Applying development theory to mental health
People experiencing the toxic cocktail of emotions associated with shame develop mechanisms for dealing with those emotions. One such mechanism is to disavow a connectivity between our injured, vulnerable true self and the uncomfortable experience (Brown, 2010; Winnicott, 1965). By adopting Jung's archetypical Persona mask, presenting a different face to the world and to ourselves, we hold those uncomfortable feelings at bay, concealing what the true self is experiencing (Boeree, 2006; Jung, 1948; Winnicott, 1965).
Another mechanism for dealing with these painful emotions is by numbing ourselves from the consequences of feeling shame (Brown, 2010; Selva, 2019). Through addiction to substances, alcohol, or certain behaviors, we risk creating a more permanent version of the less vulnerable Persona, or what Winnicott (1965) terms the false self, as our primary contact with the world, leaving us dangerously out of touch with our true self. Perhaps an even greater danger than succumbing to the unhealthy false self is the risk of ingesting whatever narrative caused the shame in the first place, such that we begin to believe that negative narrative represents our true self (Bishop, 1994; Freire, 2000; Phillips, 2015).
Brené Brown’s shame resiliency theory (SRT) identifies the broad range of areas in our lives where shame can occur, as well as the impact of its consequences (Brown, 2006). SRT also profiles response mechanisms people have developed to deal with both the feelings and consequences of experiencing shame, such as avoidance and numbing. The strategies people employ in order to avoid feeling isolated or powerless inform the primary goal of SRT: helping those who feel shame to develop supportive emotions, i.e. empathy, connection, power, and freedom. A crucial aspect of SRT is for individuals to recognize that shame and its emotional consequences need to be recognized and understood in order to manage them (Selva, 2019).
Analysis of field interviews in a qualitative study with 38 individuals experiencing homelessness and six social service providers who deal directly with individuals experiencing homelessness, collected over the past 12 months, offers rich descriptive knowledge derived from lived experiences that illuminates how respondents ingest the psychological consequences related to feelings of shame. How the individuals process with the experience, their emotional and physical responses, as well as their mechanisms for making meaning of both the emotions and physical consequences of the experience, will be discussed using the framework of Jung’s Persona archetype, along with Winnicott’s (1965) true self/false self paradigm and Brown’s shame resiliency theory. It is the goal of this article to suggest implications for employing these theories and this framework in addressing mental health among individuals experiencing homelessness. It is also a goal of this article that policymakers and the general public better understand the deeply personal impact, and, by association, broader social repercussions, when a growing segment of the community is consistently dealing with feelings of shame.
Engaging the Persona
For individuals experiencing homelessness, as with every other individual human being, feelings of shame are highly personal. Individuals experiencing homelessness are particularly vulnerable to painful emotional episodes, due to their already compromised physical and psychological security. Employing a mask, or Persona, acts to shield the ego from negative images of oneself. On the street this can be a survival mechanism: the lifeline that holds us back from the abyss of mental illness. The good impression we offer the world through this Persona is one we imagine will be acceptable to society. The danger in prolonging our emphasis on this false self is believing our own pretense (Boeree, 2006).
Mitchelle Woodson, executive director of Think Dignity, a nonprofit organization founded by a group of women concerned over the treatment of people living on the streets, said several cases she was personally involved in regarding homeless youth led her to conclude that the prevailing negative narratives about homelessness provide dominant cultural groups with a justification for denying basic dignities to homeless individuals. Woodson said that historically, “for populations that have been marginalized and oppressed, they dehumanize them by demonizing them; creating these narratives about who they are, to justify the terrible way they are treated and to justify not providing dignity and respect and justice for them.”
Danny McCray, manager of the Transitional Storage Center operated by Think Dignity, and who has experienced homelessness, said public perception is typically shaped by one encounter with a homeless person exhibiting abhorrent or radical behavior. “One guy, one idiot that doesn’t care about his life and walking around the street looking like a clown, and people drive by and say, ‘that’s how the homeless are!’ That’s terrible. There’s some beautiful, intelligent people among the homeless. But they’re overshadowed by the idiots out here.”
Many people on the street reserve their true self for the few individuals they feel they can trust. They spend every moment protecting their belongings, their bodies and their psyche from constant abuse; they have few safe spaces. One individual experiencing homelessness, who sleeps near a vacant lot downtown, said he frequently sees women acting out as though they are overdosing on street drugs just to keep people from bothering them. “No one wants to mess with a crazy person,” he told me. “They do it as kind of a protection so people will leave them alone.”
Encountering Shame
Individuals experiencing homelessness shared with me some of the situations that resulted in generating painful emotions of shame for them. Being denied access to basic dignities of safe spaces to sleep, toilets and showers where they can clean themselves and present their best selves on a daily basis, and a secure means of storing their personal belongings so they can attend classes or go to work all become obstacles to living as co-equal members of society.
One woman with an abusive past that led her and her brother to leave the midwest for California pulled back a sleeve to reveal tattoos on each arm. A large woman, she said that because of her size, her tattoos and short hair, she is often misunderstood as aggressive, even dangerous. “I have multiple stigmas on me because I’m trans, I’m homeless, I’m an ex-junkie and I’m tatted,” she laughed. “So, if I tell them (police) ‘Hey, I just robbed this place,’ they’re gonna say, ‘Yup, I believe you. Now put your hands behind your back.’ There’s usually no question because of how I look.”
A man told me about carrying his backpack into a market and being asked to put his bags up front before shopping. It was degrading to the point of wanting to just leave and not buy anything, which he would have done except for his extreme hunger at that point. “You’re always trying to hide that you’re homeless,” another man told me. “I don’t know if they won’t hire you but they definitely look at you different. I mean you just want to be treated like anybody else.”
