As a specialist in anxiety, I’ve seen countless people after they’ve gone through months—years, even—of ineffectual psychotherapy. Yet I’m surprised time and again by the inaccurate beliefs guiding the practices of so many mental health professionals. Some of their methods, which derive from unsubstantiated theories, can interfere with progress or even make anxiety symptoms much worse.
A psychoanalyst once told me how frustrating she found treating people with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD). “They never get better,” she said.
Unlike her, I really enjoy working with people who have OCD, in large part because they often do make dramatic strides in treatment, and in a relatively short time. But I don’t doubt she didn’t see much progress.
A psychoanalytic therapist would encourage her patient to explore childhood experiences to uncover the allegedly unconscious forces behind symptoms. In theory, once a person figures out the deep-seated reasons for feelings of anxiety or for intrusive thoughts, distress will dissipate. In practice, however, this solution frequently becomes part of the problem.
People with anxiety strive above all to maintain control—over their physical sensations, their thoughts, and the outcome of events. Paradoxically, when they avoid upsetting situations, analyze every last detail of a thought, or try to figure out the reason for their worries—all common but counterproductive tactics—they become more anxious. These efforts backfire because they prevent the anxious person from learning to tolerate uncertainty and handle uncomfortable feelings. From a cognitive-behavioral perspective, developing a tolerance for uncertainty and acquiring the skills for coping with emotional distress are the primary goals of therapy.
Focusing on the whys can be problematic for two additional reasons. First, trying to figure out the origin of a worry can serve as an avoidance tactic, encouraging rumination (something people with anxiety already do too much of) over action. Second, emphasizing the need to understand where an anxiety issue originated gives undo credence to the thoughts.
Many people I treat have a type of OCD characterized by repugnant mental obsessions (such as the fear of being a child-molester or of committing a violent crime). They’ve become trapped by their thoughts precisely because they’ve attributed too much significance to them. We all have strange and sometimes disturbing ideas from time to time. If we don’t make too much of them, they usually just come and go. Not so if you have OCD.
Obsessive worrying starts with ordinary random thoughts. Say you’ve just read an article about the Sandusky trial. You’re appalled by the witness testimonies. You think, “How could anyone do that? I could never imagine doing that!” But then you start to wonder. “Why am I so interested in this case? Does that mean I unconsciously want to molest children?” The more you think about it, the more anxious you get. You try to push the thoughts out of your mind but they keep coming back. Thus are the seeds of a full-blown obsession planted.
In the interest of fairness, I should point out that psychoanalysts aren’t the only therapists who can make a problem worse by using counterproductive approaches. I’ve heard of cognitive-behaviorists who, apparently not having kept up with the current literature, advise patients to practice “thought-stopping”—visualizing a large stop sign or snapping a rubberband on the wrist whenever unwanted thoughts occur-—to short circuit disturbing cognitions.
This technique gained a fair amount of traction twenty or so years ago. I’m embarrassed to admit I myself recommended it to more than a few people back in the day. But we now know from the social psychology research on thought suppression that trying to push thoughts out of our minds only intensifies them. So it’s more helpful to make peace with unwanted mental intrusions than to engage in efforts to banish them.
Another misapplied behavioral method, one commonly recommended for managing panic attacks, is relaxation training. Sometimes practicing deep-breathing can be helpful, especially for controlling hyperventilation. But trying to relax often can lead to more tension in a person who fears the sensations caused by extreme anxiety. So learning to ride out a panic attack using “interoceptive exposure”—invoking symptoms such as dizziness or a rapid heart rate to practice allowing them to pass without trying to control them—is much more effective in the long run than trying to head off the feelings by attempting to relax.
If you’re not sure you’re benefitting from therapy, tell your therapist. Discuss the treatment plan and the rationale behind it. Gather information from the websites of credible organizations (no message boards, please) and don’t hesitate to inquire about the latest research. The process of psychotherapy is often more an art than a science. But if you think you’re making no progress or find yourself feeling worse, an unscientific approach may be the reason.
