Why self abuse feels okay (even though it isn’t)

Ever tried a swap test to detect your own bias? One of the most power realizations for me in my ongoing fight with depressive self abuse tendencies was applying a swap-test on how I treated myself.

What is a swap test?

Most often the swap-test concept is brought up in unconscious bias discussions pertaining to privilege and diversity issues. The idea is you take a single scenario and do some sort of evaluation on it. Then you take the same scenario and redo the evaluation but only change the concept of the person involved. If the evaluation changes, it indicates a double standard.

For a specific example, see this particular study where two resumes for a lab manager job were sent around for evaluation where there was only one difference in the resume was the first name of the applicant (Jennifer vs. John). In this experiment, it was shown that even though the only change was the name, the reviews of the resume were strikingly different with “Jennifer” getting significantly lower scores for competence and lower salary offers. It highlights an bias in evaluating what is appropriate for someone based purely on a concept of who they are (in this case, female versus male).

Okay…great…how does this apply to self-harm? My assertion is that self-harm implies a bias that where one devalues oneself and that this can be identified in a swap test.

Self-abuse and the swap test

There are at least 3 types of self-abuse that occur for me:

1. Internal self-berating monologue (thinking “You’re such an idiot”)
2. Voiced self-berating monologue (saying “you’re such an idiot”)
3. Self-inflicted physical pain (digging nails into your skin)

Of the above, probably only the third clearly sounds like self-abuse.

That’s a totally understandable line of thinking! Who doesn’t have a little voice in their head that goes “you blockhead” every now and then when you do something shameful? Heck, when it gets really bad, you’ll even hear people even verbalize it. You see it in movies all the time.

I would argue however that all 3 behaviors are always abusive, full-stop.

You can see this with a swap test.

Let’s say you had an acquaintance that had some irritating behavior. Maybe they are always late to events or unprepared? If every time they exhibited this behavior, you went and slapped them just hard enough to cause a sting but not hard enough to actually hurt, does that seem okay? What if you did a few times in a row and this acquaintance ceased the behavior? Did that make it any better?

I’m guessing most people will say “no it’s not okay, and the fact that you got what you want is almost worse cause it makes the slapping look effective.”

Let let’s swap yourself into that position. You’re late or unprepared for events. In shame you hit yourself as some kind of punishment. Does that seem okay? What if next time you remember the pain and aren’t late/unprepared. Does that seem better?

How about if you replace the hitting with a vocalized self-berating monologue? How about an internal one? Did it differ from when the target was another person?

Here’s the scary bit for me: when my therapist first make me go through this exercise, I realized that when I put myself as the target of the behavior, my gut reaction was “As long as it’s a manageable amount of pain, that’s fine. You’re just teaching yourself a lesson and the results justify the means. You’ve done this so long and it’s served you well.”

Repeat after me: just because it’s effective, doesn’t mean it isn’t abuse.

Also: just because it’s effective, doesn’t mean there aren’t kinder methods.

Abusive behavior and when it becomes a problem

It’s important to make a clear distinction between the use of abusive behavior and the labeling of a person as an abuser (self or otherwise).

Everyone is going to yell at themselves (and someone else) at some point. Just doing it doesn’t automatically make you into an abuser. The frequency, intensity, and power dynamic matter a lot.

For me, the internal self-berating monologue is very harsh and nearly incessant. If I’m alone (say in a car or walking down an empty street), it gets vocalized. The actual physical pain inflicting, on flare ups (probably ever couple of days) can clock in at an urge every minute (it is only acted on when people are not watching). That is too often and too intense.

Also, since I am the target of my own judgement, the power-dynamic is completely whacked. It is intrinsically hard to stand up to myself or to say things like “you are over-focused on this event…remember these other things.” If I have an abusing half and and abused half, the abused half is clearly in the weaker posture.

Worse, there are times when I engage in this behavior as punishment for “committing a wrong” rather than with a target of a specific behavior change. In an odd sort of catharsis, the act of self-abuse make me feel less guilt thereby salving a duller (possibly stronger) chronic pain with an sharp acute pain.

