They say that inside every fat person there's a thin person fighting to get out. In Suzie's case, the thin person appeared
to be losing the struggle. At 5'4" Suzie felt she ought to be 130 lbs,
but was actually closer to 160.
Just about to turn 20, Suzie looked older. She had deep eyes and
smooth chestnut hair beneath her floppy leghorn hat, and wore a silk
print dress with an enormous string of crystal beads. She had a
lively manner and was ready to laugh, but seemed imprisoned by her
excess fat. She was disheartened. "I've tried dozens of diets over the
last five years, and I work out four times a week, but I can't seem to
lose weight consistently, and I'm heavier now than I was a year ago."
When Suzie told me her exercise regimen, I felt exhausted just
listening to it. She was at the gym never less than four evenings a
week; for the first 30 minutes she vigorously pedaled an exercise
bike, followed by an even more demanding 60-minute aerobics class.
Yet she remained overweight.
The Solution to Suzie's Puzzle
Suzie was sincerely mystified as to why she "could not" manage to
reduce. On one level, the answer was obvious: She was absorbing enough
excess calories to outweigh the effects of her exercise. Suzie
immediately confirmed that she often yielded to impulsive temptations
to drink too much alcohol and to snack on high-calorie foods. So the
real puzzle was: How can someone with the drive and determination to
stick to a grueling exercise program fail to control her eating and
drinking habits? The answer is that addictions arise from addictive
thinking.
On her first visit I gave Suzie a personality questionnaire,
which confirmed my immediate guess. The test involved circling one of
the three words "OFTEN," "SOMETIMES," or "SELDOM" after each of 50
statements. Suzie indicated "OFTEN" for these statements:
- I feel upset when things proceed slowly and can't be settled quickly
- I feel upset about life's inconveniences or frustrations
- I feel quite angry when someone keeps me waiting
- I feel very sorry for myself when things are rough
- I feel unable to persist at things I start, especially when the going
gets hard
- I feel unexcited and bored about most things
Low Frustration Tolerance
Suzie was suffering from Low Frustration Tolerance, a very common type
of "musty" thinking, which lies at the root of the great majority of
overeating problems and other addictions.
Low Frustration Tolerance arises from the third "must," the belief
that life MUST be fair, easy, well-ordered, comfortable, exciting,
pleasurable, interesting, or hassle-free. In any situation where life
does not conform to such demands, the addict compulsively looks for a
quick escape from these "unbearable" circumstances.
Suzie told me more about her problems. She was moody and often
depressed about weight, friends, and boyfriends. She had broken up
with Sammy a year earlier, but continued to see him off and on. (She
had a demand about this situation: "I MUST know for sure if it's on or
off with Sammy.")
The Power Of Negative Thinking
A specific technique has often been found effective in undermining Low
Frustration Tolerance and thereby curing addictive thinking. This
method is to maintain a clear and constant awareness of the
disadvantages of any particular behavior or outlook. I explained the
idea to Suzie:
"Whenever you do anything that is under your voluntary control, even
getting out of bed in the morning, all the way to getting into bed at
night, you make the decision to do it. And every decision largely
consists of a weighing of benefits against costs, or advantages
against disadvantages.
"When you get up in the morning, you're demonstrating that at that
moment you believe the advantages of arising outweigh the
disadvantages (skipping breakfast, rushing to work, arriving late, and
so on). If you had decided that the disadvantages of getting out of
bed were greater, then you would have stayed in bed. This
process--often operating semiautomatically--repeats itself throughout
the day in making large and small decisions.
"It's exactly the same with your eating or overeating. Whenever you
choose to eat pizza, or any other high fat food, it's because you've
decided, for the moment, that the advantages of doing so outweigh the
disadvantages. Just before making such a decision, you might be
thinking something like: 'This pizza is fattening (disadvantage 1),
but it tastes so delicious (advantage 1), I'll feel so good (advantage
2), I HAVE TO have it (advantage 3), and I won't really gain weight
because I'll diet later (discounting disadvantage 1).'
"If you can convince yourself that the calculation is reasonable and
that the advantages outweigh the disadvantages, you will indulge. If
we can get you to realize, strongly and clearly in such situations,
that the disadvantages outweigh the advantages, then you will reject
the pizza."
