what stories are you telling yourself about your suffering?
how learning to shine light into the right spots of your psyche can transform your fatally-flawed inner narrative
As I clawed my way forward in my healing journey, I found myself in a pattern of endless consumption. Books, podcasts, YouTube videos, Instagram carousels, articles, you name it.
I shoved as much information into my brain as I could to try and unravel the root causes of why I felt so irrevocably broken and empty, and ultimately – how to (hopefully) “fix” myself.
Spoiler alert: consuming all the things doesn’t lead to some magical finish line where your fully perfected and “healed” self awaits.
I learned that part the hard way.
I did realize something pretty meaningful after absorbing an absolutely obscene amount of mental/spiritual/emotional content over the last 4-5 years, though. There comes a certain point where some core truths begin to emerge from the mountains of content™.
It turns out that my favorite existential songstress, Jewel, was onto something in her 1998 hit: what’s simple is true.
And here’s the simple truth I’ve realized after my seemingly endless consumption:
We suffer emotionally, mentally, and spiritually because of the stories we tell ourselves about what happened to us. The expression of that suffering depends on whether we externalize or internalize the stories we tell ourselves about what happened to us.
FATALLY FLAWED
We humans are born storytellers. According to narrative psychology, we understand our lives and find meaning in the form of “narratives.” These stories do more than just chronicle our past; they’re the lens through which we shape our entire identity and navigate our emotional world.
Our self-concept and emotional responses are deeply intertwined with the narratives we construct about our experiences. When these stories are self-limiting, they do nothing but reinforce self-sabotaging patterns of thinking and relating with the world, leading to a seemingly endless cycle of suffering. (I spoke extensively about this in my 3-part “Trauma-Worlds” series on the podcast, which you can check out here.)
We trick ourselves into thinking that our personal narratives are fixed and unchangeable. I did this to myself. After experiencing extreme emotional neglect throughout my childhood as well as multiple instances of sexual abuse/assault, I had subconsciously convinced myself that it was me that was the problem.
Fatally-flawed-hot-mess-Mollie was my narrative.
I told myself this fucked up story over and over and over again until it ran on a loop outside my conscious awareness, each time becoming more and more deeply engrained in my psyche. Until it felt like it became who I was.
Clearly, there was something deeply wrong with me. Otherwise, these things wouldn’t keep happening. If I didn’t contain some kind of fatal flaw, I wouldn’t continue to attract abusive people and dangerous situations, right?
Wrong.
FLIPPING THE SCRIPT
What I didn’t know (but do now) is that our stories can be changed. They can be rewritten, edited, and transformed with new chapters, characters, and serious plot twists.
This ability to gain a more flexible perspective is crucial because it empowers us to reinterpret past events and their significance. Understanding that we are not irrevocably defined by our experiences opens the door to true healing, psychological balance, and personality integration.
A narrative of trauma and continuous victimhood can be consciously reshaped into one of resilience, incredible strength, survival, and redemption.
When I believed that my abuse, trauma, and suffering defined who I was, I became trapped in a self-fulfilling prophecy of endless suffering. I was suffocating inside my own trauma-world where I was defined not by my potential, but my past pains.
MEANING-MAKING AS A WOUNDED HEALER
Major realizations hit me when I read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning.
Frankl, a psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, offers not only a harrowing account of his survival through several Nazi death camps but also a profound insight into the human capacity for resilience and meaning-making in the face of unimaginable suffering.
Frankl introduces the concept of logotherapy, a form of existential analysis that emphasizes finding personal meaning in life as the primary motivational force for humans. He argues that even in the most desperate circumstances, life holds potential meaning and that our primary drive is not pleasure (as Freud suggested) nor power (as Adler suggested), but the pursuit of what we find meaningful.
The essence of Frankl's message is encapsulated in his belief that, "When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."
This perspective was a revelation to me; if Frankl, who endured the extreme dehumanization and brutality of a Nazi death camp, could emerge with a philosophy that emphasizes the possibility of finding meaning in suffering, then it illuminated a path for me—and indeed, for any of us—to reinterpret our own sorrows.
“Those who have a 'why' to live can bear with almost any 'how.'”
― Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning
The transformative process really began for me when I decided to make meaning out of what had happened to me.
This didn’t mean denying the pain or impact of the abuse and suffering I’d endured in my life. I made a conscious choice to seek the lessons, growth, and sense of purpose in the aftermath of this trauma.
This decision to reframe my narrative to focus on how my experiences equipped me with unique insights, empathy, and strength helped me tap into a powerful source of fuel that had been inside me all along. I just hadn’t known it was there.
This fuel has not only aided in my own healing journey but has also allowed me to extend support, understanding, and compassion to others who are going through their own dark nights of the soul.
This process of transforming our narrative and finding meaning in our suffering resonates with the archetype of the wounded healer.
According to Jungian psychology, the wounded healer refers to someone who has experienced suffering and, through their own wounds, becomes a source of healing for others. The archetype underscores the idea that our deepest wounds can become our greatest source of strength.
