The "Double Bind"

Lately, I have been thinking about double binds. Before I left Israel twenty years ago, for two consecutive years, I studied intensive courses about family systems through the Barkai Institute of Marriage and Family Therapy in Tel Aviv. During my doctoral program at the University at Buffalo I minored in family counseling. One of the family systems areas that fascinated me the most was the Double Bind. This is no coincidence, of course. For we study that which we most need to understand or resolve within ourselves. Reviewing the characteristics of this system I turned to an old book I love: If You Love Me, Don't Love Me by Mony Elkaim. Quoting Bateson, Jackson, Haley, & Weakland (1956/72), Elkaim defines the characteristics of the Double Bind:

1. When the individual is involved in an intense relationship; that is a relationship in which [s/]he feels it is vitally important that [s/]he discriminate accurately what sort of message is being communicated so that [s/]he respond appropriately.
2. And, the individual is caught in a situation in which the other person in the relationship is expressing two orders of message and one of these denies the other.
3. And, the individual is unable to comment on the messages being expressed to correct [her/]his discrimination of what order of message to respond to, i.e., [s/]he cannot make a metacommunicative statement.

Needless to say, I recognize that I am that "individual" mentioned in the above. I have known for sometime, through studying and my own therapy, that, when I was a child I was a victim of the double bind. Mostly it has been a cognitive knowledge. Once, many years ago, one of my therapists described the process as: being beckoned with the person's index finger as if to say, "Come to me, my darling," but on arrival, receiving a slap across the face. Or, put another way, being told, "Darling, tell me how you feel," and then when I do, being screamed at for being a destroyer, liar, abuser, crazy, bad, or Sephardi person. That same therapist told me that I was extremely fortunate that I did not, in fact, become schizophrenic.

Recently, events have taken place that have sucked me right back into old familiar bind territory. And as I begin to unpack the feelings associated with it, I become more and more aware of what happens inside me and how I react. Indeed, this new emotional knowledge is helping me unhinge the bind, and realize that I am no longer that child whose very survival dictated a desperate need to "respond appropriately" to messages where one denies the other.

Instead, as a free thinking, independent adult, when confronted with situations like that, I might learn, rather, to hold still and allow myself to focus on what I start to feel. Ah, I see. I feel as if a) I am going crazy, b) there is something intrinsically bad about me, and c) I must be doing something wrong. And from there, start the unhinging process.

For example, I can realize that I am not crazy; rather the double messages are crazy-making. Or, I am not doing something wrong; rather, I am anxious that my response, not being what they wanted to hear, will certainly cause the other not only to be enraged, but might even abandon me. Ever optimistic or delusional that things must change for the better, I usually fall into the trap of responding in a number of ways (all hopeless and ultimately harmful for me): sharing my feelings, explaining myself, becoming crazy emotional (in which case I am told to calm down or stop being dramatic), and sometimes I even try to be intellectual or rational in the face of the absurd. Often, I choose to giggle or clown around to hide the fear and pain.

I could, instead, say something like this:

"I am confused. You are sending me two messages in which one denies the other. When you say you love me, but in the same sentence tell me you cannot visit me because everyone else is your priority, and then ask me why I don't feel loved, and will be enraged at how I answer you, I am unable/unwilling to respond."

Or:

"I am confused. You are sending me two messages in which one denies the other. When you say you love me in the same sentence where you are yelling at me, name calling, supporting others against me, blaming and shaming me, and then ask me why I don't feel loved, and will be enraged with how I answer you, I am unable/unwilling to respond."

Subsequent rage or abandonment (because a double bind ensures that any response is the wrong one) does not mean that I will cease to exist or am a bad person. Indeed, that type of rejection has nothing to do with me. On the other hand, I do not need to externalize a response at all. When situations occur (as they most surely will) I simply can internalize all those unhinging-of-the-bind, maturation, and discriminatory steps, learn to laugh at the predictability, absurdity of it all ... and just ... move on ... unmoved.

After all, my survival does not depend on figuring out an "appropriate" response any longer. For there isn't one ... and  ... so what!

I am safe now.

Comments

[tamarika]

Karen,
I think there are times when you do have to eject the person from your life - even if they are family. If they are so firmly set in their ways and it is impossible to unhinge. Of course, ideally, it would be to detach (or unhinge as I like to think of it) and to pull oneself emotionally out of the dance without breaking off the relationship. However, sometimes one's mental health is more important than relationship at all cost - family member or not. Thanks so much for stopping by my site and sharing your comments here. Much appreciated.

Yes, Richard, I like to think of it as learning an emotional tai chi. What a beautiful image.
And I so agree with both you and Brenda that the danger or difficulty is dragging that style of interacting into other relationships and perpetuating the cycle. For example, I watch that closely with my son and I. Fortunately he is such an aware person and understands human emotions so well, he is always helping me with that.

Mary, the moving on unmoved is, indeed, the hardest part, I believe. And I think laughing at the absurdity of the bind is life saving, actually.

[Karen]

Sometimes I'll open a book of meditations at a random point and, more often than not, my finger bookmarks what I need to work on at that moment.

It's like that for me with your blog. This post is like lookin' in a freaking mirror -- right down to what your therapist told you!

So, obviously one can't change the person who puts you in a double bind. Unless it's a parent, do you eject that person from your life?

[MB]

Tamar, thank you for such clarity. And brava, for such courage!

[Richard Lawrence Cohen]

It's so difficult to learn the emotional tai chi of stating one's feelings clearly and simply, of walking out of the double bind and leaving it nothing to hook you with. And, as Brenda said, of not passing the double bind along to others. Thank you for this wonderful post, Tamar, and to the wonderful commenters.

[tamarika]

Thank you so much for all your comments. Please forgive me ... I am too sad right now to reply. I will, though in a day or too.

Tearfully.