Psychotherapy with Dr. Sherine El-Husseini

One of the most challenging types of people I encounter in psychotherapy...
Is the highly successful person who makes a mistake lasting ten minutes...
Yet punishes themselves for the entire day.
Then, with absolute conviction, tells you:
"I’m just holding myself accountable."

You ask:

"How do you hold yourself accountable?"

They reply:

"How could I have done that?"

"You’re careless."

"You should have done better."

"After everything you’ve learned, you’re *still* making mistakes?"

"Someone else would have known how to handle it."

The strange thing is, the mistake itself might have ended hours ago...

But the punishment is still ongoing.

They replay the situation in their mind.

They think about what they *should* have said.

They recall old mistakes unrelated to the current situation.

They compare themselves to others.

And in the end, they don't arrive at a better plan...

They arrive at a verdict:

"I am the problem."

And this is where one of the toughest paradoxes of self-flagellation arises.

If you say to them:

"Why not go a little easier on yourself?"

They might refuse.

Not because they enjoy suffering.

But because they are convinced that this harshness is essential.

"If I stop blaming myself... I’ll become complacent."

"If I forgive myself... I’ll repeat the mistake."

"If I don't get upset with myself... it means I have no conscience."

"I’ve achieved what I have because I never let myself off the hook."

And here, the pain begins to wear the guise of responsibility.

The more you punish yourself...

The more it feels like the mistake truly matters to you.

The more you refuse to forgive yourself...

The more it feels like your conscience is alive.

And the harsher you are on yourself...

The more it feels like you are a responsible person.

Until the very act of stopping the self-flagellation becomes frightening.

Because the question isn't:

"Does this harshness hurt me?"

You *know* it hurts. The toughest question:

"If I stop being hard on myself... who will make me improve?"

Here, we need to distinguish between two things that look very similar:

Accountability asks:

What did I do?
What is my responsibility?
What do I need to fix?
And what will I do differently next time?

Judgment, on the other hand, asks:

How could I do that?
Why am I always like this?
What is wrong with me?
I’ll never change.

The first addresses behavior.

The second turns behavior into identity.

"I made a mistake."

Turns into:

"I *am* a mistake."

"I fell short."

Turns into:

"I *am* a failure."

And that whip you think is driving you forward...

...might actually be the very thing holding you back.

You make a mistake.

You lash yourself.

You dwell on the mistake endlessly.

Your energy drains.

You avoid things.

You procrastinate.

Your self-confidence wavers.

Then you look at all of this and say:

"See? I really *do* need to be harder on myself."

So you use the whip that held you back...

...to punish yourself for having been held back.

And the cycle begins all over again.

This doesn't mean:

"Oh well, don't worry about it."

Nor does it mean justifying your mistakes.

Or lowering your standards.

Or stopping yourself from being accountable.

Quite the opposite.

The question is:

Can I fix the mistake... without needing to demean myself just to prove that I care?

Can I be responsible...

...without punishing myself?

Can I have a conscience...

...without living inside a courtroom? That’s why, for me, the most important question regarding self-criticism isn't:

"How do I silence my inner critic?"

But rather:

"Why am I convinced I need it in the first place?"

I’d like to try a little experiment with you today.

After you make a mistake... what is the very first thing you say to yourself?

Not the polite phrase.

Not the phrase you’re *supposed* to say.

Write it down exactly as it pops into your head.

"I’m a failure."

"I’m careless."

"I fell short."

"I should have done better."

"I’ll never change."

"I always mess everything up."

Just write the sentence.

I’ll discuss the first 20 comments, one by one.

Not to tell you:

Whether it’s right or wrong.

But so we can think together:

What is that sentence trying to do to you?

Motivate you?

Punish you?

Stop you from repeating the mistake?

Prove you have a conscience?

Or protect you from a deeper fear?

We might discover that some of the things we call:

"I’m just holding myself accountable."

Are actually...

A punishment that lingered long after the mistake was over.