There's a lesser known type of therapy known as IFS or "Internal Family Systems". More commonly, it's simply referred to as, "Parts Therapy". I've discovered I'm really not the best at describing what this is, but if you'll bare with me, I'll try.
Essentially, Parts Therapy is the idea that every person is made up of multiple parts. You know when you're trying to make a decision and you think something along the lines of, "Well, part of me wants to do this and another part wants to do this." That's an example of parts being at conflict.
Richard Schwartz - who wrote the book on this type of therapy - noticed many of his clients had this sort of problem. An inexplicable conflict inside of them; like a family that couldn't agree. Hence the IFS title. Schwartz developed Parts Therapy by teaching clients to separate themselves from a part that was hurting them so they could essentially talk to it and figure out why it was there.
In essence, Parts Therapy is learning to treat your problem parts - ie, anxiety, depression, anger, self doubt, etc. - so that you can get to the core of the problem and heal yourself.
If you still don't get it, I'm sorry because I'm moving on.
My therapist taught me how to do this so I could get to know my anxiety better. It's really hard to separate myself from it because it's become such a integral part of me, but sometimes I do manage to get it to "leave my body" as it were so I can talk to it at a distance. It's name is Ani. It's neither a boy or a girl which is why I call it "it". To me, Ani is a humanoid, pale creature that is very very thin. It has long arms and legs with three fingers and toes on each that are thin and sharp. Ani has no mouth, only wide eyes that watch everything. Ani is usually always in a hunched position with its arms either blocking its chest or held out to ward bad things off. Whenever I talk to Ani, it's usually hunched in a corner or hiding under a desk. In a way, Ani bares many physical similarities between these creatures my friend Aubrey and I created in our book Connection. Ironic.
When talking about a problem Part, Schawrtz specifically named them, "Protectors". Most things similar to my anxiety problem are born because something traumatic happened, so a part was created to defend from that ever happening again. The parts that the Protectors are trying to protect are what Shwartz calls "The Exiles". The goal of Parts Therapy is to convince the Protector to let you see the Exile so you can sort of mentally step back into the moment where you were hurt and "reparent" the Exile; tell it what it needed to hear then. That's when you start to heal and your Protector starts to find a different role to play within you.
It's important not to hate your Protectors. After all, they're still a part of you and they aren't trying to do you harm. I struggle with that when I talk to Ani.
My point is, I had an interesting experience with Ani today. I've come to realize more and more recently how much of a role Ani plays in keeping me from writing. Very often, I get a strong sense of foreboding or impending doom whenever I sit down to write, or even if I think about sitting down to write. I wanted to know why, so I brought Ani out and asked it, "What are you afraid will happen if I write?"
Initially, all it said was that I'd ruin the story, but that answer didn't feel complete, so I tried digging deeper. Eventually I discovered exactly what the title of this post says.
You see, I hear stories all the time of writers who are constantly doubted by their peers and have to learn to overcome that. That's a problem I've never had. All my life, when people found out I was a writer, they would exclaim how awesome that was, how they couldn't wait to read my stuff someday, or that I was bound to be the next Rowling. As far as my writing goes, I've never once been doubted by those around me. I've always been believed in and encouraged. That's why Ani had to come in. Ironic, isn't it. You see, the lack of doubt from everyone led me to believe that I was capable of great things, that I really could be a great writer someday. No matter what I say or do, the Perfectionist in me will accept nothing less than stunning work from me. Anything less, and I wouldn't just be letting myself down, but everyone who'd ever known me. True, that sounds ridiculous and exaggerated, but if it weren't how I felt, Ani wouldn't have stepped in to keep me from writing and facing the inevitable pang of failure.
My Perfectionist part is one of the Exiles Ani has long tried to protect. It makes sense that I would dread sitting down to write. No matter how much faith I have in my creativity, I can't write a perfect first draft. But my Perfectionist doesn't care which draft it is. If it's broken, it's worthless and I've let a lot of people down. More than that, even if I did manage to get past draft one and even get published, not everyone whose encouraged me over the years is going to like what I write. My Perfectionist says that means I let them down. One way or another, writing at all is bound to make me a failure, so Ani makes me afraid of it so whatever pain I feel could arguably be less than what it could've been.
This whole post seems very pessimistic and you may be wondering why I didn't just step in and reparent my Exile like I was supposed to. Then I would be on the road to recovery and this wouldn't be a problem anymore. Well, I was going to, but I just don't know what to say. My exile often tries to break free, like when I'd enter a writing contest, but when I'd lose and not even be acknowledged, my Exile would be further bruised. That's part of why Ani's so strong these days. It's also why I have so many memories of my Exile In my life. I can't reparent every memory, can I? Even if I could, I ask you, what exactly do you say to something that's been damaged because it's always been believed in?
That's all. Thanks for listening to my pity fest.
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