By navigating through my own darkness, I’ve developed the hard-earned empathy, wisdom, and resilience required to help guide others through their pain. I accepted and surrendered to the fact that I could not change what happened to me. This was not a denial or repression of my past but a reclamation as the author of a powerful new chapter of my own story.
OUT OF THE SHADOWS
I’ve explained pretty well why I believe that we suffer emotionally, mentally, and spiritually because of the stories we tell ourselves about what happened to us. I hope by now you’re ready to start writing your next thrilling chapter. But wait - not so fast.
What about the second piece of my a-ha moment-of-realization after endless amounts of reading and research?
This part: The expression of our suffering depends on whether we externalize or internalize the stories we tell ourselves about what happened to us.
The biomedical model of mental health tends to diagnose us with various disorder or dysfunctional labels based upon how we express our suffering. A diagnosis is offered based upon the observation of these “symptoms.”
Those who are long-term listeners of the podcast know how I feel about our diagnosis-obsessed mental health system. I’ve spoken about this at length in episodes like this one. No need for me to wax poetic about that here – that’d be a whole other post entirely.
Once I understood I had the power to change the tone and narrative of the story of my past, I recognized that I needed to become conscious of the way I expressed my suffering.
My lack of consciousness around this meant that even though I had heightened levels of self-awareness, I continued to fall into the same old self-sabotaging cycles and emotional triggers. To change this, I’d have to confront my shadow.
The shadow represents the repressed, denied, or ignored parts of ourselves. These can be negative qualities, such as anger or jealousy, but also positive traits we haven't acknowledged.
Self-sabotaging behaviors and emotional triggers often arise from this shadowy realm of our psyche because they are rooted in unresolved issues, past traumas, or learned patterns that we have not yet brought into conscious awareness.
Self-sabotaging behaviors—like procrastination, self-doubt, or engaging in toxic relationships—serve as defenses against confronting deeper, painful aspects of our psyche.
Similarly, emotional triggers can abruptly bring us face-to-face with shadow elements, causing intense emotional reactions that seem disproportionate to the triggering event but are deeply rooted in past experiences.
Depth psychology suggests that these patterns remain cyclical and persistent because they operate from the unconscious. Without conscious recognition and integration of these shadow aspects, we remain bound to repeat them, as they are mechanisms the psyche uses to attempt to resolve internal conflicts or protect the ego.
And round and round it goes. This was certainly the case in my own life.
Becoming conscious of our emotional and behavioral patterns is akin to shining a light on the shadow. This process involves acknowledging and accepting these hidden parts of ourselves, understanding their origins, and recognizing their influence on our lives. Depth psychology posits that by integrating our shadow aspects, we can begin to heal and move toward a more whole and balanced self.
EXTERNALIZING VS. INTERNALIZING
It’s likely that you express your own suffering in one of two ways: You either internalize it or you externalize it.
Thomas Lynch's concepts of “emotional overcontrol” and “emotional undercontrol" provide a nuanced framework for understanding these methods of expression.
If you’re more emotionally overcontrolled, you likely internalize your distress. This means you likely suffer from anxiety, depression, or other somatic symptoms (hence the term ‘dis-ease.’) This ‘silent suffering’ is socially acceptable, yet it’s profoundly painful because it is invisible to the external world.
On the flip side, emotionally undercontrolled individuals externalize their suffering, projecting their distress outward through aggression, defiance, substance abuse, or other “behavioral issues.” These more visible expressions of distress are stigmatized in our (emotionally constipated) culture, leading to societal misunderstanding, scapegoating, and alienation, as they pose a perceived threat to the productivity and conformity valued by our societal systems.
If you struggle with emotional undercontrol, it’s likely that your suffering has been found to be “inconvenient.” This externalization of distress challenges the status quo, leading to more frequent labels of disorder or dysfunction, implying the “problem” lies within the individual, rather than oppressive or abusive systems.
While those who externalize their suffering are being scapegoated and stigmatized, those who lean towards internalizing their distress are often overlooked by mental health services due to being considered “too high-functioning,” trapping them in a cycle of unacknowledged suffering.
The socially acceptable nature of suffering in silence versus the socially unacceptable nature of externalizing suffering mirrors the "canary in the coal mine" analogy. Those who externalize their distress signal systemic issues that need addressing, yet they are often silenced or marginalized. Conversely, the silent suffering of the emotionally overcontrolled is tacitly endorsed by society, maintaining the illusion of a functioning system.
I believe the way we express our suffering can shift and change throughout the phases of our lives; I’ve certainly found that to be the case for me.
When I discovered these concepts, I realized that I began my life as a deeply emotionally undercontrolled child and adolescent. I externalized the hell out of my distress. I acted out. I fought back.
I recognized quickly that this behavior was unacceptable when I experienced severe “clapback” in my abusive family system, found myself hospitalized after a particularly dangerous night of binge-drinking, and experienced my second instance of sexual assault.
