Cognitive Analysis of an Autoethnography

Andy Bellamy B.Sc.

M.Ed., University of Northern British Columbia, 2009

Project Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of
The Requirements for the Degree of
Master of Education

In
Counseling

The University of Northern British Columbia
April2009
© Andy Bellamy, 2009

UNIVERSITY of NORTHERN,
BRITISH COLUMBIA
LIDRARY
Prince George, B.C.

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Abstract
This is an autoethnography project and consists of five stories in short story literary format
chosen from events that had significant influence on my personal development. The stories
are accompanied by a brief synopsis of the information processing account of cognitive
theory. The theoretical component is followed by an analysis of the stories from the
cognitive perspective thus producing a novel means from which to explore cognitive theory
and cognitive therapy. Autoethnographies have the effect of examining how human
experience is endowed with meaning therefore examination from a theoretical standpoint
serves as a solid foundation from which to expand on initial interpretations and experience
from the autoethnography alone. This project is an attempt to combine the personal with the
scholarly and is a means towards blurring the illusionary division between scholarly and
personal/evocative writing.

..

lll

Table of Contents
Abstract

II

Table of Contents

lll

Acknowledgement

lV

Chapter 1

Autoethnography: Introduction and Rationale

Chapter 2

Story One: Development of Core Beliefs

10

Chapter 3

Story Two: Development of Intermediate Beliefs

21

Chapter 4

Story Three: Depression

32

Chapter 5

Story Four: Cognitive Therapy

43

Chapter 6

Story Five: Cognitive Restructuring

51

Chapter 7

Cognitive Theory

62

Chapter 8

Cognitive Analysis of Autoethnography

81

Bibliography
Appendix 1

111
List of Cognitive Distortions

114

IV

Acknowledgment

To my loving wife. You are my ground and my star.
Not to mention really hot.

Autoethnography: Introduction and Rationale
This project is my attempt to create and share something that is meaningful,
personal, and reflective of our shared humanity. Specifically, the project that I have
constructed is an autoethnography. An autoethnography, in basic terms, is an autobiography
which is scholarly in nature in that not only is the author a full member of the social
phenomena being studied, but also he or she is committed to an academic agenda such as
improving theoretical understandings of broader social phenomena (Anderson, 2006).
Furthermore, what is unique in terms of autoethnographic research is that not only is the
author the participant of the research but the author is the research (Lapadat, in press).
Social science is in a perpetual state of change and innovation, expanding and
diversifying, so it is relatively recently that the autoethnography emerged as legitimate form
of social science (Anderson, 2006). An autoethnography is different from canonical forms of
social science, such as the traditional ethnography, because canonical forms are intellectual
in nature with the goal being objective knowing (Anderson, 2006, Bochner & Ellis, 1996).
The autoethnography, on the other hand, not only has the goal of intellectual knowing but
also the goal of immersion in the data, thus allowing me to produce the type of project I want
to create. Essentially, immersion within the data implies a multidimensional experience of
the data, which in effect is a more human experience, and includes among others, personal,
aesthetic, moral, emotional, and intellectual dimensions (Bochner & Ellis, 1996).
As a counselor, I have acutely experienced Bumier's (2006, Richardson, 1994)
contention that readers and writers of social science literature suffer the consequences of
sterile canonical forms of writing. The consequences that Bumier (2006) and Richardson

2
(1994) refer to are about the resulting deprivation of individual's in terms of experiencing the
depth of their humanity through denying the personal and the emotional. As a counselor who
by trade works directly and in depth with the personal and emotional, I have found the
personal component is sorely lacking within the professional and academic literature. As a
result, I consider autoethnography as the ideal platform because it combines the personal
with the scholarly and is a means towards blurring the illusionary division between scholarly
and personal/evocative writing (Burnier, 2006).
This autoethnography project will consist, in part, of five stories in short story literary
format that were chosen from events that had significant influence on my development.
Even though my experiences are presented in short story format the work is academic in
nature, by virtue of both process and intention, in that the stories are a device with which to
examine and understand aspects of human psychology such as development, trauma,
resiliency and coping. The stories are accompanied by a brief synopsis of cognitive theory
followed by an analysis of the stories from a cognitive perspective. The more formal style of
the autoethnography component of my project is similar to what Ellis (2002), a leader in the
autoethnography movement, produced to portray her experiences and response to the twin
towers tragedy in New York in 2001. In essence, this ethnographic project consisting of two
parts is a "heARTfull ethnography" . I borrowed this term from Ellis (1999) which she used
to describe an ethnography that incorporates researchers' vulnerabilities and emotions, and
encourages compassion and empathy. Furthermore, this type of ethnography helps us know
how to live and cope, and has the effect of examining how human experience is endowed
with meaning. Essentially, Ellis's description of a "heartful" ethnography is the core
intention and focus of this very personal project.

3
The chronological short stories included in this project are intended to reconstruct my
developmental history to provide a picture of meaning construction and coping. The stories
embody a constructivist perspective in line with Beck's cognitive theory of information
processing. Consequently, the title of each story emphasizes the salient cognitive focus
pertaining to the subsequent cognitive analysis. In essence, a recounted personal narrative is
a combination of personal meaning construction and memory reconstruction (Cottone, 2007).
Essentially, the stories reveal how I remember both distal and proximal experiences, but
more importantly, how I construct meaning through the events and perceptions that
encompass the story, which in tum leads to specific experiences that are tied to the meaning.
For instance, in the first story the meaning I derive about my self is that I am worthless. As
such, I co-create the experiences that are hinged upon such "meaning making". Throughout
this project, I employ the social constructivist approach, which is meta-theoretical in nature,
and views human reality as socially constructed (Torres, 2006).
Purpose and Value
The purpose of this work is multifaceted. For instance, this document might provide
novice counselors with insight into human resiliency and potential. For the more seasoned
counselors this document is a reminder of how a person can go through much tragedy yet still
keep their faith and zest for love and life alive. For all people reading this document, it is in
essence, a form of modeling. Firstly, it provides a vicarious experience, through my own
personal example, of ways to deal with the often tumultuous vicissitudes oflife. Second,
counseling clients are required to tell us their deepest darkest secrets and I salute and honor
their courage and bravery by sharing my own, and thus modeling the courage of sharing
personal information.

4

This project also has value on a more personal level. First, the evocative nature of
producing this autoethnography will be helpful for my own development as a counselor
(Vajda, 2007). Indeed, it is believed that such writing is similar, in effect, to what occurs
when a counselor seeks growth through seeing another therapist (Alsop, 2002; Vajda, 2007).
Essentially, in both situations the result is an exploring of personal fears, biases, and triggers.
Ideally, the inner exploring that comes about through the writing has the potential to result in
enhanced awareness, resolution, and integration of personal issues such as traumas, and
perceived shortcomings. Accordingly, through this process of reflection and selfexamination, I anticipate that I will become better able to bracket my own feelings and
experiences when counseling others, and also to utilize my own experiences as a resource to
reason about and empathize with the experiences recounted by clients.
Finally, the overarching purpose of this work is to entice individuals to engage in
cognitive therapy, therapeutically or professionally, through this personal and concrete form
of exposure to cognitive therapy. It is my experience that individuals often shy away from
cognitive therapy because of its complex aspects, so it is my hope that this very personal and
concrete description of cognitive theory will inspire more individuals to pick up the cognitive
torch.
Method
I chose these stories because they are representative in terms of the experiences that I
was having in the particular stage of development in which each story occurs. These stories
are representative for me in that the emotions evoked within me by each experience,
according to memory, were frequent in occurrence (except the fifth story). Furthermore, the
stories as they progress demonstrate how the experiences that I had within my social context

5
led to the co-creation of particular realities and developmental trajectories. The term "cocreation" is employed to encompass the social interactions and social processes that two or
more people contribute to, thereby forming a particular experience. This example of cocreation can provide counselors with deeper insight into how an early experience can affect
life choices and how the outcome of those experiences can shroud in shadow both the pain
and the true potential of a human being. For example, if a person has difficulty reading
which may lead to social interactions that result in shame and avoidance, the consequence
could be school failure. This alienation from school can lead to the individual embracing
antisocial behaviors, for instance joining a gang. In this case, the conceivable outcome could
be criminal conviction. Conversely, if this same individual has social interactions that create
the experience of support and care in response to the reading difficulty, an entirely different
outcome is conceivable. Finally, I offer my stories as hope for healing and wholeness to
those who have experienced similar tragedies through demonstrating that we as human
beings ultimately decide who we are, who we will become, through the power we have to
choose adaptively and the power to create.
The first story I reconstruct is about an experience I had in early childhood. Writing
this story was difficult and I was riddled with anxiety and resistance throughout the journey.
For instance, I inherited my parents' shame, in addition to being taught to never reveal the
family secrets or what goes on in the family home. My purpose for writing this story, indeed
this work, is that it is a "shame shattering" endeavor. Ideally, this shame-shattering exercise
is not only for me but also for those readers who have unjustly had blame and shame forced
upon them by more powerful others.

6
The second story that I share took place several years later in middle elementary
school. The purpose of this story is to demonstrate how the dysfunctional experiences that I
encountered in early childhood and my negative feelings and thoughts about myself gained
momentum and were snowballing into an avalanche of pain and despair. The overall theme
of this story is one of victimization and desperation.
The third story again moves forward several years to a point at which I made the
decision to stop being a victim. Nevertheless, even though I made that decision and tried to
establish a sense of personal power and self-respect, the utterly dysfunctional beliefs and
perceptions that I continued to develop turned me towards a path of self-destruction.
The fourth story again moves forward several years to the time in my development at
which I have made choices and had experiences that facilitated the unraveling of the
dysfunction that characterized my everyday life. Essentially, this story demonstrates the real
possibility of healing after dysfunction and indicates the momentum that is generated by the
realization of my personal value and power as a human being.
The fifth story demonstrates the reality and the depth of my personal healing and
accordingly demonstrates the reality of how I have also realized my personal potentials and
my ability to cope adaptively in difficult situations. The focus of this story is about how I
constructively dealt with my personal journey with cancer diagnosis and treatment, while
simultaneously continuing to work, maintain meaningful relationships, and continue to go to
graduate school.
The next section to this project is the presentation of a synopsis of the cognitive
theory of depression. This synopsis, although brief, provides sufficient information to
construct a solid understanding of the cognitive processes involved in depression. Aspects of

7
cognitive theory that are covered include the theory's evolutionary basis, the cognitive triad,
cognitive schemata, and the cognitive hierarchy. Interestingly, I am presenting the same
knowledge that I was armed with when I first started my battle against depression.
The final component is to analyze the five stories from the cognitive perspective. To
elaborate, the stories in and of themselves paint a dramatic picture of significant events in my
life that had significant impacts on my development. Consequently, the stories serve as
concrete and "visible" representations of events and experiences in my life. In contrast, to
the events and experiences contained within the stories, the cognitive processes that occurred
are less visible and require informed interpretation to come to reasonable conclusions about
the cognitive phenomena that took place. Through the stories and theoretical synopsis
provided, the intention is to provide the reader with a reasonable construction of a cognitive
map outlining a realistic account of the cognitive phenomena that led to my depression in
addition to the process that led to its abeyance.
Ethics
As a relatively new phenomenon, autoethnography and the ethical issues and
guidelines to be considered in such an approach are still in flux. Consequently, in addition to
familiarizing myself with the latest ethical recommendations (Ellis, 2001, 2007), I presented
this project for approval to the university ethics review board.

The steps I have taken to

protect identities include the approach of using pseudonyms for all persons and places.
Furthermore, I have fictionalized certain events, places, and persons within the stories. Any
resemblance of the characters to any person, living or dead, is strictly coincidental.

For

instance, references made to my foster mother may actually have been my aunt or one of my
many caretakers. These steps allow the purpose and value of the work to remain intact while

8

preventing any one individual from being identified through association to place, an event, or
myself.
In terms of protecting my relationships and myself, I have thought things through
very carefully. Although I present some sensitive information about myself in this project, it
is my intention to publish a much more in depth autobiography in the future. Consequently,
this project is my opportunity to prepare for writing my autobiography, not only by getting
valuable writing experience, but also through learning how to write autobiographically in an
ethical and responsible manner.
Summary
I chose to do an autoethnographic project for the reason that it provides me with a platform to
create and share something that is meaningful, personal, and reflective of our shared
humanity. As an autoethnography, this project is scholarly in nature in that I am committed
to an academic agenda, including improving theoretical understandings of social phenomena.
On a personal level, for me, this work, in addition to being an exercise in being
uncomfortable and vulnerable, is an attempt to pass on a message of hope and comfort to
people who have gone through similar experiences. The content presented, especially in my
earlier life is both painful and shame filled. Exposing myself in such a way is a "shout out"
to all people that we are not what happens to us nor are we our behaviors. As such, we are
not victims of the past or present but rather creative beings capable of constructing the life
we want; even with the inevitable bumps in the road and roadblocks that we encounter.
Ultimately, this work is my movement to take responsibility for who I am as a creative being
by helping others to discover, in a concrete fashion through this work, that they are also
creative beings with autonomy over the experiences they construct. For myself this work is a

9

movement towards honesty, integration, and authenticity but most of all autonomy, in that
unlike my past, I now know that only we as individuals can truly decide our worth and our
truth.

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Story 1: Development of Core Beliefs
I was aglow inside. It was the type of glow reflecting sweet innocence and an
intuitive awareness of unlimited possibility held by the brilliant late August morning. I was
living in and for the moment, as children are apt to do. The sun was low on the horizon and
had not yet devoured the coolness of the morning. I relished the contrast of cool morning air
flowing in my mouth and lungs while the warm rays of sunlight heated my back. I marveled
at the world like only a child of four can and wondered by what magic my elongated shadow
existed and what mysterious power it possessed. I stomped my joy with exaggerated strides
marveling at the popping sound my sneakers made on the pavement.
The magic and freshness of life thrilled and exhilarated me to the point that I felt
almost immaterial. The feeling was weightlessness, as if gravity did not exist. I was certain
that I could fly and that at any moment I would be floating up and off the sidewalk. It was
always a genuine surprise when this did not happen. It did not matter though; I was flying
like Icarus on the inside. I could feel the aliveness and presence of Jesus in all things. My
mother had taught me that God was in all things and always watching; I'd better be a good
boy.
We walked up Paradise Avenue, which always seemed to be busy no matter what
time of day it was. My parents had taught me to fear this avenue, not wanting me to be hit
or run over by a car. The specter of fear was absent today; I was too busy looking at all the
different vehicles trying to decide which one I liked best. Mesmerized by a cherry red '69
Camero that thundered by, I strained to turn my neck, walking forward but facing backward,
fascinated by the sight. I lost balance when I tripped over my own feet, but was saved from a
fall by my mother's clutching grip. "Ellla," (come!) she snapped, unable to hide her

11
annoyance. The sting I felt in my hand and heart quickly dissipated by the awesome sight
and sound of a transport truck passing us by. I felt the vibrations going through me like
waves as it passed by and was awed by the rush of wind that followed. I hoped I would find
a toy truck at Penelope's house.
There were four of us in my family including my parents, my brother, and me. My
father was away, as he often was, working in a camp. I did not miss him; I don't think any of
us did. Maybe his absence was why I was so happy on this particular day. I did not have to
see him fight with my mother over his cheating relationships or see him beat her into
submission to get the last of the grocery money to use for gambling. I did not have to endure
lashings from his belt because of playing too loud. Best of all, I did not have to endure the
crushing feeling in my heart and chest each time he called me. He did not call me by my
name or "son," but rather "fatso" for obvious reasons or "gorilla" because I was so ugly. The
contempt with which he called me by those horrible names burned wounds into my soul.
My brother and I were inseparable best friends and both looked forward to growing
up and becoming police officers. He was one year older than I, but everybody thought that I
was the older of the two. We both had dark hair, big eyes, and olive skin characteristic of
the classic Mediterranean appearance. Often people would confuse us for twins because we
looked almost identical except for the fact that I was about an inch taller and about twenty
pounds heavier. My parents often shamed him for being the older brother yet looking like he
was the younger one. None of that mattered right now because we were living in the moment
and for the moment the way only kids can do. The power of imagination temporarily
dissolves pain, fear and trauma and serves as a springboard into the infinite.

12
Suddenly we were there. The walk to my aunt Penelope's house, my mother's sister,
was over almost as quickly as it had started. I barely felt the pang of disappointment as it
quickly faded into new excitement. I let go of my mother's hand, and ran and tumbled on the
grass. The green grass was still moist and cool; sheltered and protected from the rapidly
intensifying summer sun by the westerly facing house. I ran and hid behind the huge poplar
tree, prompting my mother to chastise me for my enthusiasm. The house was an average
split-level house, rectangular in shape and small, but appeared huge to my inexperienced
eyes. I ran and rejoined my family almost tasting the sky blue color of the paneling on the
house. I marveled at the brilliant color; the whiteness of the stucco compared to the blue of
the house and the deep emerald green of the grass. The black rough-hewn metal stair railing
was cold on my small hand as I walked up the concrete stairs to the entrance of Penelope's
home.
"Stamata!" (Stop it) mother hissed. Through clenched teeth, she warned, "Don't
embarrass me or I'll kill you when we get home!"
Reality suddenly set in and I stifled a shudder. My enthusiasm dwindled and was
replaced with apprehension instead. We were set to spend the entire day at Penelope's house
and that meant that there were many hours where we were at risk of violating my mother's
strict and dogmatic standard of behavior. I was afraid because no matter how hard my
brother and I tried, we always seemed to do something wrong. We always seemed to do
something that would end up with disastrous consequences when Mother found out. Mother
justified her punishments by telling us that the punishment was for our own good and that she
would not do such things unless she loved us. Personally, most of the time, I had the sense

13

that I was not good enough to be loved and unworthy compared to other people. I repressed
my fear and pain and became a child again.
As I walked in through the entrance, I was inundated by the very ethnic scent of
Penelope's home. Years of cooking ethnic foods had perfumed everything inside Penelope's
home with the unique aromas of Greek culture. The inside was dark compared to the outside.
It took a few minutes for my eyes to fully adjust after experiencing the brilliance of outside.
I looked around at the familiar white walls of the living room and the mostly dark and earthy
colors of the furnishings. As I walked in the room, I sensed the dense and heavy energy
characteristics of adult living areas. I had not yet learned to discount my intuitive capacities.
"Ellatea, Ellatea!" (Come, come!) Penelope welcomed us in. Penelope was a big and
foreboding woman. She was not obese but rather a tall woman, as tall as my father and just
as wide. My mother appeared to be half her size. I could hear several other Greek women in
the dining area. They were engaged in animated conversation. It was an exchange that was
typical of the gatherings that Greek woman often have. It sounded more like a "battle royal"
wrestling match, where twenty wrestlers fight at once, rather than a civilized tea party. The
energy in the living room was stale in comparison to what was emanating from the dining
area; but it was still dense and heavy.
I felt an odd sensation of emotions, maybe shame, maybe worthlessness, maybe
confusion; probably all of the above. I scarcely recognized the woman I saw standing at the
entrance of the dining room. She was smiling, laughing, and talking animatedly but I could
see that there was something bleak and cold behind her facade. Her smile was an empty cut;
the facade I saw was not the mother I knew. I did know about social masks, however, even
at this age, having learned it from my mother. She taught us that God punished those who