In my last post I came clean about my word game addiction. I’m pleased to say I’ve taken steps to detox, and although I still have some work to do, I’ve made progress. I’ve been road-testing some research-proven techniques for habit change and have found a few particularly helpful.
1. Doing a cost-benefit analysis of the habit I wanted to change boosted my motivation at the outset and has gotten me back on track when I’ve slipped. Writing down the costs and benefits is critical even if you think you’re fully aware of them. In a moment of weakness, it’s too easy to rationalize away the costs. Having them in front of you in black and white, to review when your resolve falters, not only can strengthen your determination but also can help you delay the impulse to give into temptation, allowing the urge time to dissipate.
Don’t be too quick to downplay the benefits of a bad habit or even an addiction—the rewards keep a behavior going. Most of the benefits I listed are common to most self-soothing activities that backfire when done to excess, such as eating or drinking: they’re fun, pass time, and are relaxing.Two additional positive aspects of playing word games make it unlikely I’ll relinquish them completely: they’re mentally challenging and build brain power.
On the cost side, I came up with the following: they give me headaches, cause me to lose sleep, detract from more productive pursuits, interfere with conversation, make me feel guilty for wasting time, and annoy my husband.
So I set a goal I thought would be reasonable and achievable: to limit the time I spend playing word games and make the activity a conscious choice I can control rather than a mindless time-filler.
2. Tracking the habit provided me with useful, albeit disturbing, information about it. I could easily fool myself into believing my game-playing wasn’t excessive until I started recording the time. Twenty or thirty minutes? Think again. The first day I logged an appalling two hours—five minutes here and ten minutes there can add up before you know it. The next day, motivated by embarrassment at my sloth, I cut my time in half.
3. Identifying the triggers, both external and internal, helped keep me from mindlessly clicking on Word Scramble. The kitchen table is a bad place for me to sit after dinner because that’s where I usually play (and snack—another mindless habit I’d like to break). Also, I’m tired at night and have depleted my daily store of willpower, so I’m more apt to succumb to habits without thinking.
4. Building willpower daily by doing one or two brief exercises to practice initiating activities and resisting impulses gave me another boost. Think of willpower as a muscle you need to exercise. I applied a strategy drawn from the social psychology research. A substantial body of evidence shows that consistently practicing self-control exercises—even small, arbitrary ones such as throwing away the junk mail or refraining from swearing—can help develop the willpower you’ll need for bigger challenges.
I chose a task I hate doing but takes less than five minutes: brushing my dog Freddie. He hates it, too, so I always put it off until he’s badly matted. Now every day when we come in from our walk—while he’s still on the leash and can’t run away from me—I spend a few minutes grooming him. I still feel a powerful urge to forego the brief ordeal, especially when I’m pressed for time, but I’ve managed to do it anyway.
Being able to “do it anyway” is the key here. If you can remind yourself that not wanting to tackle a chore is just a feeling you can push through, you’ll be in better shape to resist those willpower-depleting urges.
(For more on the subject of willpower and lots of useful tips on how to cultivate it, check out The Willpower Instinct by psychologist Kelly McGonigal, PhD.)
5. Finding a substitute that is equally satisfying but more easily contained also helps. I’m not talking about eating a 60-calorie Fudgsicle when you’re really craving a piece of chocolate triple layer cake. That trick never worked for me. But replacing Word Scramble with a page-turner detective novel really fit the bill. The book served equally well if not better as a way to relax and put off doing chores—so effectively, in fact, that I spent an entire Saturday reading and getting nothing else done.
My son, who was also hooked on Word Scramble thanks to me, found another way to break his habit. He beat the game so many times—scoring over 2000 points and causing the app repeatedly to shut down—he no longer found it at all challenging. He was done.
But I’m not likely to outplay the game any time soon. So I’ll just have to keep plugging away, building my willpower one small step at a time.