All this makes me label myself as a self-abuser.

How did I accept that this was a problem?

It took me about a decade of therapy to realize accept this. I did everything to resist the label. “It’s not a problem.” “Everyone does this sometimes.” “Look where it’s gotten me in life.” “I can handle it.” “It doesn’t do any permanent damage.” “I still have my stuff together.” “I only do it when it’s necessary…I just want to learn to do it when it’s not.”

So many arguments. All of them, unfortunately, partially valid.

What finally convinced me that this wasn’t acceptable behavior was actually applying the swap-test to the behavior.

I am the type of person that prioritizes keeping others around them from being hurt. If I see someone being marginalized, talked over, or devalued, will attempt to step in an intercede. Often this is done one-on-one both with the person doing the marginalizing or the person being marginalized. If the behavior is severe enough to become abusive in the moment (say someone is yelling at another) I will insert myself into the conflict. You can be certain that if I saw one person hit another, I would be out of my chair and between them. In all these situations, I am NOT okay with behavior that may hurt another person.

Yet, when I apply that behavior to myself, I am okay with it. The swap test made me realize I am doing the things that so horrify me when I see it in others. I’m just unconsciously okay with it “because the target (me) wants it.”

THAT IS NOT OKAY THINKING.

Think of an abusive partner in a marriage using that argument for beating their spouse. “They want it” and “it’s for their own good.” Fuck. No.

Once I realized this is what I was implicitly saying, I realized that I was actually an abuser of myself.

What “made it okay” when you were the target?

This is a hard question. I don’t know. My realization of self-abuse is still newish and I’m exploring it.

I think it has to do with an inability to value my feelings and my experience of pain. Somehow, it’s okay for me to hurt myself (just enough) because it “makes me better.” However, I would never EVER willingly subject another person to my internal monologue or to the physical pain inflicting behaviors. It’s too painful.

Dissecting the above paragraph, it says the following. By my own judgement I say:

• my internal monologue causes large distress and pain
• the pain is enough that I don’t believe most people can handle it
• I’m okay with enduring it though myself though
• the self-abuse has some positive influence on my behaviors in life

From this (and the fact that I am no longer a wreck that can’t get out of bed in the morning) I conclude that some of the following must be true:

• I have developed a high stamina for emotional pain (“high distress tolerance”)
• I don’t value my own well being as much as I value the well being of others
• I am so habituated to the pain I cause myself that I don’t notice it consciously anymore
• I recognize and want some of the behavior changes that come out of the self-abuse

All this contributes to why I feel like it’s okay to treat myself poorly.

Also, because no one else has to see it, and because you think you are in control of the behavior (“I can stop anytime I want”) it’s easy to not challenge mistreating yourself.

If it’s worked so far, why change it? What’s the problem?

There are a few reasons for me to change this behavior. In the background, there is a based on a moralistic “you should love your self” and “self-abuse is bad” judgement but I find that a weak motivator at best.

The problem with self-abuse is that it’s leaky behavior with collateral damage.

First, it’s socially unacceptable therefore the application of it carries a shame response. In the best case, dealing with that shame just uses extra energy that could be better put elsewhere. Where I am, when things get stressful, the extra shame can become debilitating sometimes inhibiting my ability to function at work.

Next, I am so practiced at this pattern of self-abuse that I’ve accidentally learned to use it to numb out other strong emotions. Now it’s not just a behavior change mechanism, it’s a pain control mechanism. When things are going okay in life, all these behaviors stay are unpleasant but manageable. When I hit a rough patch though, the extra shame can itself cause a need to employ more self-abuse to control it putting me into a tail-spin. This makes me less able to regulate my displayed actions causing more social anxiety which yields more self-abuse, etc. I’ve had this happen more frequently as life has gotten increasingly stressful, to the point that the cons of self-abuse are heavily outweighing the pros. In effect, the self-abuse has “leaked” into parts of my life where it causes mostly harm.