14

were bad and there was hell to pay if we misbehaved or revealed the family secrets. I
shuddered at the thought. It was a mothers' holy right to punish her children so they grew up
to be good men. She loved us and punished us for our own good, so we would not turn out
like our father and ruin some innocent woman's life. Mother was very clear that each time I
made her cry an angel would die and fall from heaven. I think that I was that fallen angel.
Mother also was clear that we were to grow up to be good men. "You're not going to grow
up and leave me for some slutty girlfriend are you? You're going to take care ofyour mother
like a good man, right?" The emotional expectations did more damage than she in her
ignorance could comprehend. How was I to save my mother, I would think in horror. I am
just a little boy who is afraid of the world. My brother, pushing his way foreword, jostled me
out of my trance.
My brother and I escaped the cacophony and the potential mauling of cheek pinching,
and kisses from Penelope and the others by getting permission to go down to the playroom.
We absconded through a door by the kitchen and down a dark stairway that was long and
very steep. I walked down the stairs slowly and carefully, holding tightly onto the wooden
banister. By the time we were halfway down the creaky wooden stairway, my brother and I
were surrounded by pitch-blackness. I hated being in the dark. It reminded me of something
I did not like inside me, and I shuddered. Cautiously, I continued my descent into the
basement, lifting one hand out in front feeling for the cord that would tum the light on. I
found the nylon cord and pulled it as quickly as I could.
The light blazed to life and filled the basement with its yellow glow. The basement
was empty of other kids on this day. Penelope's kids, two boys and one girl, were visiting
their relatives in a nearby town. We had the basement to ourselves, thus there was less

15
chance of getting into trouble. It was cool and dank in the basement but it was still a child's
paradise. The unfinished basement had no windows or furnishings but was loaded with more
toys than you could shake a stick at. The energy was light and airy, the type of energy that
only innocence can produce. It was far removed from the dense and heavy energy of adult
reality.
We spent the entire day at Penelope's house, my brother and I playing in the
basement the majority of the time. Twice we went out to play in the small and empty
backyard, but the heat of the summer sun made it preferable to play in the coolness of the
basement. Penelope and Mother brought us our lunch that consisted of ham and cheese
sandwiches, milk and cookies.
"Everyone is talking about what good boys you are! " Penelope beamed.
I was grateful and relieved to know that we had managed to avoid angering my mother up to
this point. I heard my own inner voice " So far so good ..... so what?" "Efharisto Thea
Penelope," (Thank you Aunt Penelope) I said making sure my mother heard me thank
Penelope for the lunch; my brother quickly followed suite. As they were leaving, Penelope's
in the lead, my mother turned and reminded us to be "good boys" in a sickly sweet tone that
was foreign to my ears. The stem look that followed was much more familiar, reminding us
of the consequences of violating her behavioral standards. I put on a brave and innocent
front.
Dinner came and went much the same as lunch did and we continued to play well into
the evening. We had played with most of the toys and games being the "good boys" we had
to be. We had managed to avoid facing the wrath of the demon. We were in the middle of
our favorite made-up game called "Police" when I discovered the section of the room we had

16
automatically ignored all day. It was the area in the basement where Penelope ' s daughter
kept her toys and dolls separate from the possessions of her brothers; traditional gender roles
within the Greek community are sharply divided. My brother found an old mousetrap and
started to play with that by setting it off with various toy figurines.
Genuinely curious, I furtively examined the toys made for girls to play with. At first,
I did not find anything that was even remotely interesting to me. There was a plastic tea
service set complete with all the necessary utensils. There was also a variety of baby dolls
and stuffed animals, which held little allure. As fate would have it however, just as I was
losing interest, I found a dollhouse with a Barbie doll in it. The dollhouse was two stories
high with a pink roof and a white exterior. I opened the toy house, which folded out from the
middle as doll houses typically do. The realistic layout of the home was impressive to my
innocent eyes. I marveled at the downstairs, which had the living room on one side complete
with chairs and couches and the other side the dining room complete with kitchen, and table
and chairs. The upper floor section contained the bedroom complete with a bed and the
bathroom on the other side complete with a bath and sink. I wanted to play with the toys in
front of me, but with a shudder, I backed away and tried to forget about them. I was afraid of
the consequences of being caught playing with girl toys.
My brother continued to play with the mousetrap while I was examining the toys on
the other side of the room. Just as I approached him, he put one of the cookies from dinner
on the trap and set it off. What a thrill! We laughed with joy as the cookie exploded into a
million smithereens. All caution forgotten , I jumped down beside my brother, shouting that
it was my tum. From then on, we took turns exploding all the cookies, laughing at the
casualties the plastic army men endured from the bombardment of "cookie bombs." We

17
were both lost in a fuzzy bubble of pleasure that was brought about by excessive laughter.
Suddenly, the bubble popped as I heard some of the women from upstairs saying their
goodbyes and leaving.
I felt the blood drain from my face when I realized what we had done. "NO!", I
cried, trying to recover from the kick I had just experienced in my stomach. The kick turned
into the iron fist of fear as it squeezed and twisted my innards in an excruciating manner.
George understood when he saw my reaction.
"We have to clean this up before Mom finds out" I said in panic having realized that
it was close to time to go.
We both got down on our hands and knees and started hurriedly trying to sweep up all
the cookie crumbs into piles. I felt my stomach drop and my heart rise up to my throat when
I realized the futility of trying to clean up cookie crumbs off a shag carpet with our small
hands. I started picking up the crumbs one at a time. George found a broom and brought it
over trying to sweep up the crumbs. The broom just made the problem worse because it
made the crumbs jump in all directions and spread to an even bigger area.
"We have to hide it!" he said in a desperate voice.
We proceeded to cover the mess with toys and books. I knew that it was a futile
effort; Mother was coming down soon and there was going to be hell to pay. I continued
picking up crumbs where they were still exposed on the rug. I was correct in my assessment
that it was almost home time because mother soon came downstairs to the basement.
The nightmare began. "Tea ekamete!" (What have you done!) she screamed, as she
ran over to get a better look at the mess. "We're sorry, Mama,' we cried in unison. Mother
grabbed me in an iron fist by the arm and before I knew it, I felt the horrible sensation of my

18
lips exploding against my teeth. I screamed in pain. I was not sure what hurt more, the
physical pain, or the emotional trauma. I dropped to my knees, holding my face and crying
in anguish. My eyes were closed so I could not see what was going on, but I could hear my
brother screaming and the loud smacking of my mother' s fury being taken out on my brother.
Penelope came downstairs and tried to stop the drama. " Stamata, me htipas ta
pethya" (Stop it!-don 't hit the kids).
Mother picked me up off the floor by pulling and twisting the hair on the side of my
head by my ear where it hurts most. She then went off on a tirade as Penelope rushed off to
bring my brother and me wet cloths to clean our faces .
One second we were in Penelope' s house, the next we were outside walking to a
black vehicle to get a ride home. I was in a dazed stupor and groggily stepped into the
vehicle. I felt horrible, but I still remembered the bright colors the day had started with.
Now everything was black and white; everything was drained of color. The grey house and
black grass made the world feel hopeless to me. A ray from the moon illuminated the
interior of the car and I noticed my mother was holding another plant given to her by
Penelope. It seemed that no matter how hardy a plant or flower was it always died when it
came to my Mother. Maybe people are not so different from plants. I could see the full
moon outside through the car window. I held on to that beacon of light to distract me from
the darkness that I felt. The car ride ended all too soon. I remember hearing Penelope telling
my mother that what we did was no big deal and to take it easy on us.
It was dark inside. There would be no light on this night. She grabbed my brother

first. She grabbed him by the hair and struck him atop the head repeatedly. My father had

19

taught her well; she was hitting only areas that would hide the bruising. She threw him
down, came to me, and then did the same.
My brother and I were beside each other on the floor breathing like frightened
animals. I could see my terror reflected in the glint of my brother's eyes. I could see the
rage and insanity in my mother's eyes and felt like I was crippled inside. Maybe she saw this
because then she did something I had not seen before. She turned her anger inward and
started beating on herself on her own chest and face. With an inhuman shriek, she pulled out
clumps of her hair. My brother and I started crying even more begging her to stop "stop
mom, please!"
Each moment was an eternity. I just wanted it to end but hell is eternal. I tried to
look at her despite the daggers that were butchering my gut. She would not listen to reason.
She continued the self-abuse by tearing her shirt off and then by scratching at her chest and
neck leaving bloody marks where her nails scrapped and broke the skin. "This is what you
have done to me!" she screamed. "This is because of you!" Her blood looked black in the
darkness of our place. "Why, God do you do this to me? Why do you torture me, God?" she
screamed, "I wish I was dead!" She grabbed us by our arms and dragged us to our bedroom.
The next thing I knew I was in my bed begging for oblivion. "Why? Why? Why?"
I kept thinking, wondering the reason for the horrors experienced tonight.
I remembered that each time I made my mother cry an angel died and fell from
heaven. So this was why things like this happened. It was because God hated me and made
me into an unworthy and powerless person. It all made sense. This belief became my
deepest, most shameful secret that I never spoke of to anyone. God hated me so much that
not only did he make me flawed but also he brought pain to those who were close to me, to

20
further punish me. Then finally, a form of dreamless sleep came, the type brought about by
severe trauma where the body and mind virtually shut down.
The next morning when I woke up, I noticed mother pretended as if nothing had
happened. She went about her day as she normally did. She may not have changed, but I
had. I did not notice at first but I was not glowing anymore and was holding less light. I did
not notice at first that the world was drained of its colors, more and more each day. The boy
who had begun experiencing life with a perspective of unlimited possibility, now was
looking at the world through a box without a window.

21
Story 2: Development of Intermediate Beliefs
"The answer Mr. Giannoulis?" I looked up from my reverie with a start. "Mr.
Giannoulis, the answer?" The teacher continued to probe with growing annoyance. I had no
idea what the answer was. I had been lost in apprehension thinking about the walk home
today after school. Dillon, a kid in my class, had it in for me. The word was that he was
going to beat the crap out of me after school. Dillon was one of those individuals with
personal qualities that won over others easily. Some people he won over through friendship,
others through respect, and still others through fear. Even the girls flocked to him even
though we were at an age where we typically presented disdain towards the opposite sex. In
typical fashion of my crappy luck, it had to be Dillon that I accidentally pissed off. So now
he had me in his crosshairs.
It was not getting beat up that I was afraid of; that was actually the easy part. I could

easily take a few blows and put on a show of being hurt and the situation could probably end
with that. What distressed me the most is that Dillon had the capacity to turn almost
everybody against me. Few would side with me. Why would they? I was an overweight
nine-year-old kid without any redeeming qualities whatsoever. Although it killed me inside
to think about myself this way, this is all I had known of myself because almost everybody I
had ever met, including my mother and father, had treated me as such.
"What is the answer Mr.Giannoulis?" I could feel my face flushing crimson and my
heart pounding in my chest like a jackhammer. I knew that if I messed up this question the
class would laugh at me again thus reinforcing the fact that I was a loser. My body
involuntarily clenched as if the seat I was an electric chair and somebody was about to throw

22

the switch. I tensed even more as the charged attention of the entire class surged to me and
then through me.
My head was swimming and I could feel a black vitreous ball in my throat. It was the
emotional sludge that results from oppression and years of repressed self-expression and
emotions. I could hear the buzzing of mocking laughter and the pain of jabbing comments. I
could not understand what they were saying, but I could feel it. The disgrace I felt told me
everything I needed to know.
"Get out to the hallway," the teacher sneered his contempt. "There you can think why
it's important to pay attention in class!"
I would not have said anything at that point, even ifl could have. I knew better than
to do that. My home life had taught me the horrible consequences of talking back to an
angry adult. I did not do these things on purpose, rather, I was preoccupied with trauma from
both school and home. I suffered at school all day then went home, looking for a soft place
to fall, but found myself instead between a rock and a hard place. I could not talk to anyone.
Airing my family ' s dirty laundry in public was tantamount to treason in my family. I started
to question my experiences thinking that I didn't deserve this kind of punishment. I was
innocent. Why did these things happen to me? Why couldn't anybody see me? I needed
help and to be loved, not punishment. I could see this and I was just a kid; why couldn ' t
anybody else see this?
I pushed my desk forward , and stood up to begin the walk of shame. I was keenly
aware of how I looked as all eyes were on me. It was impossible to fade into the background
as I usually tried to do. I focused my gaze down at the ground, wanting the earth to open up
and swallow me whole. My hair had fallen over my face making it difficult to see. My dark

23
brown hair was unusually thick and full, and a nightmare to manage. Messy, unkempt, and
desperately in need of a cut, my hair sat atop a head that was too big for my body making my
head look even bigger than it actually was. Although my clothes were clean, they were
unattractive and ill fitting. They were the type of clothes that invite the scorn of the older
kids out on the playground after school. As I walked, I prayed to die in spades, but in my
mind I was forsaken, and as such, beyond that mercy.
I was walking down the row with my head down holding in what was a volcano of
grief wanting to explode. However, it did not explode because I knew that even though I was
in a building with hundreds of other people, there was no one there to hear my scream. There
was nobody there to see or hear me. My so-called friends were laughing too and I stifled the
groan as knives were stuck a little further into my back. My heart blackened even more as
the group of girls I had to pass to get to the door leaned back in their desks with contempt
and disgust on their faces. My parents were right, nobody will ever love me, but I knew I'm
not like that; not really. Why couldn't anybody see me?

As I continued my death march, I

felt empty inside; yet, with a terrible pain as those around me took what can't be given.
Dillon sat behind the group of girls. "You're dead, worm" he hissed softly as I
walked by. The teacher regained control of the class as I walked out the door into the cold
hallway. It was darker outside in the hall compared to the well lit classroom, and I was
comforted, even though the darkness reminded me of something inside me; something not
pleasant that wants to come out. I curled up with my back against the cold wall and made
myself as small as possible. With my head tucked in and on my knees in a sitting fetal
position I prayed to God. Again, I prayed to die in spades, yet I knew my prayer was useless.

24
Accepting the futility of praying, I started to question why. Why did God give me
nothing? It seemed as if the world had thrown me away; as if I was not worth anything and
as ifl did not deserve anything good. I took inventory in my mind of some of the other kids I
knew to see if I was truly as destitute as I felt I was. Gabriel came to mind. His family was
as poor as my own, also on welfare, but he had a great personality and had no trouble making
friends . Michael was not attractive, and neither did he have the greatest personality, but at
least his parents loved him and they had money. He was respected because he always had
the coolest new gadgets and expensive clothing. Raphael had parents who seemed like they
did not much care about him but he was attractive. He was a person that the girls seemed to
love to be around. No matter whom I thought about, nobody was as destitute as I was. Why
was I left out? It seemed that God had provided for everybody in some way, by giving them
something that made life worth living. Why was I cursed with this horrible fate?

In that cold and dark school hallway I had an epiphany about why I was always so
afraid, and that made me feel better. I realized why the other kids had all sorts of courage that
I did not have. They had the courage of a full stomach. They had the courage that comes
from knowing you are loved and have someone who has your back. They had the courage
that comes from knowing that their parents have the resources to deal with any circumstance
that can arise. Even though I was still just a child, I realized that my fears were a
consequence of my existential poverty.
Movement caught from the comer of my eye interrupted my downward spiral. I saw
someone tum the comer and enter the hallway. It was Jay, a true friend and somebody I
could count on. Unfortunately, he was weak as a kitten and not very socially influential. Jay
was a smart kid who loved sports but was the exact opposite of me in many ways. He was

25
undersized for his age and always slightly immature, whereas I was bigger than average and
more grown up compared to other kids my age. I was dark haired with brown eyes and olive
skin, whereas he was blonde with pale eyes and pale skin; almost an albino.
"Is it true about Dillon wanting to fight you?" he asked excitedly.
"Not just fight," I replied, "He wants to kick my ass in."
"So what? You can take him!" he replied confidently.
He was probably right. It was well known out on the playground that I was a tough
kid; I had to be or I had nothing. When we played games of strength like wrestling, I always
dominated. When wrestling, it was not unusual for me to be pitted against several other kids
in order to even things up. I probably could easily beat him in a fight but the issue was my
gentle and loving nature. I did not have the heart to physically hurt someone, it wasn't the
kind of person I wanted to be. I knew what pain was, and I knew it on many levels and that
the world was full of it, so I wanted nothing to do with it. There was also the issue of the
school and the issue of my parents finding out. If my parents found out, without a doubt,
there would be hell to pay.
As Jay and I continued our conversation, I wondered when I would be let back into
the classroom. I could hear that the class was watching a National Geographic filmstrip on
animals. "What happened? Why does he want to fight you anyway?" Jay inquired.
"It's all so stupid; it was an accident..." I recounted, in an embarrassed and frustrated
tone, the events that put me in my current position.
There were five of us in an unsupervised classroom during lunch. The teacher had
requested that we stay indoors to catch up on homework that had not been finished. Of the
five of us in the classroom, there were four boys and one girl. The girl's name was Trinity,

26
and I was in love with her. She was considered the prettiest girl in the class. She had
shoulder length dark hair, big brown eyes, and was one of those girls who is short in stature
and develops early. Of course, I would never have admitted my feelings for Trinity to a
living soul, not even to Jay. That did not matter though because I was still pretending not to
like girls, much like many of the other boys my age. I felt comfortable behind that facade.
As fate would have it, Dillon was one of the boys in the class and he was not in a
good mood having had to stay in and work during lunch. Shortly after the teacher had left,
Dillon started to play the heavy. No doubt, he was bullying us to show off for Trinity. He
started first by calling us down and being cynical. He escalated his bullying by getting out of
his chair and smacking the guys behind their head as they did their work. He did not smack
me in the head, though, he only punched me in the shoulder. I could tell that he was a little
bit intimidated by me but he had nothing to fear. After a while Trinity scolded him; she was
the only one brave enough to stand up to him. After a while, Dillon apparently got bored with
bullying and he decided to try something new.
"Get up you bunch of dorks! The teachers' not in here; why are we working?" he
asked contemptuously.
We all got up and started to socialize. We stood in a circle around one desk that
nobody was sitting at. Dillon, pleased that we were all obeying, toned down the
aggressiveness and started being more social. I was not very comfortable in this situation. I
tried my best to appear at ease and not intimidated. I did not know who was scaring me
more, Dillon or Trinity. Of course, I was terrified of these two for very different reasons. I
hated that about myself. Why was it that I was so socially awkward? I hated the fact that I
could not just relax and join in a conversation. Situations such as this were often like a

27
nightmare from which I could not wake up, where I was powerless to do anything. I had to
try to ignore my embarrassment and shame at how I looked and how I was dressed,
especially when girls were around. I had to pretend to laugh, and pretend to have a good
time to fit in, but inside I was tormented. The worst of times were when I made an effort to
contribute to the conversation, for example, by trying to say something funny. The attempt
usually fell flat; then I would be left there floundering like a fish out of water. After a few
minutes, Dillon was back to his usual form. He had started punching and pushing the other
boys. We endured the punishment with minimal complaint. It was getting pretty rough in
there and I was concerned that he was going to hurt someone. After hitting one of the other
boys particularly hard, Trinity again scolded him for being so ignorant. Dillon then
proceeded to walk towards Trinity with his fist raised.
That was where my troubles begin. On some level I must have thought he was going
to hurt her. Without a thought, purely instinctual reflex took over my body's faculties. I felt
my body move and step in front of Trinity and then shove Dillon out of the way. It was one
of those moments where everything was going in slow motion. To my surprise, he actually
flew through the air, knocking a desk and chair over and causing a domino effect with three
more desks and chairs. Time returned to normal speed and I was horrified and petrified at
what I had done.
My face turned red and I quickly ran over to Dillon to try to give him a hand up. As I
approached him, I could see that he has misunderstood the crimson on my face for anger, and
I could see the look of fear and confusion on his face. I quickly pulled him up and asked him
if he was okay. Before he could answer, I started righting the desks and putting the chairs
back up to cover my own shame and fear. To my surprise, he started to do the same. Why

28
did I do such a stupid thing? Now everyone would know how I felt about her I thought.
What a joke. The guy who had nothing is interested in the girl who had everything--the
ultimate in terms of mission impossible. I muttered something about having to right the
place before the teacher came back. I grumbled that I was sorry and that I thought he was
ready for the push because I thought he was attacking me. He said that he was going for
Trinity. I felt cautiously optimistic reliefbecause they all seemed to have bought my story.
My secret was safe, but now I had to deal with the consequences of Dillon and his bruised
ego. I finished telling Jay the story, withholding all information regarding my secret.
Jay offered me his help and I was grateful to have him as my friend. We made plans
to hide in the back of the school for a while and then take a different way home in order to
avoid Dillon and his crew.
"Do you want to play hockey later on?" Jay asked.
Just then, serendipitously, I heard the filmstrip the class was watching. The narrator
was commenting on the shocking grotesqueness of how some mothers within the animal
kingdom will eat their young. It struck a chord in me. At least the animals only have to go
through it once, I thought. "Yea," I responded, "hockey sounds good". I did not like hockey
but at least it got me out and away from my home, away from the mother who ate her
children on a daily basis.
I met Jay at the end of the school day as we had planned. Apparently, missing the
filmstrip had been punishment enough, and the teacher cut me loose after a brief pep talk.
I'm not sure if the pep talk had its intended effect because I was once again left feeling that I
was not good enough, that I didn ' t measure up, and that I was hopeless, even though I was
doing my best.