Harnessing the Power
How did I get Suzie to remain convinced, at the moment of temptation,
that the disadvantages outweighed the advantages? Practice,
repetition, and reinforcement. Here are some of the most effective
techniques:
- List the disadvantages. I asked Suzie to make a detailed and
extensive list of the disadvantages of eating pizza. She came up with
over 30 items, including:
- It's fattening
- I feel guilty afterwards
- I could spend the money on something else
- I'm more likely to become depressed
- I'll be less healthy
- It adds to my difficulty fitting into clothes
The longer the list, the more powerful the technique, even if some
items are repetitive. (Suzie wrote: "I'll be less healthy," "It will
raise my cholesterol level," and "I'll be more susceptible to some
diseases.")
- Vividly read through the disadvantages. I advised Suzie to read
through the list of disadvantages every day, and to spend some time
dwelling on each item at its worst. For "It's fattening," she would
picture herself eating while getting fatter and fatter until she
became hugely obese, then getting fatter still, and becoming
increasingly uncomfortable because of her extra weight.
- Practice imagining the disadvantages. Next, I asked Suzie to adopt
the habit of vividly reminding herself of the disadvantages of
compulsive eating, in situations where it was impracticable to refer
to the list. When driving, while preparing or eating dinner, when
walking down the street, waiting in line or on hold, she would vividly
picture one of the disadvantages of pigging out.
Suzie liked to listen to music tapes while driving. We decided that
when she first got into the car, she would spend a few minutes vividly
imagining some of the disadvantages of overeating, before she allowed
herself to put on a tape.
- Referenting. I also explained to Suzie the principle of
"referenting." Whenever she thought of junk food, either
spontaneously or in response to some external stimulus such as seeing
an advertisement or the aroma of food, then she would immediately
concentrate on some of the disadvantages on her list.
The first day Suzie began to use referenting, she was walking past a
pizza parlor and looked in at the pizzas. She started to think about
the tasty and pleasurable aspects of pizza, but quickly noticed the
way her thoughts were going, and deliberately reminded herself:
"Fattening . . . unhealthy . . . feeling regret afterwards . . . I won't
look good . . . won't fit into my clothes . . ."
Consistent use of referenting caused Suzie to have a heightened and
more immediate awareness of the disadvantages of overeating, so that
the temptation to pig out became easier to overcome.
Meanwhile, Suzie employed Three Minute Exercises to challenge and
topple her "musts." Some of these "musts" were:
- The pounds MUST come off quickly
- Life SHOULD be more fun
- I MUST be thinner, or else I'm less of a person
- If I start to feel bored or dissatisfied, I MUST feel better right
away
Suzie began to control her eating better, to feel better, and to drink
less.
Suzie's Setback
I was surprised and curious when Suzie arrived for her fourth session
with a down-in-the-dumps air about her.
"Gee, I really blew it," she announced, as she flopped down into the
chair dejectedly.
"In what way?"
"Well, let's see. I left here on Thursday night, went straight home,
and watched some TV. All I had was an apple, a cup of decaf, and some
popcorn. Oh yeah, some skim milk in the decaf, and that's it."
"Any butter, oil, or cheese on that popcorn?"
"No, I just got a hot air popper. All I put on was a pinch of salt."
"Okay. Great."
"Then Friday and Saturday went okay. Saturday, I went to a club with
Sammy, but I didn't have any beer or wine. Sunday, I had coffee with
toast and a grapefruit, and tuna salad for dinner."
"Sounds like an excellent week diet-wise, so far."
"Yeah, I thought I was in control. But I don't know what happened on
Monday night. I was feeling kind of crummy about work. I went out
for lunch and had a salad bar. But I started thinking about the
cherry pie on display, and I was feeling very low and thought I'd have
just a little pie to feel better. So I got one slice."
"Uh-oh," I said, with a tone of mock dismay.
"Well, when I slipped up like this the time before, I just reminded
myself, as you told me: 'So I had a setback. Too bad! That's to be
expected. I'll just get right back on track.' And I just snapped out
of it, and it was no big deal. But this time, after the cherry pie, I
was still feeling lousy, so I got another piece. So then I figured I'd
really blown it, and I had cookies throughout the afternoon until I
left work. Now I'm doing better again, I guess, but I'm still
depressed about Monday."