Also, the self-abusive behavior has a tendency to block emotional processing. I keep accumulating memories that I feel like punishing myself for over life. It’s to the point that something around me (a particular street sign, a conversation, who knows) will trigger a pain response multiple times and hour. Though I have grown numb to it, I am actually in constant pain.

Lastly, and most critically though is the realization that I may accidentally pass this behavior on to my children. As stated previously, I would never be okay inflicting this sort of pain on to another human. My kids qualify as another human and unlike most other people, they actually osmose my emotion regulation skills from me. This particular realization scares me the most.

Those 4 points above are strong enough motivators to make me want to give up self-abuse.

The goal isn’t to end self-abuse: it’s just to minimize it

At this point in my life, I’ve realized that I have over-relied on punishment (via self-abuse) as a method of behavior change such that it has more negative effects on my function than positive ones.

My goal now is not to excise it. This behavior is a part of me and though I can minimize its application, it’s unlikely that I could ever eliminate it. Even if I could, seeking to eliminate it as a focus would probably trigger use of self-abuse when I notice myself applying self-abuse. It’s better to come at it side ways and learn alternate methods of behavior and emotion regulation which can be employed. They won’t be as effective at first…but I’ve seen people with healthier responses in life. I want to learn how to do that.

How are you picking up new skills?

I go see a therapist. Therapists are the mental equivalent of personal trainers. They are trained to provide different methods for practice that they can introduce to you.

Through my therapist, I’ve been introduced to a lot of concepts. John Gottman’s books on relationships are a wonderful starting point (you just need to imagine your partner is yourself, not your spouse). “How to Raise an Emotionally Intelligent Child” is a particular favorite.

I’ve also read through some behaviorism books such as “Don’t shoot the dog” by Karen Pryor. Yes, it’s a dog training book. But it also gives a great overview of behavioral approaches and gives a framework for thinking through pros/cons of behavior management techniques.

I’ve done bits of Cognitive Behavior Therapy and Dialectal Behavior Therapy. The second in particular has been very informative (concepts of Wise Mind, Mindfulness, Distress Tolerance, Emotion Regulation, etc).

The goal through all this is two fold. The first is to build up more words for concepts so you can increase self-awareness of the mechanisms going through your own head. The second is to provide a playbook of alternate techniques that one can practice.

I’ve been working on these things for a decade now. Somewhere in the past year though (after realizing my behavior was self-abusive) I hit an inflection point and a lot of things clicked into place. Now I can apply alternate techniques successfully maybe ~30-40% of the time.

I am hearted by this result because I actually remember when I first consciously applied an internal self-berating monologue to change my behavior. That was in 2nd grade which means I’ve had decades practicing self-abusive behavior change. That I can get to displacing such a practiced technique ~30–40% of the time with one 1–2 years of work tells me these kinder techniques are actually acquirable.

Parting Thoughts with a Star Wars reference

The insidious thing about self-abuse is that, for those of us who have somehow learned to manage the negative effects, it can be very effective. It also preys on an internal lack of self-worth…you feel tough because you can bear the pain, but you also feel like your own suffering isn’t worth addressing.

I think this is why some of the more “successful” people in the world develop a “you’re either tough enough or you’re not” attitude.

It’s not the only path to success though. I’ve had the luxury of working at a large company (Google) where there were many very very successful people, some of whom have literally changed the world. Most of them have kinder ways of approaching behavior change and you see it embedded in the older bits of the company culture. Seeing this give me a counter-example to the “you’re either tough enough or you’re not” mantra.

Self-abuse is like the dark side. It works. It might even feel good to use. But it has a cost both to your own well being and the well being of those around you. Allowed to run out of control, it can be very destructive. You only think it’s okay because there’s some bias against yourself that makes it seem okay to cause yourself pain.

There are kinder methods to change your behavior (or control emotional pain) that can be just as effective. But if you grew up without exposure to these methods, then without active seeking, you won’t find them. Even when you do, you will be decades more practiced at self-abuse…but the rewards of learning the kinder methods can be huge. At the very least, you will be in less pain.

(…next topic…probably either “achievement addiction” or more about being “emotionally unhealthy but functioning well“)