29
Jay and I cut through a nearby park figuring that killing time at a local mall was a
good way to avoid Dillon and his crew. Although Jay was animated and appeared to be
having fun I was suffering inside but as usual I was trying to appear stoic and brave. Why
did these things always happen to me? We were walking around the mall and I was lost in a
hopeless haze. Everywhere I looked everything was telling me that I was not good enough.
Everything was telling me that I had been thrown away. Some advertisements told me that I
needed their product to be cool, but for me that was impossible as I could not afford that.
Other advertisements told me that I needed their product to be happy. Again, that was
impossible also because I could not afford that either.
Making things even worse was that as we walked in and out of the stores, I noticed
the look of distrust and disgust as I walked into a store. I had never stolen anything, yet they
treated me as if I was a criminal All around me, I saw what society thought of me. All
around me, I saw what I supposedly needed but could not have. The longer we stayed in that
mall the deeper the hole I was in became.
I was startled out of contemplating my nightmare when I suddenly tripped and
stumbled. I looked down and saw my lace had come undone and felt that as if it was the end
of the world. It was the straw that broke the camel's back; I'd had enough and could endure
the mall no longer. When we departed from the mall we were left with an important
decision. We could either cut through the park again, the longer way to get home, or take the
quicker way by the boulevard. We decided on the park because there was less chance that
Dillon and his crew were waiting there. We cut into the park, quickly covering ground to get
our butts out of the area.

30
As my luck would have it, Dillon and his crew were at the park and walked into the
clearing just as we did. There was no escape at this point; the ridicule that would come from
running away would be much more costly than taking a beating. Luckily, there were only a
few of them. We waited for them to cover the ground over to us. Dillon came straight to me
calling me down and uttering threats. As this happened, Jay skulked off to the side so as not
to become a target; I was alone again. Dillon smacked me across the head. Oddly, I was not
afraid. Although I could not hear what was being said, I could hear his friends laughing and
calling me down. He wound up and punched me in the mouth. What happened next was
unexpected. I decided that I had to hate myself enough to allow myself to become the
monster I had to be in order to survive. The darkness inside me had come to life. The door
to the vault was thrown from its hinges as the darkness made its entrance into my world.
Years of grief, victimization, and hopelessness were transmuted instantaneously into
uncaring and unrelenting rage.
I picked Dillon up over my head in a body slam maneuver and threw him onto the
ground. Again, I saw that same look of fear in his eyes that I had seen previously. He
attempted to attack with some punches but I subdued him. I grabbed him by the hair, as he
scampered and turned his back. "I'm going to kill you," I howled. Of course, I did not kill
him; rather it was me that I killed that afternoon.
I learned much on that day. I realized that I had to hate myself to overcome my gentle
docile nature. I learned that being hated and feared was better than being ridiculed. It hurt
less and it made a bitter and painful life a little more bearable. It was the day that I became
what I had always dreaded to become. It was the day that society finally turned me into a
consumer, as opposed to the consumed. It was the day I went from being the prey to being

31
the predator. I had come to realize that contrary to societal and religious mores, it was not
love and charity that ruled the day but rather power, and for me, on that day, I realized that
power was there to be taken. It was the day I learned that my darkness would have my back
even if nobody else would. Still, the wounded part of me, now buried deep inside, wondered
about me. How was it, that when the world consumed a child, nobody considered it rape?

.---------------------------------------

32
Story 3: Depression
I awoke to the sounds of someone rummaging in the kitchen. The more I regained
my orientation to self, time, and place, the less I liked what I was experiencing. Mornings
were never good even at the best of times. It was as if the grime of my unconscious floated to
the top, making me feel horrible, and it took about an hour and copious amounts of coffee to
push it all back down into oblivion. This morning was worse than usual because my head
felt as if it had been inflated, about ten sizes too big, before being shrunk back down to
regular size. As for the rest of my body, it was protesting the bombardment of sensations
that were akin to severe flu like symptoms. The physical and emotional pain was
overwhelming and made me lay still and not move.
"Maybe I'm just dreaming," I thought hopefully.
I could hear the rummaging again and it was preventing me from falling back into the
merciful arms of oblivion, instead keeping me in a state between sleeping and wakefulness. I
felt the familiar sensations of riding the wake of a multi-chemical hangover. Suddenly,
unbidden vivid images start to flood into my awareness. In this state of semi-consciousness,
I could not tell if the images are real memories or just memories of a dream. I steeled myself
for what might come and allowed the images to flood my mind.
It was the start of the night and we were in Damon's basement. It was nice and cool
in the basement and it was nice and dark. Three black candles were the only source of light
and they scarcely lit the perimeter of the large room. The flames from the candles struggled
to illuminate the thick burgundy curtains that elegantly covered the white walls that were
underneath. Remnants of past repasts were strewn on the floor, as were various empty
containers from previously consumed beverages, most of them alcoholic. The room was

-

!
33
divided haphazardly into three sections. The one section was a workout area equipped with
various exercise and weightlifting apparatus, including a stationary bike, bench press, and
weights. Beyond that was an area with chairs, a couch, and television, similar to a typical
living room, other than the unusual ornaments that decorated the walls. I was sitting on the
inclined bench-press and looking at the third section. There a large inverted pentagram was
draped high on the wall and hung over an inverted cross that sat on an altar with various
other arcane apparatus.
There were just three of us that night. Adam, with his buttocks exposed was bent
over on the altar, bracing his weight, as Damon injected him with a dose of steroids.
Damon looked at me with a sly grin. He looked like the cat that ate the canary. "O.K. I'm
done" he says to Adam" I've pulled out the syringe".
"That wasn ' t so bad", said Adam, as he stood up straight and began to pull his pants
up. He was visibly shocked and stopped short of pulling up his pants when he realized that
Damon had left the syringe in all the way to the hilt. We had a laugh at Adam's expense as
he stood there helpless with his pants down unable to tum to see or reach the syringe because
of his bulk. The thick oil based steroid and intramuscular nature of these injections require
the use of long and thick needles. I walked over and pulled the pipe out of his butt cheek.
We had just finished working out, and had just cracked some beers to prime ourselves
for the evening. I gulped down half a beer, grabbed a fresh syringe, and loaded it up with the
oil-based testosterone. This day was a biceps day, one injection in each bicep. I did not know
if there was any validity to the colloquial claims of enhanced benefits through using site
injections. It did not matter anyway, because the physical pain was better than feeling the
nothingness I usually felt. The cuts on my arms spoke volumes on that. Little did I know,

34
however, that I would pay dearly, later on in life, for those injections. I am not sure I would
have cared, even ifl did know, because the life I was living was a deliberate slow form of
suicide. Rebellion and subversion were now my only thrill. I was hateful and critical of
people in general and all social institutions. I did not realize this but I was so far removed
from my authentic compassionate and loving nature that it was impossible to be happy. I
believed that who I was that day was me, because I had forgotten why I became this way. I
had forgotten that I adopted this way of living to survive and as a way to escape the pain of
my life.
I was seventeen, but I looked more as if I was in my twenties. At five foot ten inches
and over two hundred pounds of steroid enhanced human, I was a sight to behold. I had
chest length black hair, always all black wardrobes, and steel toed boots that provided a
height advantage. I used my wardrobe, indeed my body, to communicate to others to stay
away from me. The black clothing also had additional personal significance and reflected the
idealism of adolescence. My black wardrobe expressed my mourning. I mourned how
humanity was filled with so much hate and ignorance. I mourned the hungry and the
homeless. I mourned how few could see through the political and religious hegemony and
how they were content to live as sheep to the slaughter. Worst of all, I mourned how God had
desecrated humanity by turning his back on us. I mourned how society continued to burn
me, and others like me. I mourned how the masses blindly followed false ideals and
ideologies. I mourned how hegemony and hypocrisy ruled the day and made my life a living
hell. For that, there was no forgiveness. Society's harms were unforgivable. No wise and
loving God did this, I thought, and one day God would fall too.

35
Damon interrupted my reverie and drew my attention with his movements. He was
the most impressive physical specimen out of our small group. He was eighteen years old,
well over six feet tall, and about two-hundred and fifty pounds and was the informal leader of
our group. Damon was a charismatic paradox in that he was the ultimate expression of the
"evil genius" but unlike most evil geniuses, he had the body and strength of a professional
wrestler. Born with the blondish brown hair typical of his heritage, he dyed it black to match
the antisocial image he wanted to convey. He was thrilled to be watching as I successfully
injected my left bicep. Adam on the other hand was not so enthusiastic and went to see what
was on the television. Again, I grabbed a fresh syringe and loaded it up with oil. This
maneuver was more difficult because I had to use my left hand to hold the syringe, and I am
right handed. I felt the pinch as the needle broke the skin and the needle slid in much easier
after that. As I slowly injected the oil, Damon was watching fascinated and with glee.
"F****n 'A', Andyman," he encouraged. "We're going to get fu***n huge and were going
to f*** everyone up!" he exclaimed in a tone filled with pride and excitement.
I finished the injection and just as I pulled out the syringe, several ounces of blood
spurted out in a millisecond, and quickly covered the side of my chest and floor. I was
amazed at how much blood could surge out of such a tiny hole. "F* **!" I cursed as I put
pressure on the vein with my fingers. Damon was delighted and overjoyed with laughter, but
the laughter did not bother me; I knew he was not mocking. I exited the room to the
adjoining bathroom where I cleaned myself up. I knew I did not have to worry about the
blood on the floor.
Several minutes passed and as I re-entered the room I saw Damon had just finishing
loading his shotgun. He chugged his beer and threw the can to the floor to join the other

36
empties. He then raised the gun and took aim at Adam. He was teasing Adam and reveling in
Adam's uncomfortable squirming. We knew he would not pull the trigger on a brother, but
still, accidents happen. He turned the gun in my direction, as I walked back into the room.
"Andyman," he said, with his voice quivering in mad fashion, as he laughed. He really was a
mad man, but I respected him on many levels, because he had introduced me to alternative
conceptions of God, and the value of questioning and examining the status quo.
"F*** off, I replied in a stern tone, "put the fu***n gun down. "
He was still laughing as he stood down and I think I detected a hint of
embarrassment. "I'm just kidding you guys," he said apologetically as he wiped perspiration
off his forehead and upper lip. Years later, I would wonder if that gun he pointed at us was
the same gun he used to take his own life.
"What are we going to do tonight?" Adam asked.
"Whatever," I reply, "Let's get fu**ed up." It had been a stressful week and the only
way I knew how to cope was to let off steam in chemical fashion .
"Yea!" Damon chimed, "Lets get some coke."
I did not want to do coke. I wanted to be able to sleep later on that night because I
only had a few hours of sleep in the last few nights . Besides, our group strongly believed in
discipline and control, and believed that those who are addicted to drugs were addicted
because they were weak and inferior. We took measures so that we did not use drugs
everyday. Nevertheless, the more time that passed the less steadfast Damon seemed to be
about this philosophy.
After a brief discussion, we compromised and decided to really cut loose and do both
magic mushrooms and coke. Adam was sent to the liquor store to get more alcohol, while

37
Damon and I gathered everything else. The plan was to meet as soon as possible at Miller's,
Damon's brother's house. There we could do what we wanted as long as we shared some of
our loot.
We arrived at Miller's to find that Adam was already there. After the initial
greetings, I grabbed a beer and sat down to watch some TV. The house was buzzing with
activity as everyone prepared the house for the night' s festivities. People were shutting all the
blinds and drapes, organizing the beers, liquor and mix in the fridge and freezer, finding and
cleaning a small mirror, and clearing off the dinning room table. I decided to take a minute
to collect my thoughts. I started flipping through the channels with the remote as I drank a
beer. An attractive adolescent female who looked about my age caught my eye, and I tuned
in. I turned up the volume and understood that she was trying to convey her unconditional
love to her boyfriend. For a span of seconds, I felt anxious and nauseous; automatically, in
defense, my darkness won over and my discomfort was overridden by anger and derision.
Unconditional love? Bull***t. I angrily pushed the power button on the remote. There
would be no need for that tonight.
If anybody would have asked me about my reaction to the scene I would have
rationalized that I was disgusted because love was not real, that it was an illusion, especially
unconditional love. Love for me, was a biochemically induced state not so different from
being high on drugs. Besides, from my perspective, within our society, all the love that I had
seen and experienced was selfish and always contractual; never unconditional.
I got up and looked around and I was pleased to be at Miller's place. I was in the
mood to be social and the guys I was with were good people in my eyes. They were genuine,

38
free of pretense, and lived an anti-social lifestyle and I respected that. It was a far cry from
being in a mall, for example, where there was the constant sense that I would never fit in.
We all sat around the wooden table in the dining room. There we spent several hours
snorting coke, smoking pot, and drinking beer. We all took turns passing the mirror around.
We were all talking quickly and there was an air of euphoria. We did not do anything
remarkable but just "trip" in an altered state of awareness where even simple things can be
fascinating. For example, I was put in charge of refining the coke from rock into powder
form. I took a fifty-dollar bill and crushed the coke chunks underneath with a credit card. I
then chopped the remaining pebbles into a fine powder using a razor blade. We were
fascinated by how fast my hand was performing the chopping motion. We were pedantically
arguing two different hypotheses. We were not sure if what we were seeing was a perceptual
illusion from the drugs, or, if the speed with which I chopped was merely physical
enhancement from the cocaine stimulant.
Suddenly I was feeling really high and I remembered that Damon, Adam, and I had
ingested several grams of magic mushrooms about an hour earlier. I began to laugh
excessively and Damon knew what was going on. It was time for the three of us to go for a
walk. All three of us had started peaking on the psychedelic mushrooms. The fresh cool air
of the spring night was invigorating and we felt invincible. We spent hours wandering the
streets hallucinating and frolicking as if we were children. We found ourselves in a park and
spend a considerable amount of time playing on the equipment. We were drinking beers that
we brought for refreshment.
It was soon after we tired of the playground equipment that we faced the challenge of
the "insurmountable mountain". It was a cliff of sorts, very steep at around seventy-degree

39
incline. We spent what seemed like several hours on that mountain just trying to climb it. It
was one of the biggest challenges, yet funniest at the same time, that we would face. For
instance, I would be resting about halfway up, when Damon would ask for a hand up. I
would try and pull the gargantuan up but what resulted was both of us tumbling to the
bottom. With the three of us helping each other, it took a long time for us to scale the beast.
Once at the top we had an impromptu celebration for succeeding at such a difficult task. It
would be several weeks before we discovered that the "insurmountable mountain" was a
small hill about fifteen feet tall.
We left the park, with no particular destination in mind, flying high from the success
of our mission impossible. Adam brought our trudging to a halt, "Hey, guys look at this," he
said in a concerned tone. He was looking at his reflection on the glass wall of a bus shelter.
The street lamp above was powerful enough to tum the glass into a good reflector. The three
of us stepped up beside each other to share in the investigation.
"Are you seeing what I see?" I asked.
"What are you seeing?" asked Damon in an excited tone.
"We're all dead" I replied in awe, "We' re all zombies!"
Damon laughed his usual insane cackle and moved in closer for a better look.
We were all somehow sharing in the same macabre vision of that reflection and loving it.
We all looked like we were corpses. Our faces were decayed, pale grey with black areas,
hollow sunken in eyes. It looked as if somebody had painted our faces like Halloween
masks. That night we took it as a sign of our power, our acceptance by the dark forces; now I
see it as a reflection of what was hidden on the inside without love or light.

40

As we were walking down the street the feeling of superiority and invincibility was
overwhelming. Damon decided he was no longer going to walk around the parked cars on
the street. The 250-pound steroid monster walked over the cars stepping on the bumper first
then on the hood stomping massive dents and shattering windshields from front to back with
his hard-soled boots. Adam and I were laughing so hard and were so intoxicated that we
could barely walk. I started to tire out and took turns leaning on Damon and Adam for
support. We were not in a hurry to get anywhere but I was genuinely surprised not to hear
the sound of sirens as we continued our out of control spree.
At one point in the odyssey, we found ourselves in the outskirts of a rural
neighborhood. It was approximately three in the morning yet I had no real sense of time in
the altered state of consciousness I had induced. It was as ifl had lived forever, yet at the
same time, I found myself in this corporeal experience where time flew by. Nothing seemed
real. As we continued our travels, we accidentally found ourselves outside a small church.
"Let's go inside!" Damon offered in a sinister tone.
"I'm burning out," I voiced my protest.
"Just for a little while." Damon insisted
Adam agreed with Damon. Adam tried to get in through the doors but they were all
locked. Adam then tried to kick the side door open several times but to no avail. The
massive Damon stepped up and with one potent kick smashed the door off its frame. There
was no alarm and nobody inside so we decided to explore.
I was in the moment of decay. It was the chemical come down that caused the
surfacing of repressed emotions and memories that haunted me. I had no chemical or
psychic energy left to repress my emotional pain. I was also feeling nauseous as if I had had

41

too many beers. I stumbled into the dark structure and saw the pews on the left and the altar
on the right. I quickly headed for the pews and lay down. I was starting to feel really sick.
Damon and Adam had excitedly gone up to the altar and I could hear them snooping around
up there. I closed my eyes for a few moments and I when I looked up I saw Damon wearing
vestments. I could not help but laugh, especially with the insane look on his face . Adam had
found several bottles of wine and was drinking from a bottle. Damon by memory alone
began the invocation of Satan as he tore the pages out of a bible, "In the name of Satan the
ruler of the earth, the king of the world, I command the forces of darkness to bestow their
infernal powers upon me. Open wide the gates of hell and come forth from the abyss to greet
me as your brother and friend .... "
I could have stopped it all. However, I decided not to.