"It sounds as if you basically did quite okay this week, except for
that isolated cherry pie and cookies incident. But let's look a
little closer at what went on in your head. You slipped up with the
pie, which was natural.
"Yes. But the time before I recovered quickly-immediately after the
slip-up."
"Right. But what were you telling yourself this time after you
finished the first piece of cherry pie?"
"I don't know. I think I was comparing my last quick recovery to this
time."
"And was the 'must': 'I MUST recover quickly . . .'?"
"Yeah, that was it."
"So you were telling yourself: 'Last time I immediately felt
determined to get back on track, but now I'm still feeling lousy, I
haven't recovered, and therefore I'm a hopeless failure. So I'll just
be fat for the rest of my life."
"That's it! I felt I MUST recover quickly, just like the time
before."
Back On Track
I asked Suzie to write at the top of a page: "I MUST recover quickly,
as I did last time." Then, I helped her to list all the reasons why
this "must" was false. We came up with 14 of them:
- No law carved in stone states that I MUST;
- It's typically human and understandable that I would upset myself
about a setback;
- I can recover slowly;
- It's just a hassle, not a horror;
- I'm not worthless because I screw up;
- If I don't recover quickly, I can learn from my mistakes and
eventually do better at recovering;
- Recovering slowly means that success takes longer. It doesn't mean
total failure;
- One failure doesn't mean total failure, or that I'll never succeed;
- This just means I had better work harder at it next time;
- This assumes that I MUST be thin--but, although I would like to be
thin, I don't HAVE to be;
- I can stand slow recoveries, although I don't like them;
- Reality is reality, not what I think it MUST be;
- If I pressure myself to always recover quickly, that will tend to
make it more difficult to do so;
- Being an imperfect human, like all humans, I will sometimes act
imperfectly.
I gave Suzie the assignment of reading this list through thoughtfully
three times a day for a month. She found this very helpful. She
stopped putting pressure on herself to recover quickly from her
overeating lapses, and then (paradoxical though it may seem) she had
quicker recoveries and fewer relapses.
Sunday's Blues
On one visit, Suzie reported she had eaten some junk food the previous
Sunday but didn't know why. I asked her to tell me about her day.
"Sunday was a rather unstructured day, as usual. I just sat around
lazily having breakfast, looking through the paper, and chatting
aimlessly with my mom and sister. Sammy called and a friend called.
Soon it was early afternoon. It was getting too late to invite Mazie
to go to the beach or ask Cheryl to go shopping. I began to think
about work on Monday. Then I started eating."
Eating junk food was the C. After I had tracked down some of Suzie's
A's, it soon became clear what her B's were: "Sunday SHOULD be more
exciting. I SHOULD have planned my day earlier. Weekends SHOULDN'T
be so short. I MUSTN'T be bored. I SHOULDN'T have to go back to work
tomorrow."
"Yes," said Suzie. "Now I see why I ate all that junk food on Sunday."
As sometimes happens, just the insight into her demands helped her to
uproot them.
Sour Grapes
At another session, Suzie said that she overate because she didn't
really care about dieting. If she got fat, what did it matter?
This is a common reaction when people begin to notice that their
"musts" are irrational and unwarranted. They skip to the contrary
view, that what they want isn't important at all. I explained to
Suzie that telling herself "it doesn't matter" is a rationalization,
an excuse she gives herself, so that she can pursue a different
demand.
"Like what demand," asked Suzie.
"Like 'I GOTTA have the food!' " I responded.
Behind Suzie's rationalization ("I don't care about overeating-being
thin is of no importance") lay these "musts":
- I SHOULD have been born thin
- Life SHOULDN'T be so unfair
- I SHOULD be able to eat whatever I want (without any consequences I
dislike)
- Controlling my eating SHOULD be easy
Suzie did many Three Minute Exercises on her "musts." She came to
accept herself with her setbacks, to accept that resisting her
gustatory cravings was uncomfortable but bearable, and to acknowledge
that being thin was an important preference but not an absolute
demand. The pounds began to come off, and she was down to her ideal
weight within six months. Just recently, three years later, I
happened to see her again, and she was happily maintaining her ideal
weight.