On Saturday mornings I volunteer to assist my friend in the dog training classes she teaches. When the alarm goes off at 5:30 am, I always grumble and vow not to sign on for the next session. But in the end, I reenlist time and again, always forgetting how much I hate forgoing the luxury of sleeping in after a workweek of early risings.
Why do I opt for another commitment over sleep? Because it’s so much fun! Especially when we have a class full of puppies like the one we’re currently teaching.
Aside from the obvious too-cute-for-words factor, the puppies are great to work with because they haven’t yet built up a repertoire of annoying bad habits. They’re still very malleable. For the most part, their owners are, too (having already demonstrated their motivation with their willingness to bring their dogs to a 7:30 am class on a Saturday).
Training dogs is a lot like training people, except much simpler. Dogs don’t tend to analyze their actions. If a behavior, such as sitting on command, yields a good payoff, such as a piece of chicken, the dog will repeat it again and again.
Their owners, however, sometimes have trouble buying into this concept despite its scientific grounding in learning theory. We know positive reinforcement increases the frequency of a behavior. But the students in our dog training classes tend to be stingy with food rewards, often arguing that a “Good dog!” or a pat on the head (which animal behaviorists say dogs tolerate, but don’t enjoy) should be sufficient. Come to think of it, the parents of the teenagers I work with often feel the same way about giving their kids tangible rewards for behaviors they’re trying to cultivate.
I also like my dog classes because they give me a forum where I can freely express my opinions about hot-button issues. In my professional life, I try to remain neutral about treatment philosophies I find lacking. But on Saturdays I have free reign to voice my disapproval about theories of canine behavior I deem inappropriate or just plain wrong.
Take the outdated but still wildly popular concept of dominance. Despite its having been discredited by veterinary behaviorists, dominance theory is often invoked by traditional, compulsion-oriented dog trainers like Cesar Millan to justify unnecessarily harsh training methods designed to establish the owner as “alpha.” Even if punishments don’t physically harm a dog (as with the classic “leash pop” for disobedience), they don’t promote optimal conditions for learning. And interpreting an animal’s failure to respond to a command as a sign of insubordination often detracts from the thorough analysis of the problem needed for an effective solution.
If you believe the ultimate goal is to control your dog rather than teach it how to behave, you’ll get frustrated, maybe even angry, if a training exercise isn’t going your way. I saw this happen one day with a neighbor, who was trying to train her recently rescued Golden Retriever to sit squarely at her side when she stopped on their walk. (This position for the “automatic sit” is a requirement in the competitive obedience ring, and old school obedience classes still make it seem like a necessity for pet dogs, too.) Every time they came to a halt, the dog sat a foot in front of her owner, looking back expectantly.
Great, I thought. The Golden had bonded and was checking in, waiting to see what was expected next. But my neighbor was getting increasingly irritated. She kept jerking the leash to “correct” her dog for sitting in the wrong place. Eventually the animal stopped glancing back at her, probably having concluded that turning around was causing the unpleasant tugging sensation on her neck.
By way of explanation, the owner said to me, “She’s dominant. That’s why she’s sitting in front of me.”
Well, no. The dog sat in front because she’d never been taught the rules of the obedience ring. She didn’t know she was supposed to park herself next to her handler’s left leg with her nose in line with the knee. And with the training method my neighbor was using, the hapless dog wouldn’t be figuring out any time soon what she was supposed to be doing.
People often attribute their difficulties to hidden motivations when they’re trying to modify their own habits, too. In my experience, this tendency to search for supposedly unconscious obstacles to change (“I’m lazy,” or “I must really want to fail, deep down”) makes it harder to come up with effective solutions.
So if you’re trying to change your dog’s behavior, or your kid’s, or your own, remember, you’ll make much more progress if you ask “how?” instead of “why?” And, as I constantly remind the puppy owners: Don’t skimp on the rewards!