There was a god who made

children starve, the god who gave blight, suffering, and hardship to innocent people. No, I
would not stop the desecration. I had done my best to be a good Christian in the past and
suffered for it while the ignorant and sinners were rewarded and were granted a good life.
That for me was unforgivable. I lay back down on the pew and focused on the hatred
burning in my chest as a welcome alternative to the nausea. Suddenly, I could hear Damon
and Adam laughing.
"Andyman, Look! Look!" Damon called excitedly. I could not resist the sheer joy
in his voice. I lifted my weary body and saw both of them walking in a circle urinating on
the altar. I began to laugh-- sardonic, bitter and cutting. It was more representative of hatred
and anger than humor. I then decided to do something I have not done for many years.
Earlier in my life I had vowed that I would never cry or pray ever again. This time, however,
I allowed myself an exception. I told god what I thought of him. I also made a promise that

42
one day his reign would end, if not by my hand, then by someone like myself. I did not
know back then that this promise would soon to be realized. I lay back down and
surrendered to the demons that I had no more power to repress. They were drawing me in,
magnetically pulling me to the edge of the cliff that fell down to the pit of my unconscious.
Just as I started to fall into the chasm, I had a sleep startle and opened my eyes. I
could hear the rummaging in the kitchen again. My head was still throbbing and my body
still ached. As I drifted offback to sleep, I had not figured out if what I just remembered was
real or just a dream.

43
Story 4: Cognitive Therapy
The cheerful banter of the CBC radio roused me from my deep slumber many hours
before I had to get up for work. I could tell that it was a beautiful summer morning. It was
so bright in my room that the white walls and thin white curtains of my room seemed to
shimmer with inner luminosity. My heart sang with gratefulness for the bright light because
it chased the remnant shadows of my past that had managed to sneak out and surface while I
was sleeping. I effortlessly rolled out of my bed and quickly got dressed and headed to the
kitchen for my morning dose of caffeine. I felt good and I was eager to get started on my
early morning meditation, which began with a walk.
As I walked down the stairs of the hallway in my apartment, I contemplated the
objectives of this walk. The first objective was transcendental while the other more
mundane. The mundane component of the walk was that I was utilizing it as a fat burning
exercise. I was proud to work as a personal trainer and manager for a gym, which was
owned by a family ofbikers. The transcendental reason was to take stock of my life and
think about where I had come from, how far I had come, and where I wanted to go. My
intention was to perform a dynamic style meditation, something I had been practicing for
many years now, in order to contemplate my life.
My eyes stung, making me have to squint as I stepped out into the bright sunshine.
With my first step outside, I consciously took in a huge breath savoring the exquisiteness of
the fresh and cool morning air. I purposefully took several more breaths and savored each
one until my body desensitized to the fleeting experience. For me there was nothing better
than the first breath taken outside in the early morning. I felt happy and I felt satisfied.

44
"I have come a long way," I thought, as I turned on my mp3 player and began the
journey. Within minutes, supported by the perfumed air and lush green surroundings, I was
in a trance. I barely noticed the occasional vehicle that passed me by on the residential
streets as I followed the twists and turns that would take me to the river. I did take the time,
however, to admire the beautiful gardens and floral arrays presented by the different homes.
At the appropriate point I walked in behind some houses and began the descent down a
rugged and steep cut bank in order to get down to the river trails. I could feel my awareness
changing as I got closer to the rivers body, getting more clearer, focused, and calm. Again, I
consciously took some time to savor the fleeting initial experience of the lush riverside air.
Having arrived at my destination, I began my life analysis at mid-elementary school
because anything earlier than that was still no-man's land for me. A lump forms in my
throat as I begin to think about how my parents and peers rejected me, how I was bullied, and
how I had lived a life of existential poverty-- poverty that went beyond just the material
realm. Through hard work and an exceptional capacity to endure pain and suffering,
however, I had been able to change my stars. I was physically strong and I was able to get
respect through that, but for me it was empty and fruitless, because I knew it was respect
based on fear. Eventually, I had became so anti-social that I forgot that being that way was a
means to an end, for survival, and not an end in itself. I shook my head in wonder as I
contemplated whether it was by luck, or circumstance or both, that I had begun exploring the
wisdom traditions of the world. The wisdom traditions that advocated that individuals
discover God for themselves through exploring and challenging what we take for reality were
particularly appealing for me. Consequently, for the last eight years I had been meditating,
literally every day, as well as voraciously reading texts and practicing techniques from the

45
various traditions. Through my study of the wisdom traditions, I was able to get a more
balanced understanding of my life and myself; however, this had little impact on my
continuing bouts of depression. What also helped me was that I started reading university
textbooks on psychology and sociology, particularly psychology, as it is traditionally
speaking "the study of the soul". In particular, I found that cognitive psychology melded
seamlessly with my spiritual practices, indeed, augmenting the process of spiritual
development. For instance, the spiritual practice of mindfulness blends well with cognitive
therapy. Most importantly, however, cognitive therapy had allowed me to overcome
depressional reality constructions for the past few years. I knew I had a long way to go
before I could say that I had fully transcended the traumas of my past. Nevertheless, I was
able to gain new understanding of who I was and to realize that my childhood and adolescent
experiences were not my fault. I realized that I was not a flawed human being and that that
horrible idea stemmed from very dysfunctional core beliefs relating to who I was.
Through the study of the wisdom traditions I had realized that the overt details of the
traditions were different; however, the core structural features were the same. Culture puts a
face on God and provides God's details, I thought. The same can be said about an individual
and his/her environment. If the person is not taught otherwise, the person, for better or
worse, can allow the environment to define his/her personal value and characteristics.
I began to walk faster as my focus intensified. The greenbelt beside the river that I
walked through is right beside the town; nevertheless, I savored the feeling that I was alone
in the middle of nowhere. My attention turned to my current employment. I loved working
as the manager and personal trainer of a gym. Although I had quit using steroids several
years ago, through hard work, I had been able to maintain all my size and strength.

46
Furthermore, my years of experience and study of the science of bodybuilding had allowed
me to gain enough knowledge that I had a solid reputation, even for training others to
compete in competitions.
Working at the gym had been the ideal setting for me the last couple of years for all
sorts of reasons ranging from, once again, the mundane to the transcendental. On the
transcendental side, the gym had afforded me the privilege to meet two individuals, one a
male and one a female, who became mentors for me. Both were elders, so not only did I
learn much wisdom from them but I also received from these two individuals the healing
effects of unconditional positive regard. On the mundane side, working at the gym afforded
me a great social life. My shift started at two p.m. and ended at ten p.m. , Monday through
Friday, so this allowed me to socialize till three or four a.m. every night, and still allowed me
to get enough sleep to function at work. Although I had mellowed in my resentment of
society and people in general, my inner circle of friends and I preferred to get away as much
as possible, and consequently, we partied in the bush doing as we pleased in the solitude.
Nevertheless, I also had a committed social life in the downtown bar scene during the
weekends.
I shuddered as I remembered how I used to "party". The heavy use of hard drugs and
alcohol were merely an escape from the pain. I sneered sarcastically as I corrected my own
thinking. The drug use was not an escape from my pain but just an alteration of it. The
drugs provided a lull from the pain of everyday reality but gave me a different kind of pain in
exchange. The altered state of the pain was a welcome break at that time.
If I were lucky, there would be a blackout or blurring of the pain so there was a lull from it
that way as well. Again, I shuddered as I remember how lost I was inside myself. At this

47
point I had stopped using hard drugs and rarely drank alcohol. I marveled in wonder at my
remarkable ability to stop using drugs cold turkey. I did still like to smoke small amounts of
marijuana when I got off work and went out. My limit was two or three puffs of a joint in a
night, which was nothing compared to what I used to smoke. I was very glad to be out of
that phase of my life. You could not pay me all the money in the world to relive that
experience, I thought to myself. I was grateful for the new friends that I gained who led a
more balanced lifestyle than the individuals I used to hang out with.
I turned the corner and saw a young woman walking towards me on the same path
and I reflexively squeezed my abdominals in a half-flexed condition. I was pleased with the
serendipity of the moment; the sun is in front of me on the horizon, thus, accentuating the
definition in my chest, thighs, and abdominals. I felt an involuntary surge of pleasure as she
greeted me with a flirty gaze and smile. I smiled back with a friendly grin but kept on
marching foreword not wanting to lose my contemplative momentum. "Wow!" I marveled,
as I considered how my self-confidence and social life had changed so dramatically.
After walking for approximately forty minutes, I decided I would have a 'stillness
style' meditation. I chose a shady spot that overlooked the river. I leaned back against a
giant cottonwood tree and slowly closed my eyes appreciating the coolness of what was
going to be a very warm day. I felt the stillness of meditation settle over my mind and body.
I could feel my "Self' which is defined as "pure consciousness", pulling away from my
"mind" defined as the contents of consciousness. This experience is like watching clouds
float past in the sky, except it is my consciousness watching the contents of my mind. I
could see my mind having its normal thoughts, but the thoughts seemed distant, floating by
because my consciousness is not identified as the thoughts. I loved the experience of

48
meditation. Within minutes, I could feel my body' s endorphins and as they released I sank
deeper into peacefulness and pleasure.
Suddenly, I saw an image develop in the back and center of my forehead, subjectively
feeling distant from the contents ofthe mind. My heart jumped slightly in response to the
unusual experience, but years of meditation had made me skilled and disciplined, and my
physiology resumed its relaxed rhythm. The image was of a different quality than my
thoughts yet I could not describe how it was different than a regular thought other than it was
more abstract and carried much more information. I consciously connected to the image and
I felt my heart opening which was an experience that was still rare for me. The image was a
bright circle of white light in the centre, with lines and dots and geometric shapes all around.
I basked in the feeling of love as the feeling overflowed beyond my opened heart and all
around my body. I started to ' download' information from the image and I understood that
the image was about unity and how all things that exist are one from one source. More
specifically, in the trance I could understand that the circle represented Source, or God, and
the other symbols like dots and lines and triangles and squares represented all other things
that exist. No matter what the shape, color, or size of the phenomenon, all come from source
and that means that all things in existence are divine. All things are limitless potential, in
other words, God, under the influence of limitation. Thereby through the nature of finiteness,
we are God formed into specific manifestations, all valuable and all worthy. I refocused on
the feelings oflove and felt a great sense of joy. I stayed there at the riverside in that
meditation for as long as I could, hoping that through osmosis or some other miracle that I
could embody this knowledge that I was experiencing. I had encountered this knowledge
many times before in various versions through various texts. However, this was the first time

49
that I experienced it as I did. This was the first time that this knowledge had become
experiential.
I delighted in the experience, so much so, that I lost track of everything else wishing
to stay in that slice of heaven forever. Suddenly, without warning I saw another image that
was dreadful compared to the first one and it was superimposed over the first image. In
appearance, it was similar to a Rorschach inkblot and I could perceive that it was some type
ofblack beast, dead and impaled on a black spike. There were many levels of information to
the images and I intuited the next level of information: "IT IS DONE!". I was confused for
the next few moments.
"What is done?" I thought. I heard myself gasp as the next level of meaning
downloaded into my consciousness. It is done, I thought, as I began to remember a vow that
I had made in the past. I had made a vow to God in a church that one night that He would
fall and it would be the end of His reign of terror. Now I had just done that. I realized that I
had destroyed that God because that God was an illusion; an illusion created in childhood
and taken as real for a lifetime. I felt pain and grief in my chest as I realized all the pain and
suffering I had experienced regarding God was also an illusion. I quickly let that go instead
and focused on my newfound freedom that came from the new realization and experience of
God. This new conception of God that I had taken literally years to build was completely
different from my childhood conception. My new conception of God was that God is loving,
merciful, and everything. This had to be the way it is because we are born of this God, the
oneness that the wisdom traditions speak of. God does not forsake or damn any person

because we are all a piece of God. I could feel tears puddle in my eyes as I let myself
surrender to the moment. Those beautiful tears of joy washed away almost twenty years of

50
living in fear in that moment alone. The image of the impaled beast faded and the original
image remained. I could now feel a deeper love and appreciation of that image. Sitting there
under the cottonwood tree I was filled with so much gratitude and love that I wanted to get
up and shout it from the rooftops. I knew better than to do that though and I contained
myself until I could share it with someone close to me. "We are all okay," I beamed, "and
we are all innocent."
Suddenly, I startled as I heard rapid movement and then felt a big cold nose sniffing
at my ear and neck. I couldn't help but laugh and fall away from the offending breath that
accompanied the cold nose. I opened my eyes to see a yellow lab running back to his owner
who had not yet seen me from behind the tree. That was my sign to get up and resume my
walk. I stood up, decided to warm up again, and began to stretch pleasurably. It was as if I
was experiencing my body for the first time, and for once, I liked what I felt. I resumed my
walk and I was grateful that the temperature had risen significantly since the time that I first
set out for my walk. I had not realized how chilly it was in the shade. I felt good, and I felt a
peace that I do not remember ever feeling before.
Unfortunately, I was not able to incorporate or become the knowledge of that
experience as I had hoped. Rather it was the start of an odyssey, a new one, where it would
take years of life's vicissitudes for me, to come to grips with my new understandings.
However, none of that mattered because in my heart, I knew that I had finally found a God
that I could fall in love with, and She is magnificent.

51
Cognitive Restructuring
It was a typical Saturday afternoon when I first realized something was terribly

wrong. My beautiful fiance , also a student, was typing a research paper that was due in a
couple of days. I felt that I was living a good life and had come a long way compared to my
humble beginnings. I was working on my master's degree in order to become a certified
counselor, a career that would allow me to feel that I was making a difference in the world or
at least in some person's life. Overall, I had a sense that my life could not be any more
perfect. I had finished the bulk of my homework and readings earlier in the morning so I had
taken the liberty of having a bodybuilding workout in my home gym. Knowing the
importance of hydration, I made sure to ingest plenty of liquids throughout the workout.
Once I had finished the workout, as is human nature, I had to return the liquids back to their
source. As I was urinating, I felt a sharp but dismissible pain in my left testicle. I was not
concerned but I palpated reflexively. I was not certain but my testicle felt a little bit bigger.
"Bah! It's nothing," I said to myself as I finished in the bathroom, "I'm probably just
producing more testosterone".
Minutes later, I was walking between the kitchen and living room as I cooked my
lunch. I conversed with my fiance about random unimportant topics as I competed with the
research paper for her attention. "I think I am producing more testosterone," I said to her.
"That's nice honey," she says absentmindedly as she focused on her work.
The humor of the situation was not lost on me and I chuckled as I turned to head into
the kitchen. Without warning, I had a very unusual experience. I heard a deep and ominous
voice from behind me, as if it was the voice of devil himself, coming from the opposite side

52
of where my fiance was working. I heard only one horrible word from that ominous voice
but it was enough to leave me chilled to the core: "CANCER!"
I stopped in mid stride both confused and alarmed. Was this a joke? I looked over my
shoulder and there was nobody there. I looked over my other shoulder and my fiance was
still at the computer typing her paper. Apparently, I was the only one who heard it.
Involuntarily, my body, knowing the potential consequence, declared its protest with a
sinking feeling in my stomach and a rush of cold sweat. Suddenly, I was not so hungry
anymore and I decide that the best way to cope with this situation is to get some balance
through meditation. Meditation is my ground and my sanctuary and my positive addiction
and first resort in crisis rather than drugs or alcohol as in the past.
I laid down in my bed and in moments, I was in a deep meditative state. It is a state
where I can disconnect my consciousness from my mind, thereby, grounded in my being and
faith rather than the vicissitudes of my mind's meanderings; I can have the ability to be
objective about my situation. The process of that state is phenomenal. I can feel myself
floating up or down, I cannot tell which, but it is if I am putting distance between one part of
myself and another.
When the shift has been achieved, I can look at what is going through my mind. In
this case, I could see my mind was racing in panic. There was fear of dying, the fear of what
will happen to my fiance, to my family, and my loyal dog. I was not afraid of what comes
after death but rather of the process of dying. Cancer can be horribly painful. Would I waste
away in front of my friends and family, turning from a virile young man into a husk of a
human being? I would not let myself or others go through that. If it came to that I would
find a way to quicken the process and die with my preferred form of dignity.

----------

~-

----

-

-

-

-

-

-

53
All this and more went through my mind and I had not even seen a doctor. In my
meditative state, I can observe all these thoughts tracing through my mind in a slowed
fashion and without the anxiety or emotion that would be associated to the particular
thoughts. I was the objective observer the Yogis talk about and I was grateful for this skill
more than I had ever been before. I looked inside myself to find my own answer before I let
my mind get too far ahead of itself. I went into the place of stillness the yogis call the void.
This is the place from which everything sprang from and the place to which everything will
return. I looked for an answer and I waited for the silent knowing that would confirm or
disconfirm my diagnosis. The answer came to me quickly, and there was no doubt about it; I
had cancer.
In that state, I shored up my spiritual and cognitive skills and resources to put my
mind at ease. From that meditative state, the mind has no choice but to listen, to acquiesce to
the higher form of knowing. We are spiritual beings having a physical experience, not the
other way around, I reminded myself. I have faced and overcome many challenges, I
thought, and all of them, no matter how horrible, have been a gift in disguise; this situation is
no different. I must do what the yogis would do and surrender to the river of life without
judgment and without fear. "Besides, you haven't had a diagnosis," my mind chimed in,
placated but coping with denial of what was already confirmed.
I was hungry again so I got up and out of bed to finish cooking my lunch. I began
using my cognitive skills as I was making my lunch. I watched closely for automatic
thoughts and cognitive distortions and made sure the thoughts I was having were rational and
adaptive. It took some effort to reconcile my inner knowing diagnosis and the fact that many
would see that as the "fortune teller" cognitive distortion. Getting up out of the meditation, I

54
noticed that the world looked different. In fact, it was qualitatively different on every level
of experience. Colors looked brighter and I had a new appreciation for everything that was
in my life. I looked at my fiance and my heart melted as I realized how much I loved her and
what a miracle she was. I went to her, hugged her, told her that I loved her, and did the same
for my dog. I blessed and thanked the beautiful house that has been my sanctuary for the last
five years. I could not make an appointment with my doctor until Monday so I made the
commitment to enjoy the weekend as if it was my last, and I did.
I did not tell anything to my fiance because I know she would be crushed. When
Monday came around, I awaited for the opportune moment to make the call to book an
appointment with my doctor.
"Hello, can I make an appointment with the doctor" I asked.
"What is this for?" she asks
"I have found a lump on my testicle."
"Okay, but we are not taking any more bookings until Thursday," she told me.
TICK TOCK TICK TOCK. Again, I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach followed by
horrible cold sweat. For the first time I begin to comprehend the gravity of the issue of
waitlists in the Canadian medical system. I never imagined that it was an issue that would
touch my life but, "Thursday is fine," I replied. Again, I shored up my spiritual and
cognitive resources. I realized that now more than ever I must be the objective and rational
observer. I examined the preconscious automatic thought that brought on the kick in the
stomach and cold sweat. The automatic thought was simply that I would be terminal before I
even saw a doctor. I went through the thought investigation process and instantly felt better.