My tendency towards externalization morphed into extreme masking behaviors, perfectionism, and people-pleasing as I entered my late adolescence, all the way through my 20s. I channeled my self-hatred and self-sabotage into more socially acceptable behaviors like casual sex, binge-drinking (because that’s what college kids do, right?), modifying my body and appearance, posting hundreds of overly-edited selfies, and overworking myself into the ground. On the outside, I looked like any other (albeit a bit wild and puffy-lipped) 20-something. On the inside, I was dead inside and struggling to grasp onto the will to live.
In both eras of my life – the externalizing and the internalizing – I was completely unconscious of my own behaviors and complexes. Life happened to me. I was not the author of my own story. Waking up to this was like being snapped out of a nightmare. I promised myself I’d never fall asleep at the wheel of my own life again.
TYING IT ALL TOGETHER
Our emotional, mental, and spiritual suffering is intricately linked to the narratives we construct about our experiences. Whether we internalize or externalize these narratives significantly impacts how we navigate our suffering. This not only affects our personal healing journey but also reflects broader societal attitudes toward mental health and emotional expression.
By understanding and addressing the stories we tell ourselves, we can begin to challenge both the internal and external factors that shape our suffering. This process opens pathways to healing that acknowledge the full complexity of this messy human experience, advocating for a society that recognizes and empathizes with the visibility of suffering as much as it does its silent endurance.
“I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become.”
This quote has often been attributed to Carl Jung. He actually never said that. What he actually said was this:
“It is not I who create myself, rather I happen to myself.”
So, I’ll finish by asking you:
How will you choose to happen to yourself from this day forward?
Fatally-flawed-hot-mess didn’t have to be the end of my story. I wouldn’t let that be the end of my story. It doesn’t have to be the end of yours, either.
and now, for the links for my paid readers.
I've curated some additional links and resources specifically for my paid Substack subscribers. These materials are designed to help you dive deeper into the topics we've discussed in the post and offer practical ways to integrate these insights into your real life.
In this post, the links will include further exploration of the following concepts:
✧ Emotional overcontrol & undecontrol (and how to tell which you align with)
✧ Narrative therapy techniques to help you take control of your own life story
✧ Inspiring words from Viktor Frankl and other depth psychologists about meaning-making
✧ Understanding the Wounded Healer archetype
✧ The negative aspects of “high-functioning” mental distress
✧ The shadow / shadow projections
Un-paid readers won’t see anything below this point. If you’d like to unlock these additional resources, consider upgrading your subscription for just $5/month.
deep dive on changing your narrative and understanding internalization vs. externalization (and other topics)
Now that it’s just you and me, here’s the additional goodies. Save a few of the freebies that sound interesting and listen to them throughout the month until the next post. Paid resources are marked with a ($).
✧ Introduction to Overcontrol & Radical Openness by Professor Thomas Lynch
✧ My interview with Dr. Anita Federici about Emotional Overcontrol vs. Undercontrol
✧ Understanding Overcontrolled Coping with Dr. Jennifer May
✧ "Diagnosis Culture": Technology and mental health w/ Joanna Moncrieff
✧ Anger Rooted in Yesterday's Rage: (Childhood Emotional Neglect and Attachment Trauma) [for externalizers and internalizers]
✧ Adolescent Intersections: Externalizing Disorders, Developmental Trauma, and Substance Use
✧ Viktor Frankl on why Self-Actualization is not the goal
✧ Viktor Frankl: Why Meaning Matters
✧ Finding Something to Live and Die For | The Philosophy of Viktor Frankl
✧ Carl Jung - Individuation As A Mystical Source Of Meaning
✧ Carl Jung - The Power of Knowing Your Dark Side (Written by Eternalised)
✧ Psychiatrist on Jung's shadow of the unconscious mind | Paul Conti and Lex Fridman
✧ Christine Downing - Only the Wounded Healer Heals
✧ Dr. Gabor Maté speaks about The Wounded Healer
✧ How to recognize perfectly hidden depression | Margaret Rutherford | TEDxBocaRaton
Hi Mollie, much thanks for this article and for your podcast. Me: 62 yo father of 2, retired CPA/software & distribution exec. My journey has been a bit like yours. I alternate between internalized workaholism and occasional externalized dysfunction. Read hundreds of books over the last 20 years.. Unquestionably my two go-to, dog-eared, well-worn favorites are Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning and Daniel N. Robinson's An Intellectual History of Psychology, especially the latter's 1986 edition from University of Wisconsin Press (before Robinson got Ivy-league edited). The main idea from Robinson is that two of the most pervasive confusions of the Western world are: (a.) mind is brain, and (b.) behavior is conditioned. Anyway, both works have meant the world to me. As does your podcast, which gets better every edition. All the best my friend
Love, love, LOVE this! There's so much to chew on, but the nature of meaning and how we create/observe/massage it reminds me of something my Vedic astrologer teacher said about dharma - dharma is how we create meaning out of our experience. Dharma, in our Calvinist, Capitalist culture, gets relegated to one's career, but it's more accurate to say it's our quiddity, our is-ness, the essential nature of ourselves that may or may not have anything to do with how we pay the bills. How we craft a story, how we craft a meaning from a lifetime of experience helps define, or perhaps better, reveal our essential nature. Thanks for this post!