Most people have some negative self-story lurking in the shadows of their consciousness, something they believe or fear is true about themselves—something bad. Usually, these negative self-stories start in childhood, when we were told this or that about ourselves by a parent, religion, coach, or some other trusted “caretaker.” It might be that you’re lazy, selfish, unlovable, or just plain bad, with a wicked nature.
We can also form these self-stories through negative experiences out of which we construct meaning, which then gets carried forward as firmly held beliefs (this happened to me and, therefore, I am that).
If, for example, you didn’t get invited to the popular kids’ parties when you were young, you then decide you don’t fit in and are uncool and unlikable, which may not be something you tell yourself explicitly, but it’s there in the shadows of your mind, as a wallpaper belief. Or perhaps you were small and short, the last one picked for sports teams, or bullied in some other way—your self-story then might be that you’re fragile, a wimp, or not a real “man.” Or maybe it’s that you’re irritating and to blame for inspiring rejection and anger in others.
The point is: The meaning you generate from painful experiences establishes a negative narrative about who and how you are.
Constant Reinforcement
What makes this negative self-story so sticky and difficult to change and extricate yourself from is that it’s constantly being reinforced and validated. Once the story on you is written, the brain then goes looking for evidence to confirm and strengthen it.
If, for example, your self-story is that you’re lazy and unwilling to do hard work and finish projects, when a situation arises when you demonstrate the complete opposite version of yourself—in this case, when you are proactive, hard-working, and disciplined—your brain will nonetheless go looking for and fixate on anything it can use to prove and stick with its story on you. No matter how you behave, you’re still lazy. In fact, the mind will overlook mountains and oceans to find itself an ant hill that can be shaped into the negative form it wants to create.
The mind is a heat-seeking missile, programmed to hone in on the tiniest scraps of evidence, whatever can be used to show that you are indeed that bad character your narrative says you are. And, because your brain is constantly being fed and feeding itself new evidence from every new situation, it’s hard to shift these negative self-stories. What gets perpetually overlooked is who you are now that could change that old story—someone who’s perhaps evolved into something different or maybe never was that character you wrote for yourself in your story.
When we get caught in thought loops, it’s often because our thoughts are fighting with each other, trying to do two opposing things at once, with neither side being willing to give up their rightness. On the one hand, our thoughts are trying to prove our badness using their newly acquired (carefully sought-out) evidence. On the other hand, our thoughts are coming fast and furious in defense of ourselves, to say “No, I wasn’t and am not that,” warring against the part of ourselves that always wants to confirm our badness and this well-crafted self-story.
Essentially, we are in a court of law inside our own mind, a court of one, and, paradoxically, we are in the role of both prosecutor and defendant. We’re going to lose the case one way or another, but what’s certain is that we are going to suffer in the trial.
Sometimes, we assign our negative self-story to someone else; our thought loops then try to undo the story we’ve decided someone else has written about us. We go over and over what they think about us, which, often, we’ve invented. We then script and rehearse the words we should have said or will say to convince them and ourselves we are not that bad thing (we think) they think we are. Whether or not they genuinely think that about us is irrelevant; we continue arguing the case that it’s not fair and not who we are…and these are all the reasons why.
Unsticking From Negative Thought Loops
When we’re trying to unstick from negative thought loops, what’s most important is to identify the “original sin,” the root crime or character flaw for which we think we’re guilty, the accusation we’re arguing the case for and against, proving and disproving, confirming and denying—about ourselves. We might simply be proving that we’re bad, rotten at the core, filled with unkind and self-serving intentions, and fundamentally not to be trusted. Regardless, we must bring the self-story into the light so that we can investigate and unravel our belief in its veracity.
Once you’re clear on the narrative you’re proving about yourself, the next step is to investigate how and why that story formed, what the circumstances were that led to it, and your intentions in those experiences. But, most of all, it’s important to offer yourself a big dose of self-compassion—for how painful the original situation was, what you were told about yourself and how unkind and unfair it was, what you lived through that became this negative story, and, finally, what it’s been like to live with (and at the receiving end of) this self-narrative.
Again, do this from your own side, not as the prosecutor or the defendant, just as you, the one in the middle of the mess. Furthermore, think about what that younger version of you in that difficult situation might have benefited from hearing; what else was true about you, who you were, or your intentions then? Finally, what could you tell yourself now that would feel helpful and give you a chance to create a different self-story?
To unstick from your stickiest negative thought loops and pull yourself out of the rabbit hole that can feel so inescapable, start by just saying “No” to the guilty-or-innocent fight going on in your mind; surrender your job as prosecutor and defense attorney in the case against yourself. Shine a light on your own mind—with compassion; become aware of the trial going on inside you, the self-judgment you’re trying to both establish and refute.
The question can then shift to something more interesting, forward-moving, and fresh—namely, who and how do you want to be right now, and who could and would you be if you were to stop constantly trying to convict yourself for some past crime or character flaw?