55
My life did not miss a beat. I kept on working and kept going to graduate school. If
anything, my quality of life had improved. It is true what they say that we do not truly
appreciate what we have until we lose it or may be about to lose it. My mind kept telling me
that I have not even had the diagnosis, but deep inside I know the truth, my inner knowing
has never misguided me.
Thursday rolled around and I was waiting in the doctor's office. I was surprisingly
calm and grateful that I even had the opportunity to see a doctor. I was keenly aware of the
tragic fact that many people in this world do not have that luxury. The examination itself
took seconds.
"I don't like what I am feeling," he says, "It is that hardness that concerns me."
"We will schedule you an ultra sound, to get a better understanding of what this

is"

he says.
"How long will that take?" I ask cautiously.
"About six weeks" he replied in that matter of fact tone with which doctors are so
skilled with.
TICK TOCK TICK TOCK.
The doctor must have seen something in my reaction because he said "There are two
routes we can take and we will put a bid in for both and take the quickest one."
He has been my doctor for many years and he is the exemplar of a good physician. I was
very grateful to have him in my comer. He has seen me and helped me from the time I was
living a living death to now when my life is on track and I am on my way to being a
counselor contributing to society rather than derogating it.

-- --- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - .

56
My life still did not skip a beat and I still had said nothing to anybody about my
potential condition. Every week that went by, I was trying to live my life to the fullest. I had
low moments; however, meditation or exercise or both quickly remedied those. At the end of
the second week after seeing my doctor, I got the phone call to go get the ultra sound.
"Thank God," I think to myself. "A two week wait is a far cry better than six
weeks."
The ultra sound was early in the morning in the hospital. Things seemed
extraordinarily surreal yet very real at the same time. To me, the doctors and nurses in their
white outfits looked like ghosts floating down the hallways, while the patients looked heavy
and earthbound. Sitting there in the waiting room, I was more anxious than I had ever been
about my situation to date.
I was called into a room, and asked to put on one of those famous hospital gowns;
only worse yet I was supposed to put it on backwards! An attractive young female doctor
was set to do the examination. Still there is no thrill in this situation. I was talking with her
about my situation and asking questions and she denied everything.
"Oh, it might not be cancer" she said. "Even if it is we have an excellent urologist
here in town."
I could see through her feigned optimism. She was going to follow protocol and let
the technicians analyze the ultra sound and then let my doctor tell me the news. I could tell
she had seen this before; something in her communication gave it away. I could hear it loud
and clear: "Boy, you've got cancer!"
I thanked the doctor and left the hospital. I was able to keep my composure until I
got about three quarters of the way home. At that point, I pulled off into a greenbelt where I

57
could have some privacy and I started to cry. This was the first time that I had been able to
cry since I made a vow not cry ever again in my childhood. I had tried to cry in the past
before this point in time, but had never been able to do so. Now, I would be the objective
observer but I would also honor my humanity; it was the least I could do for myself. Was
this the first burgeoning of true self-love?
I arrived home and told my fiance what had been occurring. Again, everything
seemed surreal, as I had to tell the one I love that I might have cancer. I did not tell her that I
knew definitively. I decided to let her down gently as possible. We both cried in each
other's arms as I told her what was going on. She told me that no matter what happened she
was there for me. I was wishing that I could tell her the same.
Days later, I got the phone call to go in and talk to my doctor. I was not surprised
when he said "Not good, there is a tumor. .. it has formed a vessel and its own blood
supply ... "
I do not remember the rest. I remember being referred to the town urologist, the
urologist the ultra sound doctor was talking about. My appointment was set for a week and a
half from the day of confirming my diagnosis.
Over those ten days, again, my life did not miss a beat; however, I did have some
unusual experiences. One night I decide to have some blueberries and cream. It is dessert
but it is relatively good for you, so I was generous with the sugar I sprinkled on top. I had a
big bowl and could not resist having another. Soon after I finished, however, I could feel
activity in my tumor.
"You moron, I thought," as I remembered that tumors thrive on glucose. TICK
TOCK TICK TOCK. For the next hour or so, I sat there in horror virtually feeling the tumor

58
growing inside me. Although normally I avoided focusing on that area, I did examine myself
that night and found that the tumor was considerably bigger than the last time I had checked
weeks ago.
One day after a meditation, I got up out of bed, sat down on my couch, and turned on
the television. Immediately, I heard the words "welcome to the human network". It was a
cellular service commercial and I am not sure if it was the first time I noticed the commercial
or if they had just started playing the commercial. The synchronicity was not lost on me. I
was a man discovering my humanity through my crisis and through that finding my
connection to all other people.
The most significant thing that happened to me was my change of heart and mind.
All my life I have been a perfectionist willing to go to any extreme to achieve what I valued.
It did not matter what I did to my body or future because I had minimal self-acceptance or

self-love. Even though I had overcome much hardship and many obstacles in my life, a part
of me still felt like, and still was that victimized child that was rejected by everybody. My
fiance had once commented that she wished that I could look at myself the way that I looked
at her. We actually went to the mirror so I could see what she meant. The difference was
remarkable. When I looked at her, my eyes are open, soft, and full of unconditional love and
acceptance. When I looked at myself, my eyes became harder, colder, and steelier, as if I am
looking at a stranger. Now however, I began to question all my previous judgments. Why
did I judge myself so harshly? Why did I judge others so harshly? I am a perfect and
innocent human being, just like all other people.
At one point during the week, I made the decision to go online to find out how this
type of cancer was treated. I was horrified when I found out the best-case scenario was a

59
"radical orchidectomy." That is "doctor speak" for complete removal of the testicle. I had
visions going through my mind, strange as they were, of how the surgery might look. I had
visions of those paper cutters that schools used to have when I was a kid, that have a large
blade on pivot that you bring down with a chopping motion. OUCH! After such visions, I
was relieved to find out that everything is removed from an incision in the lower abdomen.
The day that I saw my urologist was on a Friday. He told me the surgery was
scheduled for the next Monday. TICK TOCK TICK TOCK. The clock was ticking fast for
an entirely different reason now. I did not imagine things would move so quickly. I could
not imagine living life with one testicle; then again, it really was no big deal. I had to keep
things in perspective and hope that the cancer had not spread to any other part of my body.
The doctor mentioned that they would find out for sure what type of cancer it was after the
biopsy. There was a glimmer of hope. Were they just taking a tissue sample? No, my hopes
were dashed as I was informed that the biopsy is the removal of the testicle. I could not help
but cry.
The weekend flew by all too quickly. I savored and was grateful for every moment
and was gentle with myself even when I made mistakes. I was really starting to understand
what self-acceptance and self-love are. I had never imagined that I could respond to myself
with such gentleness. The love and support that I received from my fiance in those days was
angelic. Maybe things would work out after all.
The day of the surgery came and went quickly. The surgery was in the morning and I
was grateful not to have to wait all day. I went in and checked in and I was given a pill to
help me relax. I don't remember much from there. The anesthesia and Demerol, thankfully,
clouded my memory of the experience for the next couple of days. I do remember waking up

60

from the surgery and being sent home. Go figure, it was day surgery! The next morning I
was scheduled for the MRI and blood work that would determine if the cancer had spread. I
do not remember much of this experience. Again, thank God for Demerol.
The first few days, I made sure not to look or touch down there. I did not have the
courage. But eventually I did and it was not so bad. The big obstacle in my life at that point
was waiting for the MRI results and blood work to come back. I really did not want to have
to go through chemotherapy. Nobody does, but I'm not sure I could survive it. I was also
informed that if it spread to my chest I might require a dangerous surgery that temporarily
removes the innards from the inside of the body cavity. I'm not sure I could deal with that.
My fiance and I spent a harrowing week waiting to get the results.
About a week after my surgery, I went into the urologist's office, the one who
performed my surgery. He really is the wonderful and competent doctor that I was informed
he was. I'm not saying that because he gave me a second chance at life.
"Best news possible," he said. It was a wonderful gift; the cancer had not spread. I felt the
weight of the world come off my shoulders. The specter of death was still close by however,
as I would have to have an MRI and blood work every six weeks to monitor the return of
cancer. For the next period of my life, I lived life six weeks at a time.
About two years have passed now and things are not so bad. I have married my
fiance and gotten used to being one brick short of a load. I even prance around for my new
wife encouraging her to feast her eyes on "one-ball-lishness". Although it is an experience I
never want to experience again, it has all been worth it. I love others and myself, as I never
have before. For instance, I have stopped bodybuilding, something I have been doing since
around nine years of age for reasons of feeling inadequate. I have never been so skinny and

61
non-muscular, yet I have never accepted my body as I do now. Overall, I am grateful for the
experience because it has allowed me to discover my humanity and the humanity of my
fellow man to a level I may never have achieved otherwise.

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Cognitive Theory
Introduction

The purpose of this section is to provide a synopsis of the information processing
theory of cognition. This theoretical framework will be employed as a vehicle from which to
conduct a theoretical analysis of what may have been occurring cognitively within my
autoethnographic stories. The goal of the analysis is to describe and construct a reasonable
account of what was occurring in terms of the internal workings of my cognitive processes.
Importantly, my goal is not historical or empirical veracity, but rather to generate
theoretically sound interpretations and inferences about what may have been occurring at the
various stages of my life, analyzed from the perspective of the cognitive theory of depression
(Clark, Beck, & Alford, 1999). I hope that this document will help novice counselors and
students who are interested in cognitive therapy but who are intimidated by the seemingly
complex theory. Although I provide only a basic and brief recapitulation of cognitive theory,
this will be sufficient to help interested individuals get a functional understanding of this
theory and practice. It is hoped that applying the theory directly to an autobiographical
narrative will provide a rich platform from which to nourish further understanding of
cognitive theory in a novel way.
Depression is a complex disorder that is thought to have multiple causal factors .
These factors include issues such as loss, inadequate social skills, imbalanced brain function
or chemistry, in addition to cognitive factors (Clark et al, 1999). Cognitive theory does not
discount causal factors outside of the cognitive realm (Young, Beck, & Weinberger, 1993);
however, this is beyond the scope of this work. Symptoms of depression can occur on many
levels. For instance, at the psychological level symptoms include the loss of interest or

63
pleasure in things that a person used to find interesting or enjoyable (Clark et al, 1999).
Other psychological aspects of depression include feelings of agitation and hopelessness.
Accompanying this could be physiological symptoms like insomnia, which is a lack of sleep,
or hypersomnia, which is the condition of needing excessive amounts of sleep. At the social
level depression often results in the depressed person socially isolating him or herself.
Regardless of which symptoms of depression a person may have, the bottom line is that
major depression causes major disruptions in a person's global functioning. Depression also
has a high rate of co-morbidity with other disorders such as anxiety and substance abuse
(Clark et al., 1999). From my autoethnography it is clear that my depression was comorbid
with other issues; however, the analysis will be from the perspective ofbasic depression in
order to avoid complicating an already complicated theory with the theoretical aspects of the
accompanying disorders.
Cognitive Theory of Depression
Beck's cognitive theory is evolutionary in orientation and proposes that the capacity
to process information and form cognitive representations of the environment has been
fundamental to human adaptation (Clark et al., 1999). This means that humans have evolved
the ability to take information provided from both the inner self and outer environment and
make meaning from both sources of information. This meaning-making ability is the
evolved capacity to form conceptual representations of the self and environment. Indeed,
according to this theory, the ability to process information and form conceptual
representations is what separates humans from lower organisms (Clark et al., 1999).
Contrary to the lower organisms, the information processing ability that humans have
evolved allows humans to perceive, assimilate, and elaborate the meaning of experiences.

64

The important point of all this information about human information processing is that the
cognitive theory of depression dictates that individuals respond to what they think about any
given experience rather than responding to the experience itself (Mahoney, as cited by Clark
et al. , 1999). In essence, individuals are not responding to the "actual" event or situation but
rather are responding to what they think and believe about the event or situation.
Consequently, this theory contends that our cognitive constructions (or, in other words,
internal conceptualization) of a phenomenon are at best an approximate representations of
that phenomenon (Clark et al. , 1999). Consequently, because humans are responding to
cognitive representations (rather than the actual phenomenon) there is for individuals the
possibility of dysfunctional consequences, such as depression, when thinking is based on
erroneous interpretations. In other words, faulty information processing is a factor that may
predispose individuals to issues such as depression (Clark et al. , 1999).
According to Clark and his colleagues (1999) a fundamental percept of cognitive
theory is that information processing or meaning-making, occurs on a continuum ranging
from conscious processing to preconscious processing. Information processing through this
continuum results in different degrees of awareness and access to the information that is
being processed. At the conscious end of the spectrum, individuals have a high degree of
awareness and accessibility to the information processing and its contents. Alternatively, at
the preconscious level of the processing spectrum, individuals typically have no awareness or
access to the information processing or its contents.
The conscious end of the processing continuum is slow and effortful in its processing
and evolutionarily is concerned with aspects such as learning, socialization, communication,
and problem solving (Clark et al., 1999). Conversely, on the other end of the continuum the

-

65
characteristics of the preconscious include extremely fast and efficient information
processing (stimulus driven and heuristic/shortcut processing) and is concerned with the
processing of basic survival issues like self preservation, safety, and reproduction. Overall,
within human information processing there is a balance between the speed and efficiency of
the primordial (evolutionarily older) preconscious and the slower but more directed
processing of the conscious end of information processing (Clark et al. , 1999). However, the
speed and efficiency of preconscious processing comes at a significant cost; it must sacrifice
accessibility and accuracy of its information processing, which as will be demonstrated, plays
a significant role in the development of depression.
The Three Components of the Cognitive Model
Within cognitive theory, the cognitive model for depression has three components
that describe the psychological aspects of depression (Beck, Rush, Shaw, & Emery, 1979).
These three components include the concepts of the cognitive triad, schemas, and cognitive
errors.

The First Component: The Cognitive Triad
The first component, the cognitive triad, describes three major cognitive patterns that
are found in depression (Beck et al. , 1979). The first aspect of the cognitive triad associated
with depression is the cognitive pattern of viewing oneself as useless, defective, and lacking
the qualities required to attain happiness or success (Beck, 1972). The second component of
the cognitive triad is the inability of a depressed individual to alter his/her tendency to make
negative interpretations, even if the experience is neutral or positive (Beck, 1972). This
propensity for negative interpretations includes all aspects of an individual ' s information
processing including self, others, and the environment as a whole; essentially his/her entire

66
existence is negative and depressive (Young et al., 1993). The final aspect of the cognitive
triad is that individuals with depression have bleak predictions for the future thus anticipating
horrible consequences and insurmountable obstacles (Beck et al., 1979).
Before proceeding to the second component of the cognitive model for depression, it
is important to point out that a depressed person is constructing cognitive representations of
self and world that are inaccurate, bleak, and unadaptive (Beck, 1972). Indeed, the cognitive
model contends that the emotional issues, virtually nonexistent motivation, and inability to
experience pleasure found with depression are consequences of pervasively negative thinking
patterns (Beck et al., 1979). Essentially, the negative thoughts produce negative affect and
emotions, and even though the negative thoughts are inaccurate, they are experienced as if
they were real (Becket al., 1979). For example, take the person who believes himself to be
unlovable, who in reality has many people who like and love him. This individual believes
his inaccurate thought of unlovability and thus experiences the emotion that matches the
thought. Thus according to cognitive theory the emotions we experience equal the severity
of the thoughts that we construct regardless of the actual accuracy of the thought (Clark et al.,
1999). Consequently, because human beings actively construct their experiences with
varying degrees of accuracy, cognitive theory holds that thoughts are merely hypotheses
rather than facts and should be treated as such (DeRubeis, Tang, & Beck, 2001). This point
of treating thoughts as hypotheses is particularly important within the therapeutic context of
cognitive therapy (DeRubeis, et al, 2001).
The Second Component of the Cognitive Triad: Schemas
According to cognitive theory, a function of information processing is the personal
construction of reality. Implicit within this is that because we personalize our experiences

67

we have the capacity to personalize experiences in an unadaptive manner (Clark et al., 1999).
For individuals, the meanings derived from the information processing of particular
experiences are constructed from what are called schemas (Clark et al., 1999). Schemas are
enduring internal structures (stored information) of previous experiences that are used to
organize new information in a meaningful way, thereby determining for the individual their
idiosyncratic perception of an experience (Clark et al., 1999).
For the cognitive theory of depression the concept of schema explains why a
depressed individual maintains his unadaptive behaviors despite objective evidence that are
contrary to his cognitive interpretations (eg., the Ph.D. candidate who views himself as a
failure). In basic terms, schemas are an individual 's framework of knowledge. This
framework of knowledge or information ranges from the general, such as life philosophy, to
more specific frameworks such as knowledge about fixing cars (Clark et al., 1999). In
essence, we have frameworks for and from all our experiences, which help guide our
behavior. For instance, most individuals have a schema or framework of knowledge, about
restaurants. This framework of knowledge might include the expectation that when you go to
a restaurant that you wait to be seated by the hostess, look at a menu to make selection, give
your order to the waiter and so forth. Indeed, the restaurant schema will guide thinking about
the restaurant experience in other ways as well, in that an individual will be oriented to being
social and jovial rather than thinking about shaving or paying bills.
The concept of schemas is important in the cognitive theory of depression because
schemas represent enduring characteristics within an individual that result in specific
behavioral tendencies, specifically in this case, of interpreting experiences (Beck et al.,
1979). Different individuals will respond in different ways to an experience but an

68
individual will respond in a consistent way to the same experience; schemas are responsible
for consistency of our behavior because they help organize and guide individual behavior
(Beck et al., 1979). The meaning assigned to cognitive representations of an experience is
constructed by filtering some information, thus removing aspects of information, in addition
to adding information through interpretation. Thus, in depression a person is thought to
screen out positive and neutral information and only take in negative information in addition
to making only negative attributions about and interpretations of the experiences they have in
general; all of which are determined by the operations of their schemas (Becket al., 1979).
Importantly, schemas can be restructured, or in other words, individuals can change the
content of the schemas, allowing them to alter their interpretative tendencies and behavior
(Young et al., 1993). This potential to restructure schemas has important implications for
treating depression via cognitive therapy (Young et al., 1993).

In the cognitive theory of depression, all reality construction is thought to be
generated through the interaction of the conscious mind and the preconscious (Clark et al.,
1999). However, for depressed individuals information processing is thought to be influenced
primarily at the preconscious level (Clark et al., 1999). Essentially, it is believed that
dominant maladaptive schemas associated with the preconscious select, abstract, and
elaborate information, thereby determining an individual's interpretation of an experience
(Beck, 1972). What this means is that inaccurate and unadaptive interpretations ofthe
preconscious form frameworks of knowledge (schemas) that are used as a basis for
organizing information and experience about the self and the world. The use of pervasively
negative and inaccurate information to relate to the self and world results in significant
distress on many levels.