More On Low Frustration Tolerance
Almost always, achieving a long-term goal entails facing immediate
discomfort. When we begin to pursue such a goal, we judge that the
outcome is well worth the cost, but then somewhere along the line we
get sidetracked. Since the cost is immediate and the benefit
distant, it's easy to give in to the impulse to escape. Later, we
regret deeply that we have failed to achieve the desired goal.
All this is perfectly natural and to be expected. If Tom keeps
putting off studying for an important test in favor of watching
movies, or if Sheila, who dreams of being a concert pianist, starts to
skip practice to talk to friends on the phone, there is no need to
introduce far-fetched "unconscious" explanations. To propose instead
that Tom really dreads becoming a doctor because he identifies that
profession with his father whom he hates without knowing it, or that
Sheila unconsciously fears the plight of a concert superstar making
millions from recordings, is fanciful in the extreme.
The universe simply isn't constructed in such a way that working
toward an important objective is bound to be intrinsically delightful.
The principle that applies in most arenas of life is the rule familiar
to athletes and sports trainers: No pain, no gain!
Schools Teach Addictive Thinking
Unfortunately, our culture reinforces the opposite, and potentially
disastrous viewpoint. Fashionable discussion of education policy, for
example, sometimes implies that learning ought to be sheer effortless
enjoyment at every moment. Certainly, a skillful teacher will try to
make the subject matter attractive and will know how to stimulate the
students' interest, but nothing worthwhile can ever be pure
fun--certainly not science, math, English, foreign languages, music,
engineering, economics, history, or philosophy. Effective learning
cannot be immediately pleasurable at every stage; success requires
that students apply themselves and work hard, especially when it
hurts.
The worst-hit victims of the "learning is fun" theory are often those
from poor or disadvantaged backgrounds, because they are less likely
to pick up the habits of discipline and application at home, which
many middle-class students already bring to school with them.
Not only does the "learning is fun" fallacy tend to destroy scholastic
achievement, it may reinforce Low Frustration Tolerance in every other
area of life, and hence encourage addictions. School administrators
who seek to remedy poor scholastic performance by making students feel
good (instead of fostering self-discipline and rigorous academic
standards) may indirectly be stimulating their students' interest in
taking drugs.
By contrast, our children would benefit from being shown role models
who forge ahead in boring, unexciting, uncomfortable conditions, to
reach a valuable goal. It would be best to tell our children: "Life
consists of one hassle after another, but you can cope, and you can
derive deep satisfaction from overcoming those hassles. To accomplish
anything worthwhile is going to be hard, tedious, and unpleasant at
times, but you can do it. Only babies demand that every minute be
free of discomfort or frustration; grown-ups tolerate frustration and
realistically endure it as an inherent aspect of life."
Getting Burned Up About Frustrations
Jon came to me just after he learned that his mother had lung cancer.
He was 33, very upset about his mother, and even more worried about
himself. Short, with distinguished-looking silver-grey hair and an
attractive tan, he radiated businesslike self-confidence and in fact
had an MBA and a CPA.
Beneath this dazzling exterior, Jon's stress, insomnia, and obsessive
behavior were some of the issues that had intially brought him to
therapy. He reported that he had difficulty relaxing, that he took
his co-workers' opinions of himself too seriously, and that he felt
guilty about missing deadlines at work. We had worked on these
problems successfully using Three Minute Exercises, and had saved Jon's
addiction to cigarette smoking for last.
Jon had started smoking when he joined a college fraternity.
"Everyone else was smoking so it seemed like the thing to do." He had
quit for five months in business school when he was dating a fellow
student who objected to cigarettes. He later quit again for several
months when he started with a firm of business analysts.
I asked Jon why he now smoked.
"I just can't stop. I've tried several times, and I've never been
able to stay off for long."
"All that proves is that you haven't yet stopped smoking. It does not
prove that you will not stop in the future."
"But surely the fact that I'm still smoking, after all my attempts to
stop, proves that I can't stop."
"What it shows is that in the past you have found it very difficult to
stop. But past failures don't prove future failure. Some of the
great successes of history, like the invention of the electric light
bulb, came after years of repeated failure."
