly you learn that your self and the selves of others are fluid. Not entirely, but in essence your identity is ephemeral and constantly evolving. Acting-as-if is a way to try on a different identity that will likely fit you much better than the one you've been wearing -- if you give it time to break in.

The Difficult Task of Responsibility

The transformation of one's identity can be, of course, potentially devastating and disappointing, as our well-trodden paths are seen in all their horribly glory as woefully unsuited to the purposes of our growth. But this disappointment is the beginning of growing up, of the difficult task of response-ability. And allowing this disappointment to truly sink in, to go into it rather than avoid it, is allowing the ghosts of the past to rest so that when the opportunity to listen arises, we don’t go into our closet to bug them and bring them out to our aid. Instead, we recognize that ONLY WE can stop the torturous cycle of our own internal patterns. And in the end, the ghosts of your past will thank you for it. Odds are that they have many beautiful things that they'd rather be doing anyway.