69
The Third Component of the Cognitive Triad
The third component of the cognitive model is the concept of faulty information
processing. Faulty information processing (systematic errors in thinking) facilitates the state
of depression through maintaining the depressed individual's belief in his/her inaccurate and
negative perceptions about self, future, and environment (Beck et al., 1979). Nevertheless, it
is important to be aware of the issue that it is not that the depressed person's appraisal of
reality is flawed, but rather, the problem stems from drawing erroneous conclusions from
his/her observations of events (Beck et al. , 1979).
The cognitive model makes the distinction between primitive and mature reality
construction on the basis of cognitive distortions (Becket al. , 1979). For instance, a common
thinking error is to think in terms of absolute dichotomies such as positive and negative. Few
things in life are absolute positive or negative, but rather are shades of grey. However, with
primitive reality construction, such as when an individual construes his experience as
absolutely negative, the emotion that follows reflects his cognition and is as stated earlier
equal in severity to the cognition (Becket al. , 1979). Overall, ten cognitive distortions have
been identified and are used in cognitive therapy (DeRubeis, et al, 2001) employed. The ten
cognitive distortions include ali-or-nothing thinking, overgeneralization, mental filter,
disqualifying the positive, jumping to conclusions, magnification or minimization, emotional
reasoning, should statements, labeling, and personalization (See Appendix 1 for definitions).
Aside from the theoretical relevance of cognitive distortions they also serve a heuristic
function during therapy as they allow depressed individuals a guide to assess if and how they
are engaging in systematic error in terms of their thought process (DeRubeis, et al, 2001 ).
Furthermore, it is important to note that implicit within the preceding is that the cognitive

70
theory of depression predicts that people with depression make predictable errors in their
thinking (Beck et al., 1979).
The Cognitive Model
The next thing one must understand about the function of schemas in the cognitive
theory of depression is the kinds of thoughts produced by dominant negative schemas
through the interacting processes of the conscious and preconscious. The preconscious
produces thoughts that interact with the conscious mind and those thoughts are called
automatic thoughts. Automatic thoughts are defined as the stream of thinking that coexists
with the more manifest conscious stream ofthought (Beck, 1995). Automatic thoughts are
the end product of preconscious processing and schemas. These type of thoughts, because
they come from the preconscious, are extremely fast and brief. Automatic thoughts flash
into awareness with no conscious effort, thereby appropriately obtaining the label of
"automatic". Most individuals are not aware that they have the preconscious stream of
thought. In essence, the rapid automatic thoughts spontaneously flash into consciousness just
beyond the reach of most individuals' conscious awareness. Nevertheless, even though the
conscious mind does not detect the automatic thought the individual's body detects it and
thus the automatic thoughts cause an emotion to be experienced within the body (Beck,
1995).
The fact that automatic thoughts are so fast means that there is no time to evaluate the
validity or the meaning behind the thought (Clark et al., 1999). This factor causes the
emotion caused by the automatic thought to be accepted without question as a valid
interpretation. This uncritical acceptance of the automatic thought is a problem because
automatic thoughts operative in depression are almost always negative and based on

71
cognitive distortions. Automatic thoughts occur in two different forms including verbal
messages and visual imagery. The visual imagery typically is rich in subjective information
that relates to the owner of the thought (Clark et al., 1999).
In depressive thinking there are three distinct types of automatic thought (Clark et al.,

1999). The most common type is a completely distorted thought that is contrary to reality
but still accepted as valid even in the presence of contrary evidence. For example, an
individual may get a B grade on a test and preconciously concludes, "I am a total idiot"
("because I did not get an A"). Obviously, this individual is intelligent. In fact, the grade is
evidence to the contrary of the individual's conclusion; however, maladaptive processing
causes the completely distorted thought to be accepted as valid. The second type of
automatic thoughts are cognitions that are accurate but the conclusion drawn from the
thought is inaccurate. This type of error is based on overgeneralizations (Clark et al., 1999).
For example a person who was not able to keep an appointment has an automatic thought like
"I am useless because I did not fulfill my commitment". The thought is accurate in that he
did not in fact arrive for the appointment; however, the generalization of one failure to his
overall value and capacity as a human being is a monumental overgeneralization. The third
type of automatic thought is accurate but dysfunctional. This type of thought is based on
arbitrary inference (Clark et al. , 1999). For instance, a person who thinks, "My professor did
not call on me therefore I am stupid' is engaging in the third type of automatic thought. The
thought is accurate in that the professor did not call on him but there is no evidence that the
professor thinks that he is unintelligent. What is important to remember about automatic
thoughts is that these thoughts for the majority of individuals are not consciously articulated

72

(Clark et al., 1999). This point is not to be missed as it plays an important role in the
therapeutic intervention process.
Automatic thoughts are not the root problem for depression but are a product of faulty
information processing resulting from dysfunctional generalized schemas. These more
generalized schemas that play a role in depression by producing automatic thoughts are
conceptualized as intermediate beliefs and core beliefs. Core beliefs are fundamental
conceptions individuals carry about their identity, thereby are the most generalized ideas
individuals carry regarding their character or nature. Intermediate beliefs are subordinate to
core beliefs and are actually rooted in individual's core beliefs. Intermediate beliefs are
composed of rules, attitudes and assumptions. It is important to point out that all individuals
have core beliefs and intermediate beliefs. It is the type of information processing that
determines whether an individual's beliefs are adaptive or dysfunctional (e.g. faulty
information processing versus adaptive processing).
There are three types of dysfunctional intermediate beliefs implicated in depression
(Clark et al., 1999). The first type of intermediate beliefs is conditional rules and take the
form of "if then" statements. Common conditional rules in depression are "ifl am criticized
then it means that I have failed", or "if I please this person then she will treat me well".
The second type of dysfunctional intermediate beliefs are called imperative beliefs
and are characterized by words like "should" or "must" (Clark et al., 1999). Examples of this
type of intermediate belief include "I must be loved by everyone" and "I should never make a
mistake". The third type of intermediate belief is classified as compensatory beliefs (Clark et
al., 1999). These beliefs are based on compensatory actions that directly reflect a core belief.

73
For example, if an individual's core belief is "I am unlovable" the compensatory belief may
be "Ifl am not perfect then people will reject me".
Out of the dominant maladaptive schemas, core beliefs are the most generalized type
and are simply defined as rigid, global ideas about one's self. Core beliefs are believed to
come in two basic forms (Beck, 1995) and in depressed individuals, they are expressed as all
encompassing and absolute statements. Examples of the two types of depressive core beliefs
are "I am helpless" and "I am unlovable" (Beck, 1995). Core beliefs are the source from
which all other thoughts and beliefs stem from, in that core beliefs influence the development
of intermediate beliefs, which, in tum influence cognitive products including conscious
thoughts and automatic thoughts. It is important to make the distinction between belief and
thought in that a belief is an enduring internal structure, a schema, as opposed to a thought
whose duration is measured in milliseconds.
Consequently, core and intermediate beliefs can be expressed as a thought but are more
fundamental and enduring.
Implicit within the preceding information, but key to understanding cognitive theory,
is the contention that the cognitive constructions a person creates from and about an
experience are at best, an approximation of that experience (Clark et al. , 1999). Recall that
this theory states that individuals do not actually respond to the experience at hand but rather
to cognitive representations of the experience. In essence, each individual will create a
different representation of a particular experience based on the contents of their schemata.
Importantly within cognitive theory, especially in the therapeutic context, because of the
constructivist nature of our reality construction the adaptivness of thoughts takes precedence
over accuracy in regards to evaluating an experience. The point is that since there is no

74
absolute or "true" meaning that can be attributed to an event or person, therefore we are free
to choose adaptive meaning constructions. Finally, at this point it is also important to note
that all individuals have inaccuracy and inconsistencies in their cognitive constructions that
result from information processing (Clark et al. , 1999).
Depressed and Non Depressed: What is the difference?
As outlined previously, problems such as depression occur when there is a systematic
error in an individual's information processing leading to issues such as processing
information about self in a consistently negative manner. Interestingly, all individuals have
automatic thoughts and cognitive distortions; however, problems such as depression do not
occur in all individuals (Clark et al. , 1999). The state of depression is thought to be avoided
by some individuals, quite simply through spontaneous adaptive responses to automatic
thoughts. For example, take a student who is reading a particularly difficult chapter in their
math text. The student's conscious effortful cognition is focused on reading the text and
trying to integrate and make sense of the information. While reading the text the student gets
an automatic thought such as "I don ' t understand this" which causes an intense feeling of
hopelessness. The student then spontaneously corrects the maladaptive thought with a more
adaptive thought like " but I will get it if I try hard" which eliminates the feeling of
hopelessness. Essentially, the cognitive theory of depression decrees that non-clinical
individuals are both constructivists and empiricists (Clark et al. , 1999). What this means is
that non-depressed individuals actively construct reality but at the same time, on some level,
evaluate the validity and utility of their thoughts and emotions and make appropriate
adjustments when and where necessary (Clark et al. , 1999). Depressed individuals, on the

75
other hand, are thought to be constructivists who do not evaluate or moderate their cognitions
(Clark et al., 1999).
Cognitive Therapy
Fundamental to cognitive theory is that a person's dysfunctional beliefs are learned.
Consequently, the aim of cognitive therapy is to help individuals unlearn dysfunctional
beliefs and replace those beliefs with beliefs that are more accurate and functional (Clark et
al., 1999). Within the system of cognitive therapy the goal of overcoming dysfunctional
beliefs is sought through becoming fully conscious of, and learning how to identify automatic
thoughts (Young et al. , 1993). Importantly, cognitive theory outlines that thoughts and
feelings are considered distinct phenomena and that thoughts create feelings (Leahy, 2003).
Cognitive therapists help clients to become conscious of and to identify automatic
thoughts by teaching them to self monitor for changes in emotion (Leahy, 2003). This is
because, as mentioned previously, automatic thoughts always cause a change in emotion.
The therapist then helps the client learn how to evaluate the contents of the automatic thought
(Beck, 1995). These two steps are not always easy at first, but like anything else, with
practice anybody can develop the skills necessary for effective cognitive management. The
main difficulty in identifying the meaning of an automatic thought lies in the speed of the
preconscious. The speed of the automatic thought makes it difficult for individuals to fully
articulate the thought consciously to themselves (Beck, 1995). For example, a depressed
individual in therapy suddenly feels a change in affect. Feeling anxious, she attempts to
identify her automatic thoughts. A therapist must help clients move from identifying the
automatic thoughts through stating telegraphic or question thoughts, which only reflect the
content of the automatic thoughts, to a deeper awareness of the underlying meaning of the

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automatic thoughts (Beck, 1995). For instance, the client may identify an automatic thought
as "What ifl don't succeed in_therapy?" The key for the cognitive therapist is to guide the
individual to get to the core meaning of the automatic thought, which in this case would be
something like "I am incapable of success". Key to interpreting automatic thoughts is to tum
telegraphic or question thoughts into self referent statements which is the form automatic
thoughts always take (Beck, 1995).
Once the automatic thought has been identified, the next step in cognitive therapy is
for the therapist to teach the client how to investigate the validity and utility of the automatic
thoughts they are having (DeRubeis, et al, 2001). In brief, this process involves evaluating
the thought to see how many cognitive distortions are involved in the thought. This serves to
demonstrate the invalidity of the thought and the errors that are being made in processing
information (DeRubeis, et al, 2001). The next step involves the examination of evidence for
and against the particular automatic thought in terms of the client's lived experience
(DeRubeis, et al, 2001 ). The process of identifying the automatic thought as a cognitive
distortion and the process of not finding evidence in support of the automatic thought helps
the client see through their cognitive error, thus seeing that the thought is invalid or unhelpful
(Leahy, 2003). Next the therapist teaches the client to replace the negative automatic thought
with a more valid and adaptive thought (Beck, 1995). The hypothesis here is that by
directing the attentional resources of conscious thinking to the preconscious and challenging
the unrealistic unadaptive thoughts the unadaptive thought and its effects are cancelled
(Beck, 1995).
This cognitive process provides immediate relief from the negative emotion brought
upon by the automatic thought, which reflects the power of this theraputic approach. In

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essence, when people replace unadaptive thoughts with adaptive cognitions there is an instant
shift to positive affect. For example, take the student who scored a B grade on her exam.
Her automatic thought is "I am stupid (because I did not get an A)." This automatic thought
is followed by a depressive emotion . Having identified the automatic thought, she then
challenges it. She examines the cognitive distortions at play, which non-exhaustively include
all or nothing thinking, overgeneralization, filtering and labeling (Note: it only takes one
cognitive distortion to identify a thought as erroneous). She then looks for evidence in
support of the thought. "In reality does scoring a B indicate stupidity?" The answer is
obviously a resounding "NO!". Evidence against the automatic thought of"I am stupid" is
that a B score is above average performance. The student through challenging and
evaluating the automatic thought then replaces the automatic thought with a more adaptive
and valid observation such as : "Although not perfect, scoring a B indicates above average
intelligence". This correction process instantaneously replaces the depressive emotion with a
more adaptive emotion like satisfaction, pleasure, or even acceptance (Clark et al., 1999).
Essentially, when this individual realizes her cognitive errors and then replaces them with
more useful and accurate thoughts the depressive affect disappears (Clark et al., 1999).
Through first working with and changing automatic thoughts, an individual
subsequently learns about his/her intermediate beliefs and core beliefs. The process of
dealing with these beliefs is the same as working with automatic thoughts ; however, this is
where persistence and patience comes in for successful therapy (Beck, 1995). Intermediate
beliefs are not as malleable or changeable as automatic thoughts but they are easier to change
than core beliefs. The main point however, is that with time persistence, and patience, all
beliefs are changeable. In essence, once an individual's core beliefs are realized, the utility

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and validity is assessed which helps the client to recognize situations where core beliefs are
negatively influencing his/her experience and reactions (DeRubeis, et al, 2001). Awareness
of core beliefs and their utility and validity empowers the individual to consider alternative
hypothesis about oneself or situation that are more adaptive and accurate (DeRubeis, et al,
2001 ). Overall, the more a belief is activated (experienced) the more easy and likely it is to
be experienced again in the future (Clark et al., 1999). Essentially, a biased type of
perceptual fluency results with each activation, with the schema activating more strongly,
more easily, and faster (Clark et al. , 1999). On the other hand, the reverse also applies, in
that if the activation of a belief is avoided or circumvented (i.e. via cognitive therapy), the
belief is less likely it is to be experienced in the future. This situation applies to both positive
and negative thoughts equally. Overall, with schemas it is a "use it or lose it" situation where
the goal is to avoid activation of negative beliefs being experienced, diminishing their power
and availability (Clark et al., 1999). With time and perseverance, full cognitive restructuring
can be achieved and occurs when the unadaptive beliefs are replaced with more accurate
adaptive beliefs at all levels of the cognitive hierarchy (Clark et al., 1999).
Summary
The cognitive theory of depression as developed by Beck (1972), states that
individuals develop depression because they have maladaptive thoughts. Absolute and
pervasive negative thinking about one's self, world and future characterize the maladaptive
thoughts of depression (Beck et al., 1979). The negative cognitions, appraisals, and
perspectives of depression are a result of the primal processing of the preconscious and its
schemata (Clark et al., 1999). For example, a common depressive beliefwhich is an
enduring internal structure, a schema (as opposed to a thought whose duration is in

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milliseconds), is, "I am worthless". These beliefs elicit depressive thoughts, which create
depressive emotions that influence the overall emotional state, physiology, and behavior in a
negative way, leading to the development of depression (Clark et al. , 1999). The changes
brought about create schemas that contain abstractions of experiences that embody feelings
of worthlessness, failure, and loss. The negative affective states of depression are also
characterized by an increased accessibility of the negative maladaptive schemas (Clark et al.,
1999). Essentially, the active depressive schema becomes hypervalent, in that it is easily
activated or "turned on" but difficult to deactivate or "tum off'. The hypervalence comes
about by continual activation of the schema, with each activation making the schema activate
more strongly, more easily, and faster (Clark et al. , 1999). The negative schema performs the
functions of a schema, such as, filtering elements of experience as well as adding additional
information, which in a depressive case is biased towards filtering positive and adding
negative interpretations. Consequently, the schema influences all encompassing negative
behavior for the individual with the depressive schema (Clark et al. , 1999). Fundamentally,
there is a vicious cycle between belief and thoughts, which constructs a thoroughly negative
and depressing reality. The resulting negative cognitions stemming from unadaptive
information processing will critically influence the behavioral affective, somatic, and
motivational states of the individual, and present symptoms of depression across these areas
of functioning (Clark et al., 1999). Treating depression with cognitive therapy involves
teaching depressed individuals to process information like healthy individuals. This involves
the depressed individual becoming both a constructivist, actively creating their experience,
and also an empiricist, thus actively evaluating the validity of their thoughts (Clark et al.,
1999).

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The chapter that follows is an analysis of my autoethnographic stories through a
cognitive lens. I offer this as a reasonable possible account of what may have occurred for
me at a psychological level as seen through the lens of Aaron Beck's (1972) cognitive theory.
To elaborate, the stories in of themselves paint a dramatic picture of significant events in my
life that had significant impacts on my development. Consequently, the stories serve as
concrete and "visible" representations of events and experiences in my life. In contrast to the
events and experiences contained within the stories, the cognitive processes that occurred are
less visible and require informed interpretation to come to reasonable conclusions about the
cognitive phenomena that took place. Through the stories and theoretical synopsis provided,
the intention is to provide the reader with a reasonable construction of a cognitive map
outlining a realistic account of the cognitive phenomena that not only led to my depression
but also to its subsequent defeat.

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Cognitive Process Analysis
In the following section, I present an analysis as a reasonable account of what may

have occurred for me at a psychological level through the lens of cognitive theory. It is not
intended as a definitive statement of causation or etiology. The stories in and of themselves
paint a dramatic picture of significant events in my life that influenced my development.
Consequently, the stories serve as concrete and "visible" representations of events and
experiences in my life. In contrast to the events and experiences contained within the stories,
the cognitive processes that occurred are less visible and require informed interpretation to
come to reasonable conclusions about the cognitive events. Overall, my intention is to
provide the reader with a reasonable construction of a cognitive map that references my
stories and outlines a plausible account of the cognitive components and processes related to
the development and conquering of my depressive thinking. This arrangement is a fitting
means to fulfill the previously stated goal of presenting an alternative, more concrete, form of
learning the power of cognitive theory and therapy through combining the power of
evocative ethnography with more canonical forms of knowing.
The aim of this analysis is not to scrutinize every detail within every story; instead
the aim is to focus on and interpret salient elements that will provide the structure for
understanding, in vivo, the cognitive theory of depression. In order to facilitate the cognitive
analysis, personal subjective interpretation is required to fully illustrate the issues under
consideration. However, this serves to facilitate the goal of this document rather than detract
from it. Further, it is important to understand that within this document the apparent
sequential development of the cognitive components is merely an artifact employed to
facilitate the explanation of the cognitive processes involved.