Their voices reflect sadness as they struggle to resist internalizing the profile of degeneracy of character they feel is projected onto them. Another man, for example, said police told him he couldn’t collect plastic bottles to recycle, even though it was this man’s way of earning food money. When he asked the officer why, he said the officer’s reply was “So we can starve you out.” That exchange “kind of shows you what we’re dealing with,” the man said.
Negative perceptions trigger dehumanizing treatment by the dominant cultural groups, which find their way into the consciousness of an oppressed group (Bishop, 1994; Freire, 2000), who begin to replace hope and self-esteem with those negative stigmas about their worth as a human being (Freire, 2000; Phillips, 2015). “You can see that certain look that they give you,” one TSC client told me. “That you’re something below their shoe.” A female client described pushing her small granny shopping cart to the door of the bus. The driver opened the doors, then closed them before she could step on, and drove off. “They make up their own rules,” she said.
True Self/ False Self
A young woman who is determined to get some of her six children back from the foster care system has been seeing a therapist as well as working with substance abuse and housing case workers to establish herself as a good enough mother, able to provide a nurturing home. She said it is common for people to smoke weed, drink and use drugs like heroin to numb themselves from the reality of life on the streets.
She feels she is able to separate herself from the temptation to self-medicate, however, and is making strides in being more honest with herself, motivated by a goal of reuniting with her children. At a recent visit with her therapist, an appointment where she brought a friend and her case worker, the friend pointed out she was not being honest about what she was sharing.
“Sometimes it takes other people to tell you that you’re being fake,” she said. At that meeting, “they were talking about my mental health and Papa Henry said I wasn’t being myself.” After initially protesting, “the other self started saying out loud, ‘yeah right, bitch, you’re not being either one of them bitches, you’re being fake as fuck right now. Anything to appease the case manager, that’s what you’re doing!’ And I was like, ‘Holy shit!’ And Papa Hen said, ‘see?! That right there is the true self!’.”
Winnicott would appreciate the young woman’s acknowledgement of her own mother’s inability to create a safe “holding environment” for her during her early childhood. Still a part of the young woman’s life, the mother consistently “sabotages” her efforts at autonomy, while also being extremely judgmental of her decisions and actions. Rather than give herself over to rage when this happens, the young woman finds a friend willing to share their supply of weed.
Developing protective mechanisms
Besides presenting a false self or numbing one’s self against painful emotions or harsh realities, many individuals develop processes for maintaining personal dignity while managing those situations and their emotional consequences. A man who works part time driving a truck and cleaning a pizza restaurant says he is meticulous in how he presents himself. People recognize him by his restaurant tee shirt and a handkerchief in his back pocket. He has a temper, he said, and refuses to accept people labeling him with negative narratives. “If I have to fight, I’ll fight. I won’t be the butt of people’s jokes,” he said.
A woman told me she also works hard on first impressions to counter the prevailing narratives about homeless individuals. “If they see a freakin’ purse and a small bag for drinks or a lunch pail, like you would take to work, you get the same respect as anybody else, but man if you’ve got a plastic bag over your shoulder or a backpack with you, or pushing one of them granny carts, you screw yourself man,” she told me. “You also have to keep yourself clean and presentable. How you present yourself and first impressions, are true. You can make a good impression, you can make a bad impression, both ways. I like to make a good first impression because um, once you captivate somebody, they’ll stay interested in you.” Sporting a pink top and turning to reveal her studded high top tennis shoes, she added, “I wish I could be suited and booted but right now tennies will do. Pumas aren’t bad. And they’re bedazzled.”
Another man with a part time job told me he had to lie about having a second job as a night attendant in a parking garage to account for the blankets he carries with him. “I told them it’s cold in the garage at night so I have to carry blankets. It’s embarrassing.”
Shame Resiliency Theory Applied
Brown would applaud the efforts of the young woman who is seeing a therapist and is willing to confront the personal vulnerability and external factors that lead to her feelings of shame; two of the three primary components of healing through SRT (Brown, 2006). The third step is connecting with others to receive and offer empathy. The fourth step requires confronting and deconstructing the feelings themselves. A goal of SRT is to help those who are feeling shame to connect with emotions that can empower them to counter those painful emotions, replacing them with feelings of empathy, power, freedom and connectivity (Brown, 2006).
In her research, going through hundreds of personal stories, she learned that those who developed successful resilience were those who were able to tell their stories wholeheartedly, speaking from their “whole heart,” and who truly believed they were worthy of being loved. “They were willing to let go of who they thought they should be, in order to be who they were. You absolutely have to do that to have connection. They also fully embraced vulnerability. They believed what made them vulnerable made them beautiful,” Brown told a TedTalk audience in 2010. The talk, titled The Power of Vulnerability, outlined the many areas of life where shame can occur and that numbing the painful emotions of shame doesn’t require heavy drugs; it can be as simple as a beer and a banana nut muffin.
Within Brown’s structure for utilizing SRT, we find a framework that can readily be employed by caregivers working with individuals experiencing homelessness. These four steps can become skills developed as part of self-care therapy sessions. These skills don’t require physical materials that are hard for individuals experiencing homelessness to keep safe. They don’t require repeated appointments that reflect a tedious chore or a physical space inaccessible on public transit. Rather, these steps in developing resilience represent a simple reframing of how we approach our own emotions, while supporting others in their efforts to do the same. Implications for successfully creating a healthier social community among the unsheltered with SRT also will require participation from police, outreach workers and people staffing temporary shelters. It takes a village.