Cooling The Turkey
After persuading Jon that he might well stop smoking despite his past
failures, I discussed the mechanics of quitting. The two most common
strategies are cold turkey or tapering off. Most successful quitters
have found the abrupt abandonment of the habit has worked, but
gradually cutting back on the number of smokes a day seems more
feasible to a substantial minority.
Jon preferred this more graduated approach. The first step is to keep
an accurate running tally of all cigarettes smoked. Jon stashed a
small pencil and piece of paper in his cigarette pack. Immediately
before lighting up, he would mark the corresponding day on the paper.
At the end of the week he could see at a glance how many he had smoked
each day and for the whole week. We could then set up goals for the
coming days and weeks, gradually tapering to zero.
During the first week of self-monitoring, Jon averaged two and a half
packs a day, though by the end of the week he was down to a little
over two packs. He achieved this by prohibiting himself from smoking
during certain activities or in certain places. For example, he
stopped smoking in his house, and stepped outside to have a cigarette.
Jon also found that merely practicing self-monitoring led him to cut
back, a common result of this practice.
Jon's Three Minute Exercise
While he was tapering off, Jon did regular Three Minute Exercises on
his Low Frustration Tolerance. Here is one:
- (Activating event): I'm in my car, driving home from work. It was
a rough day, and I'm stuck in traffic. I'm feeling stressed and I've
a strong urge to unwind with a cigarette. Since I'm trying to cut
down, I don't light up. Deprived of the cigarette, I'm now feeling
even worse.
- (irrational Beliefs): I MUST have a cigarette because I strongly
want one. I CANNOT STAND the frustration of being so deprived. The
discomfort is HORRIBLE.
- (emotional Consequences): Agitation.
- (Disputing): Why MUST I have a cigarette, just because I strongly
want one? Where is it carved in granite that I CANNOT STAND the
frustration of being so deprived? What's the evidence the discomfort
is HORRIBLE?
- (Effective new thinking): No law of the universe says I MUST have a
cigarette, even though I strongly want one. There is no evidence that
the universe has singled me out as being entitled to a cigarette. I've
always experienced frustration in my life. I always will, and no
reason exists why I SHOULD not. I CAN STAND being deprived, although I
don't like it. I am even capable of gaining considerable enjoyment
from life with this deprivation. I'm determined to face the
frustration and accept it. Life is hard, but I make it harder by
bellyaching about it. Discomfort is just discomfort, not HORRORS.
Life consists of one discomfort after another--tough! My greater
problem is not the discomfort itself, but rather me horribilizing
about it. Seen in the context of all human problems, my discomfort
could easily be far worse. As I refrain from smoking, the discomfort
will tend to diminish.
- (new Feeling or behavior): Discomfort, rather than agitation.
Three Minute Imagery
After Jon had written out a Three Minute Exercise, I instructed him in
Three Minute Imagery:
STEP ONE
Vividly imagine, picture, or fantasize the following: You're in a
situation where you feel tempted to smoke (relaxing after a meal,
tense about a job interview, or bored with nothing to do). You're
experiencing a distinct urge to smoke, but you resist.
STEP TWO
Now, as you vividly imagine this, allow yourself to feel anxious,
depressed, or agitated about not lighting up. This is the same
inappropriate emotion you normally feel whenever you find yourself in
the situation in Step 1. Do Step 2 for only a few seconds.
STEP THREE
Still picturing the scene described in Step 1, make yourself feel
concerned, disappointed, or appropriately frustrated--instead of
anxious, depressed, or agitated. Since you create and control your
own feelings, with persistence you can modify them. How can you make
yourself feel concerned rather than anxious, disappointed rather than
depressed, or appropriately frustrated rather than overfrustrated?
Show yourself that you can stand frustration even though you don't
like it; convince yourself that no law of the universe says you
must have a cigarette merely because you strongly want
one; remind yourself that discomfort and deprivation are just that and
no more, never awful, terrible, or horrible.
Jon diligently practiced Three Minute Imagery for three minutes,
twice a day. After six weeks he had completely weaned himself from
his tobacco addiction. Two years later he reported that he was still
cigarette-free. He had had one relapse, after eight months, but had
quickly gotten back in control.