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Development of Depressive Thinking
Before beginning, the analysis is a brief recapitulation about beliefs and thoughts.
Cognitively there is a hierarchical structuring of beliefs that lead to the quality and
functionality of thoughts that we have. At the top of the hierarchy are core beliefs, which
lead to the development of intermediate beliefs. Both levels of belief influence the actual
thoughts we have at both the conscious and preconscious levels. Recall as well that core
beliefs are believed to form, for the most part, in childhood (often through exchanges with
parents) and are formed through the interactions of primitive processing and personal
experience (Clark, Beck, & Alford, 1999).
There are basically only two kinds of maladaptive core beliefs that underlie
depression (Beck, 1995). Specifically, one kind of core belief is the belief that one is
completely and utterly unlovable, and the other core belief is the belief that one is utterly
helpless in an adaptive fashion (i.e. incapable making friends, holding a job, survival, etc).
With the knowledge that the intensity of a thought or belief will produce an emotion of equal
intensity, it is easy to see why core beliefs can lead to the development of depression ifleft
unchecked. If one contemplates the emotional effect of"knowing" that you are utterly
unlovable, without the mitigating effects of rationality from the conscious mind, we can
easily infer that it is a devastating and painful emotional experience. The psychological
effect is so powerful that it can and does manifest as physical pain. A similar analysis can be
derived from the helpless core belief. Fortunately, however, despite the horrible impact of
these negative core beliefs, for most individuals these negative core beliefs are nothing more
than cognitive constructs and not absolute facts of reality. The next section will analyze

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story one of the autoethnography and demonstrate the cognitive process involved of the
development of my core beliefs.
Analy sis of Story 1

The events described in the first story occurred when I was about four years old, and
is about a family outing that ends in disaster. From this first story, it is clear that the
experiences that I encountered as a child were the type of experiences that typically facilitate
the development of both depressive core beliefs. Nevertheless, it is important to understand
that the development of such core beliefs as being unlovable and helpless are not necessarily
based on qualitatively different or mutually exclusive sorts of events. In essence, an
individual can develop one or both core beliefs from a single event or experience. In my
situation, right from the first story, it is clear that I had experiences that could facilitate the
development of both depressive core beliefs. The rejection from my father, combined with
the trauma resulting from the actions of my mother are all fertile grounds from which to infer
the development of deeply ingrained beliefs that I was both helpless and unlovable.
My Father

This analysis begins with experiences that I had with my father that led to the
progression of my depressive core beliefs. My father is not a major character in the story,
and this reflects how he was not a major character in my life either. Nevertheless, the limited
experiences that I did have with my father were of a caliber to facilitate harmful outcomes.
Within the first story, I briefly outline the cruel fashion with which my father relates to not
only myself, but to the entire family. It was a toxic situation, and within this difficult
context, I remember wondering why my father did not spend time with the family and why
he was so cruel when he did. These childhood musings had disastrous effects because of the

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primitive processing of the pre-conscious. I remember that I concluded that my father was
behaving cruelly because I was unlovable. Further, I remember thinking that I was unlovable
because I was consistently experiencing the horribly painful feelings of being a uniquely
flawed individual. In this situation, I was feeling flawed and like any person, I examined the
feelings of feeling flawed, and erroneously concluded that I truly was flawed as a human
being. In essence, through primitive preconscious processing I was engaging in the

emotional reasoning type of cognitive distortion. Recall that emotional reasoning is the
cognitive distortion that allows an individual to believe that the feeling that they are
experiencing is the truth of the situation. Specifically, in my situation I felt flawed so
assumed that I really was in fact flawed. As a result of the cognitive distortion, I inferred that
this condition of being unlovable was due to being flawed and the reason why my father was
so unkind to me. Thus, over time, through the continuation of negative interactions with my
father and the maladaptive primitive information processing in which I was engaging, I very
rapidly developed a very dangerous thinking style that strongly reinforced the unlovable core
belief.
On the whole, throughout the first story, it is easy to understand how I could believe
that I was unlovable; however, it is not as readily evident as to how I could develop the
helpless core belief. One salient example, however, of how the helpless core belief may have
developed is how with my father, no matter how hard I tried, I could never please him or gain
his approval. Essentially, all my attempts to get him to love and accept me failed and even
backfired, facilitating the unlovable core belief. Over time, however, due to the growing
number of failures associated with father ' s acceptance, the beliefthat I was helpless became
deeply ingrained.

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This situation with my father, through which I learned to believe that I was helpless,
is closely tied to the overgeneralization cognitive distortion . Quite simply, through
preconscious cognitive distortions, the experience of failure that I had incurred in dealing
with my father began to be generalized to many other areas of my life. As a result of this
generalization, I began to be burdened by the underlying belief that I was helpless in terms of
attaining happiness or success in almost all situations. Over time, further aggravating my
situation, was the contributing factor of selffulfilling prophecy effects. Essentially, through
believing that I was helpless, I behaved as if helpless even in situations where I could have
excelled. This led to a deeper level of helplessness because it occurred outside the family
context in the general social context (i.e. with peers). It is clear that harmful environmental
interactions along with my preconscious dominant thinking style led to the depressive core
beliefs.

My Mother
My relationship with my mother was different from that with my father because, at
times, I did feel loved by her. Nevertheless, the interactions I had with my mother also
helped to facilitate and reinforce the unlovable and helpless core beliefs. As one can infer
from the story, my mother at that point in time was in a desperate situation. She was halfway
around the world, away from her homeland and family, and married to a tyrant who did not
care whether his family went hungry or not. Young as I was in the first story, my mother did
not hide her situation from me. Essentially, I was able to fully comprehend and deeply
connect to her desperation and helplessness. After all, as the story demonstrates, my mother
was not skilled in managing or even hiding her emotions. Frequently, she freely shared her
thoughts and emotions regarding the dire situation we were in as a family. During these

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emotional outbursts, I recall feeling my mother's desperation, which was followed by the
desperate need to be of immediate assistance to her. I was a young child and felt completely
helpless to assist her, thus compounding a very generalized sense of helplessness. I describe
it as the feeling of existential helplessness. The only thing I could do or offer to help my
mother was to try to comfort her and offer my affection, which I often tried. However, more
times than not, any attempt I made to comfort my mother in this kind of situation was
callously rejected. These negative interactions with my mother facilitated the development
ofboth depressive core beliefs.
In essence, I experienced the ongoing trauma of exposure to adult issues as a child,

that facilitated the development of the helpless core belief through. The helpless belief,
however, was further reinforced by the kind of thinking that I was engaging in within the
situation. Specifically, I recall making many should statements during those interactions
with my mother. Beck argued that should statements are a form of cognitive distortion
because they are founded in unrealistic or invalid expectations. In my case, I was telling
myself that 'I should be able to comfort my mother' and that ' I should be able to help the
family' , all of which are very unrealistic standards for a child to hold.
Further enhancing the development of the unlovable core belief was that my mother
rejected my attempts at affection. When I was rejected, I would immediately feel the
emotional pain that accompanied the thought that I was utterly unlovable. In this situation, I
was engaging in the all-or-nothing thinking cognitive distortion. I was not seeing the
situation in realistic terms. If I had held a more realistic perspective of my situation, I would
have acknowledged that at times my mother did show me love, demonstrating that I was
loveable. Nevertheless, because of the preconscious dominant processing, for me there were

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no shades of grey in the situation, and no mitigating circumstances; I was utterly unlovable.
Once again, the general pattern that is evident is that I was exposed to harmful situations that
had the effect of creating depressive core beliefs that were subsequently inappropriately
reinforced through dysfunctional and unadaptive thinking.
The rigid and global nature of negative core beliefs, once developed, "colored in" all
of my subsequent perceptions of others, the environment, and myself. Indeed, the global
influence of the negative core beliefs is evident near the end of the story when I reveal my
childhood secret: the belief that I was forsaken by God and punished by God through being
created powerless and unlovable. This dramatic revelation makes it obvious that I have both
developed and integrated variations of both depressive core beliefs.
Overall, the point of this analysis is to demonstrate how I developed negative core
beliefs, thus going from (presumed) functionally adaptive core beliefs (as evidenced by the
adaptive processing in the start of the story), to maladaptive core beliefs. The maladaptive
core beliefs did not manifest only over the time of the story but over an extended period. As
can be inferred, I made a shift from adaptive (or partially adaptive) beliefs to maladaptive
cognitive processing through the effects of continuous exposure to harmful and abusive
situations. Compounding the maladaptive cognitive shift to depressive core beliefs were my
perceptions of my personal experiences through the primitive pre-conscious that resulted in
distorted interpretations (although beyond the scope of this document the preconscious
dominance is developmental in nature).
Now that I have explored the process of how my negative core beliefs emerged
(which laid the foundations for a depressive reality), the section that follows will delineate
the role of the cognitive components (such as schemata) in my personal experiences in more

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detail. Importantly, in the time lapse between story one and two, between four and nine
years of age, it can be inferred that the preconscious maladaptive processing became so
entrenched that it was dominant in creating the "default" schemata from which I experienced
and interpreted life. In essence, due to maladaptive information processing (meaning
making), I developed a default framework (schema) about myself, founded in the two
depressive core beliefs, that delineated that I was utterly unlovable and worthless, while at
the same time, facilitating perceptions of the environment and people in general as
threatening and rejecting.

Analysis of Story 2
Story two takes place during my mid-childhood years and is about a very negative
day in school, when events ultimately led me to inappropriately solve a social dispute
through violence. In the second story, it is quite clear that I had developed some very
entrenched negative schemata that were directly connected to both depressive core beliefs.
Schemas are composed of stored information, about previous experiences, that are used to
organize new information in a meaningful way. Consequently, schemas guide, organize, and
determine the perception and behavior relating to particular experiences (Clark et al., 1999).
Evidence of entrenched negative schemata and negative core beliefs is demonstrated
throughout the second story. For instance, almost all of my thinking was driven by a
negative and depressing perspective. In cognitive terms, it is clear that I had developed a
negative hypervalent schema (characteristic of depressional thinking). This type of schema
is not only very easily activated by a wide range of stimuli but, Clark et al (1999) argue, it is
also resistant to deactivation once activated.

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It is obvious, during this phase of my life, that a negative schema is in operation

because of the dysfunctional thinking. The hypervalence of the schemata, however, becomes
evident later in the mall, where everything was being interpreted as negative and there was
no cessation of negative thinking or perceptions. In basic terms, even though I was in the
company of a friend and at the mall, a situation which normally contains some positive
experiences for most individuals, I was depressed because my schemata were selecting only
negative interperetations.
This issue of schematically selecting only negative interpertations is reflective of
preconcious processing. More specifically, it is the preconcious cognitive distortion called

menta/filtering. Filtering information from the environment is a natural and adaptive
function of our information processing system; however, when individuals consistently filter
out positive and neutral information they are in danger of developing a depressive reality as I
did. Because of my hypervalent negative schemata, I did not notice any of the positive things
that were happening. For instance, in perceiving only the negative in the mall, I did not
notice the kind person who held the door for me or the friendly clerk who smiled.
Furthermore, through the catastrophizing/minimizing cognitive distortion my negative
schemata were being further strengthened and expanded. The strengthening and expansion
occurs via constant activation and via incorporation of negative interpretations to new
experiences. For instance, catastrophizing is thinking that "makes a mountain out of a
molehill." The catastrophizing cognitive distortion was in operation when I tripped and
looked down to see my lace had come undone and then interpreted that as if it was the end of
the world. This negative interpretation of my untied shoelace expanded my negative
schemata because I had never interpreted a loosened shoe lace as a (devastating) negative

90
event previously. Thus, through the negative interpretation via cognitive distortion, I
incorporated another experience as a depressive experience.
Furthermore, during this time of my life the minimization aspect of the

catastrophizing/minimizing cognitive distortion is also in operation. Essentially, I was
engaging in the minimization aspect of this distortion when I was minimizing all my abilities
and potential. Essentially, I saw myself as unable to ever have the things that I could not
afford on that day.
Overall, it is clear that the cognitive triad associated with depression was in full
operation. Firstly, the three cognitive patterns are readily evident: 1) I viewed myself as
useless and lacking qualities required to attain happiness or success (Beck, 1972); 2) I
appeared unable to alter my tendency to make negative interpretations (Beck, 1972); 3) I had
a bleak prediction for the future and anticipated negative consequences and insurmountable
obstacles (Beck, 1972). Secondly, entrenched negative schemata were facilitating a
depressive reality through negative interpretations and behaviors. Thirdly, I was clearly
engaging in faulty information processing. The systematic thinking errors or cognitive
distortions that were in operation facilitated my depressive state through maintaining my
belief in my inaccurate and negative perceptions (Beck, Rush, Shaw, & Emery, 1979). By
the end of the story there is the indication that a dysfunctional intermediate belief was being
formed from a dysfunctional attempt at coping: that if I were physically strong enough, I
could intimidate people into respecting me. The analysis of the next story focuses on
dysfunctional intermediate beleifs.

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Analysis of Story 3
Story three takes place during my teen years and demonstrates dysfunctional coping
through the use of drugs and rebellion. In the previous two stories, I described experiences
that led to the development of dysfunctional cognitive processing. The first story
demonstrates the development of core beliefs, wheras the second story demonstrates the
consequences of the core beliefs. The consequences of the core beliefs were vast in that they
influenced every aspect of my existence including my intrapersonal and interpersonal worlds.
As cognitive theory delineates, intermediate beliefs also encompass our inner and outer
worlds, are rooted in core beliefs, and are composed of the rules, attitudes, and assumptions
to which we subscribe (Clark et al., 1999).
Since the intermediate beliefs are rooted in the core beliefs then logically by
extension they will reflect the qualities of the core beliefs. Recall that the conditional rule
type of intermediate belief often takes the form of "if...then ... " statements (Clark et al.,
1999). By my teen years, it is apparent that I had developed some very dysfunctional

conditional rules. From story three, we can easily infer that the most salient conditional rule
that I was living with was "Ifl stay angry and resentful then I won't hurt so bad". At that
point in my life I remember contemplating this issue of how the respect that I was receiving
from others was based on the fear that they felt towards me. At times I was proud and
relished this, but at other times, I wished it did not have to be that way. Unfortunately for
me, I did not know any other way to be, especially with the crushing weight of the core
beleifs I was carrying which were insidiously sabbatoging my attempts at becoming someone
different. Essentially, at that time, because of my information processing, I was a prisoner
within my own being.

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Another intermediate beleifthat is evident in story three is the imperative belieftype
of cognitive distortion. These are statements employing the terms "should" or "must" and
they usually are charecterized by a rigid and absolute rule. From story three, it is clear that
there were several imperative beliefs to which I subscribed. For example, at that time I
seemed to believe that "I must reject all people, before they reject me." Another imperative

beliefthat was evident is "I should hate God because God hates me." The remaining type of
intermediate belief, compensatory in nature, is compensatory beliefs. In the stage of my life
described in story three one compensatory belief that I had was, "If I get big, strong, and look
dangerous, then people will have to respect me."
Overall, the rigid and global negative beliefs that I held about myself were having a
tremendous impact on how I constructed my life experience and reality. The core beliefs
facilitated the construction of pervasively negative schemas, which in tum further reinforced
the core beliefs. From the core beliefs, the less generalized intermediate beliefs emerged
which also were negative and further reinforced the core beliefs by facilitating the
construction of negative experiences. For example, my dysfunctional coping attempt, driven
by the imperative belief that "I must reject all others before they reject me," becomes a
vicious circle of dysfunction and pain. The third story provides an illustration of how,
through my dysfunctional information processing, I had created a miserable existence.
The final product of information processing, that includes the influence of core
beliefs and intermediate beliefs, is the automatic thought. An automatic thought is the
product of the preconcious, and is a subtle type of thought, that occurs in tandem with
obvious concious thoughts. Most individuals are not aware of the content or meaning of
automatic thoughts but are keenly aware of their effect because automatic thoughts cause an

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immediate change in affect. When considering the negative core beliefs and the unadaptive
intermediate beliefs I was using, it only makes sense that many of the automatic thoughts that
my preconcious produced would be negative and dysfunctional.
An exellent example of my preconcious automatic thoughts in action, and how the
preconcious interacts with the concious mind, occurred within this third story excerpt as I
was watching television. An attractive adolescent female, who looked about my age, caught
my eye and I tuned in. I turned up the volume and understood that she was trying to convey
her unconditional love to her boyfriend. For a span of seconds, I felt anxious and nauseous,
but automatically, in defense, my darkness won over and my discomfort was smothered by
anger and derision.
Within the preceding excerpt, my conscious mind was fully occupied with two tasks.
The tasks include the close examination of the attractive attributes of the female actor, in
addition to trying to decipher the message she was communicating to her boyfriend. In this
situation the rapid processing of my preconscious mind was working in tandem with my
conscious mind and was evidenced by the anxiety and nausea that I experienced. The
anxiety and nausea were the affective consequence of an automatic thought generated by the
preconscious stream of thought. The contents of the automatic thought that I experienced
during that event, considering my core beliefs and the romantic theme on the television, was
presumably analogous to "Nobody can ever love me". During the experience itself, I was not
aware that I had experienced an automatic thought. During the event, all I knew was that I
was experiencing some very uncomfortable and unacceptable emotions that I attempted to
manage through dysfunctional action.

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It is evident that the preconscious mind caused the automatic thought in this situation

because my conscious mind did not produce any negative or distressing cognition during the
event. This is important because according to cognitive theory we must have cognition in
order to experience an emotion, whether from the conscious stream of thought or
preconscious stream of thought.
In my opinion, the shift in emotion that occurred shifting between anxiety and nausea
to anger and derision was the result of my coping attempt through my dysfunctional
intermediate beliefs. More specifically, in this situation the intermediate belief is of the
imperative category and has contents analogous to "I must conquer all weakness through
anger and resentment, because anger gives me power." In this situation, I was trying to cope
with intermediate beliefs, but rather than helping the situation, I created a cycle of self-abuse
through dealing with a perceived weakness in myself via toxic emotions and self-castigation.
Automatic thoughts are almost always negative in addition to being cognitive
distortions (Clark et al., 1999). Consequently, the "nobody will ever love me" automatic
thought that I experienced falls into several overlapping cognitive distortion categorizations
as is usually the case. The fortune telling cognitive distortion is perhaps the most obvious for
the "nobody will ever love me" negative statement, as it is based on a negative prediction.
Not to be missed, individuals try to cope with painful emotions caused by distorted automatic
thoughts; however, often the coping attempt is unsound in part because individuals are not
aware of the automatic thought that causes the painful emotion. Further, coping attempts are
often based on dysfunctional intermediate beliefs, which exacerbate the situation rather than
help it.

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In summation, in the analysis of the preceding three stories I have described and
provided examples of the components of depressive thinking from the information
processing account of cognitive theory. In essence, cognitive components including core
beliefs, intermediate beliefs, cognitive distortions, and automatic thoughts were presented to
demonstrate the development and maintenance of depressive thinking. The analysis that
follows of the final two stories exemplifies the therapeutic effects and process of cognitive
therapy.

Story Four and Story Five
I have consolidated stories four and five under one section in order to avoid the
redundancy in analyzing these related stories individually. Essentially, much of the cognitive
phenomena that occurred within story four stay stable through story five as the adaptive
cognitive changes are maintained and strengthened. Story four is an exemplar of the
powerful therapeutic effects of cognitive therapy. Story five is also an exemplar of cognitive
therapy's powerful therapeutic effects, but takes the issue one step further and shows the
durability of cognitive therapy's therapeutic effects and its efficacy in relapse prevention.
These final two stories are a dramatic example of how I was able to effect change through
cognitive therapy in not only my cognitive schemata and thinking style but every aspect of
my lived experience; from how I relate to my self to how I experience the social world. Prior
to initiating the analysis of the remaining stories, I will briefly digress in order to describe the
central aspects of how I was able to change my existence so dramatically in the time that
elapsed between story three and story four.

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My Cognitive Regimen

Story four describes how I had been practicing cognitive therapy for approximately
two years before the start of the story. Consequently, before initiating a more specific level
analysis of cognitive phenomena, it is important to consider the considerable period of time
that elapsed since I had first started self-help with cognitive therapy. To provide this
background, I will briefly outline what had occurred cognitively and therapeutically.
From the cognitive perspective, the broad change within me of shifting away from
preconscious dominant processing to conscious dominant processing had its origins in my
initiation of a cognitive regimen consisting of monitoring for and correcting negative
automatic thoughts. This process of self-monitoring, in of itself, was a challenge due to the
fact that most individuals, including myself at that time, do not dedicate much cognitive
resources to changes that occur in affect from moment to moment. I was aware of the
potential difficulties associated with self-monitoring but being steadfast in my commitment
to changing my life, I engaged in several creative behaviors that facilitated getting into a
routine, and thus became skilled with self-monitoring and thought challenging. One strategy
that I employed was setting the timer on my wristwatch to beep every thirty minutes. The
beep at thirty-minute intervals was my cue to assess my emotional state and the thoughts that
were pervasive in my consciousness both at the conscious and pre-conscious level.
Another strategy that I employed was to draw a different symbol on my hand each
day so that each time I saw the symbol that too was my cue to tune in consciously to my
emotional state and thought process. Just as important, I also employed different sounding
alarms to wake me in the morning as a reminder to begin the process of thought management
from the moment I woke up. Incorporating the alarm method in the mornings was a godsend

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because, much like other individuals prone to depressive thinking, mornings were when my
thoughts and emotions were particularly negative. I found that curbing the negative style of
thinking right at the start of the day had the effect of setting the tone for the rest of the day.
Employing 'post it' notes with reminders around the house like the bathroom mirror and
coffee cupboard was also useful in getting into the routine.
In the initial stages of learning thought management, I started with a simplified

approach, as opposed to performing a full thought investigation. Whenever I had a change in
emotion, I simply assessed my thoughts to determine whether the thoughts I was producing
were valid or if the thoughts were cognitive distortions. This simple process alone was
capable of reducing the negative affect that accompanied the cognitive distortions that my
mind was habitually producing. It was not long before I had the confidence, and indeed the
motivation, to perform full thought investigations. After seeing how therapeutically
powerful monitoring for and correcting distortions was, I was driven to engage the full power
of the technique through performing the full thought investigations. A full thought
investigation, in addition to assessing for cognitive distortions, includes investigating lived
experience to find evidence that supports or refutes the automatic thought, and includes
replacing the automatic thought with a thought that is more valid and adaptive. Typically
there is minimal evidence supporting cognitive distortions; if there is real evidence, problem
solving is initiated.
Performing the skill of thought monitoring and correction on a consistent basis
eventually cleared the way towards not only mastery of the skill, but also a massive
improvement in my mood and quality oflife. In order to obtain a skilled level of thought
monitoring and challenging, much like any other skill, however, it required me to be diligent

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and dedicated to the process. For instance, aside from the issue of remembering to monitor
and learn the skills, apathy was often an obstacle. Apathy was a problem in the first phases
of learning the skill in that, sometimes, I found it easier just to wallow in a negative emotion
than to perform a thought investigation. Furthermore, after a long day, and particularly at
nighttime when I was lowest in terms of cognitive resources and cognitive energy, I found it
was most difficult to engage the cognitive strategy and exert the cognitive effort needed to
perform the skills. The cognitive effort required to perform a thought investigation in my
opinion is analogous to the experience of having to solve an unfamiliar (but not too difficult)
mathematical equation when very tired. Conscious thought is slow and effortful to employ,
therefore, dedication and commitment are of paramount importance. On the whole, however,
I found that the immediate reduction of negative affect brought about by performing a
thought investigation provided the impetus to sustain the motivation and commitment
required to keep up the therapeutic regimen.
The skill of performing a full thought investigation, of itself, is not excessively
difficult to learn or perform. Aside from issues such as cognitive exertion, the biggest
obstacle for myself, especially when first starting the therapeutic process, was having the
courage to "look inside". The thoughts that the preconscious produces during depressive
episodes are almost always negative in addition to being self-referent, making them painful
to examine. Furthermore, I found that it took courage to be honest and to take responsibility
for preconscious thoughts and beliefs and own them. Essentially, no person enjoys
consciously accounting for the negative beliefs he or she has concerning their self and,
therefore, it is all too easy to deny or rationalize their existence. Indeed, when I first became
conscious of some of the preconscious thoughts and beliefs I had about myself, the pain

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caused me to try to rationalize them out of existence (i .e. "That can't be right, I know I am
loveable ... "). Nevertheless, I was able to take responsibility and own the components of my
preconscious processing and that allowed me to begin the healing process through cognitive
therapy.
I clearly remember one instance when I first started employing full thought
investigation, when it really dawned on me the power of this technique. This instance of
thought investigation effectively demonstrates the interaction between the preconscious and
conscious mind. The incident took place, ironically, as I was reading a book on cognitive
therapy. As I was reading, my wristwatch beeped, which was my cue to assess my affective
state. After assessing my emotional state, I realized that I was feeling rather anxious. My
conscious mind was occupied with reading and making sense of the information in the book,
so I knew to explore my preconscious stream of thought. I closed my eyes and looked inside,
asking myself, "What was going through my mind?" This simple form of introspection is
how I learned to "hear and decode" what the preconcious is communicating. What I found
was that at the preconscious level I was receiving the message that "I always fail at
everything." Since emotions follow and reflect cognitions, I was feeling anxious because ifl
fail at everything then I would also surely fail at this (the therapy). I analyzed the thought
and found that there were several distortions involved in that one thought. I understood that
the cognitive distortions associated with the thought I was assessing were, essentially, proof
that the thought was invalid. In performing a full thought investigation I also examined my
life for evidence of lived experience, that supported or refuted the automatic thought or
against the automatic thought. In this case, I found that there was very little evidence that I
had a pattern of failure in my life. There had been isolated occasions like failing a class in

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high school; however, that could be explained as failure by design because at that time I did
not care. In assessing lived experience for success, I found that I had a very high degree of
success and indeed that I often excelled at things I tried. This thought investigation opened
my eyes to the value of conscious living because it brought to my attention just how
devastating, and yet invalid, my preconscious perceptions could be.
If I had not performed the thought investigation at that time, I believe that due to the
negative preconscious messages and negative affect, I might have, in despair, put the book
down never to pick it up again. I might have consciously evaluated the situation and
acknowledged that reading the book was difficult and stopped reading it. Indeed, if I did not
know to evaluate the contents of the preconscious, I might have engaged in the emotional
reasoning distortion. In essence, through feeling hopeless, which was underneath the anxiety
I was feeling, I might have eventually assumed that the situation was in reality a hopeless
cause.
Through cognitive therapy, I found that I would often attempt to solve the problem of
a negative emotion -- caused by the preconscious automatic thought -- but end up going in
the wrong direction in terms of solving the problem. An example of how the lack of
preconscious awareness can make one unable to properly address an emotional issue
occurred for me at a point in time when I had slowed in my diligence in maintaining the
cognitive regimen. My erroneous contention was that I did not need to perform the cognitive
protocol anymore; therefore, I had not self-monitored or performed a thought investigation in
several weeks. During the slacking period, I was working for a factory that was in the
process of cutting back on jobs, leaving me in the position of having to bump a coworker at

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another factory to keep employed. Under these circumstances, I found that I was
experiencing an extraordinary amount of guilt.
For approximately one week, I was plagued by this heavy guilt and tried to cope by
being "rational" : "I have many more years of experience than her; the casual employee I'm
bumping was only filling in until someone with appropriate qualifications replaced her; she
has less than one year experience; I have specialized training ... " Try as I might, the
rationalizing was ineffective in ameliorating the guilt I felt because, as I found out later that
week, I was not aware of the message my preconscious was conveying, thus addressing the
wrong issue. One evening, fed up with my guilty turmoil, I put an end to my laziness and
performed a thought investigation. To my astonishment, I found out that the automatic
message my preconscious was communicating was that I was "going to fail at the new
factory." In essence, the guilt that plagued me had very little association to bumping my
coworker but, rather, the guilt was largely about not being good enough to succeed at the new
factory. Consequently, through identifying the cognitive distortions and assessing lived
experience, my guilt and fear of failing were vanquished. Through "proving" to myself that
the preconscious thought was invalid I was able to reduce the guilt I felt and replace the
preconscious thought with a more adaptive one, should it come up again. This experience
allowed me to understand the utility of conscious information processing in terms of
enhancing self- awareness, problem solving capacity, and living rationally.
Overall, through practicing conscious processing there was a gradual shift in my
experience of both self and world. I started to realize, in what I would describe as a
definitive and empirical fashion, that I was not the monster that I thought I was. Therefore, I
became more comfortable with who I was, both when I was alone, and when I was with

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others. Furthermore, as I started to realize that life was not the hell that I had conceptualized
it to be, I started to experience more ease and grace in living life.

Importantly, positive

experiences that came about by the cognitive protocol began with positive affect that lasted
minutes, and came at the cost of frequent thought investigations. The positive affect
gradually extended from lasting minutes to hours, and so on with less need to perform
thought investigations on a frequent basis. The adaptive effects of conscious processing
continued to build upon each success, until I had constructed an adaptive reality that was the
foundation for the experiences described within stories four and five .

Analysis ofFinal Stories
Evident within story four, where I am nineteen and managing a fitness centre, is the
absence of the depressive aspects of the cognitive triad that was seen in my cognition in
previous stories. The first aspect of the cognitive triad associated with depression is the
cognitive pattern of viewing oneself as useless, defective, and lacking any ability required to
attain happiness or success (Beck 1967). Within story four, it is clear that this cognitive
pattern is almost non-existent. The openly evident joy, pleasure, and pride that I displayed in
both self and social aspects are all profound evidence of overcoming the first aspect of the
depressive cognitive triad. The second component of the cognitive triad involves the
component of depression where the individual appears unable to alter their tendency to make
negative interpretations (Beck, 1967). This too has clearly been transcended as evidenced by
the optimistic style of interpreting I employed as I engaged life throughout the story. The
final component of the cognitive triad is the propensity to anticipate horrible consequences
and insurmountable obstacles in the future (Beck, Rush, Shaw, & Emery, 1979). The final
triad component of an all-encompassing pessimistic outlook about the future is also evidently

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transcended. Indeed the story ends with a statement that I make which is implying wonder,
acceptance, and anticipation of the future and its challenges.
At this very broad level of analysis, it is clear that the cognitive therapy has been
successful in altering my schematic contents, from depressive to adaptive, and changing my
thinking style to one that is based on utility and validity of thought and belief. I took
responsibility for my information processing through choosing to engage in conscious
"meaning making" through the cognitive method, rather than relying on the flawed
interpretations ofthe primitive preconscious to determine the meaning of my existence.
Through relative mastery over my automatic thoughts, and consequent shifts to a
conscious style of processing, it is quite clear in the fourth story that some of the very
dysfunctional intermediate beliefs I had subscribed in the previous stories are greatly
changed. The issues of changing intermediate beliefs are of great importance to cognitive
therapy because if these are changed then it is less likely an individual will relapse into
depression. In my case, the immersion in wisdom traditions and philosophy allowed me to
have an advanced understanding of the information-processing concept that we as humans
respond to internal representations of phenomena rather than the phenomenon in and of itself.
I remember feeling empowered understanding of this because it meant that my very painful
intermediate and core beliefs were nothing more than social fabrications.
In my opinion, within story four, the dysfunctional intermediate beliefs are either

fully cognitively restructured, in other words have been replaced by a positive belief or, at a
minimum, the dysfunctional beliefs are at a stage where they are much less likely to be
evoked or triggered by any given stimulus, especially compared to the previous story. The
reason why the negative beliefs are less likely to be evoked is that the negative beliefs are not

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being activated, or more simply, the negative beliefs are not being used (Clark et al. , 1999).
For instance, the conditional rule (intermediate belief) that was strongly in operation in the
previous story was, "Ifl stay angry and resentful then I won't get hurt." In this story
however, through conscious operations, the dominant conditional rule has changed to a much
more adaptive intermediate belief akin to, "If I am positive and friendly then people will
respond in kind". Essentially, through my conscious management of automatic thoughts and
intermediate beliefs, the dysfunctional belief was avoided and the adaptive one was
purposefully employed. Consequently, this strategy has led to the condition where the
adaptive belief has been strengthened and also has become dominant, while the dysfunctional
and inaccurate intermediate belief has been weakened and diminished.
At the level of core beliefs, it is quite clear in this story that my core beliefs, which
take the longest to cognitively restructure, are still an influential factor. This influence of the
negative core beliefs is implied within the story as I am musing how I am still a long way
from fully transcending the trauma of my past. The implication of that statement within the
story is that there are times where I still keenly feel and have to battle against feelings of
unlovability and hopelessness brought about by the deeply entrenched core beliefs. Although
this ongoing struggle with the core beliefs is not overtly documented in the story, the core
beliefs still have a hold at that point in time. Nonetheless, there is also clear evidence that the
restructuring of the core beliefs is indeed in process. The point in the story where I am
meditating by the river, in my opinion, is the beginning of healing the core beliefs that I
carried about myself in relation to God. Up to that point in the story, I believed, more so at
the preconscious level, that God was petty, vengeful, evil, and unjust; however, if I reduce
those to their core components I see the two depressive core beliefs: unlovability and

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helplessness in relationship to God. Consequently, the experience at the river initiated a new
relationship with God; one that slowly evolved as entrenched cognitive schemata inevitably
changed through conscious information processing.
As outlined previously, schemata are enduring internal structures that organize and
guide behavior. Major change is evident in my schemas in the fourth story. In the previous
stories, my schemas were organizing and guiding my behavior to be unhappy, antisocial, and
self-rejecting, in contrast to the present story. Consequently, from the cognitive perspective,
I had shifted from depression, where I would screen out positive and neutral information
while focusing only on negative information thereby making only negative interpretations, to
consciously choosing to focus on adaptive information leading to the construction of adaptive
perceptions (Beck et al., 1979). Indeed, within this story it is very much evident that the
therapeutic effects of cognitive therapy have facilitated the development of learned optimism
and the reacquisition of real pleasure and joy, not experienced since early childhood. Further
evidence of changed schemata is that within the story I had clearly deactivated my
hypervalent depressive schemata. A depressive schema is activated by general stimuli and is
extremely resistant to deactivation, thus facilitating the experience of a bleak and dismal
reality. Perhaps the strongest evidence of deactivation of the hypervalent schema within the
fourth story comes from how I can think about my depression and trauma and not fall into a
depressive mood. Theoretically speaking, if the hypervalent depressive schema still existed,
the process of my reflections during my walk would presumably have been much different.
For instance, in all probability ifl had a depressive schema, I would have started feeling like
a failure and a victim, rather than having a sense of achievement and victory as is displayed
in the story. In summary, cognitive therapy had allowed me to shift from an extremely

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maladaptive and dangerous way of living to an adaptive and pleasurable existence. It is clear
that conscious cognitive processes are powerful operations that have the ability to alter an
individual's experience of life.
Story five serves to demonstrate that the cognitive changes that are present in story
four remain stable; however, the cognitive changes are enhanced, expanded, and
strengthened from years of practice in conscious processing. In my case, within this period
of my life, commitment to cognitive therapy was key to preventing relapse. According to
cognitive theory the difference between a depressed person and a non-depressed person is
that a non-depressed individual has a self-corrective mechanism regarding negative
automatic thoughts of the preconcious. The self-corrective mechanism diminishes the
negative affect of the negative automatic thoughts and protects individuals from the
development of significantly influential maladaptive beliefs. For me, commitment to
employing the cognitive strategies was mandatory to prevent relapse because even after
many years of thought monitoring, I have never encountered evidence of a corrective
mechanism within my own preconscious. For me, this means that cognitive therapy is for
life, especially when I consider the particularly negative beliefs that I developed as a child.
Another important component that is evident within this story as well as in story four,
is that I still subscribe to some very strong spiritual beliefs. As evidenced by the stories, I
always have subscribed to some type of spiritual belief or another. Some individuals would
argue that my engaging in spirituality is counter-productive because there is no evidence for
"God" or "higher power" or spiritual realm for that matter. Nevertheless, within cognitive
theory and cognitive therapy what is important is the adaptability of a thought or belief, thus
adaptability takes precedence over veracity. Clearly, in story five there is no evidence if I

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truly go to "The Void" or if there is a "Void" (see story five) when I meditate, and there is no
evidence that anything has a purpose outside of the purpose I create through my personal
information processing. Nevertheless, within the story, my spiritual beliefs greatly helped me
find meaning, purpose, comfort, and security during my bout with cancer, and are thus
clearly desirable cognitive components.
On another level of analysis, the spiritual orientation that I hold in the first three
stories sprout from themes of persecution, forsakenness, and injustice, and are in stark
contrast to the beliefs in story four and five centered on themes of unity, love, and equality.
From the cognitive perspective, there is clear evidence that there has been serious cognitive
restructuring of intermediate beliefs and core beliefs pertaining to the spiritual domain. In
particular, within story five it is clear that my negative core beliefs have been cognitively
restructured because throughout my experience with cancer there are no thoughts or beliefs
relating to victimization or persecution. There is no evidence that I carry any beliefs that I
somehow deserve to have cancer or that I am being punished via cancer, which in my
opinion, is how I would have perceived the situation prior to the adaptive cognitive
restructuring. Furthermore, within story five there is no evidence that I feel unlovable or
helpless (although I am afraid at times) during my bout with cancer. The absence of feeling
helpless or unlovable is perhaps the strongest evidence that many of my core beliefs are
cognitively restructured, meaning that the beliefs that I now hold are that I am loveable and
potent as a human being. This is compelling evidence because a diagnosis of cancer
obviously affects any person to the core; I suggest that any underlying beliefs of being
unlovable and especially helplessness would have been activated. Schematically speaking, it
is the strength of my adaptive beliefs, in addition to maintaining conscious processing (i.e.

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adherence to cognitive protocols) that prevents relapse into depressive thinking even when
having to face the realities ofbeing diagnosed with cancer.
Summary
The five autobiographical stories have been analyzed from the cognitive perspective
and present my best account of what may have occurred for me at the level of cognitive
process. The analysis highlights how as a child I had particular experiences that, along with
preconscious dominant information processing, created a unique and idiosyncratic reality. I
perceived the unique reality that I created as entirely negative due to negative experiences
that were compounded by negative preconscious processing. In time, the preconscious
processing facilitated the expansion and maintenance of the depressive reality in part through
illusions and through preventing effective coping and problem solving. Ultimately, however,
through becoming educated on information processing and cognitive therapy I was able take
full advantage of the promise that cognitive therapy offers. Through obtaining the
information needed to manage my cognitive components, I was able to do much more than
simply overcome my depressive thinking. It is my opinion that cognitive therapy was
essential to opening me to my higher potentials through allowing me freedom from being
imprisoned in a constructed hellish illusion.
Conclusion
This project is my attempt to create and share something that is meaningful,
personal, and reflective of our shared humanity, despite the fact this document is an academic
pursuit. Overall, I believe that I have succeeded in my efforts in that this document
encompasses my stated goals. Through the auto-ethnography component, as the author of
the telling of my story, I am committed to my academic agenda but also enter the realm of

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the meaningful and personal. Further, this project is reflective of our shared humanity on
many levels, including, but not limited to cognitive process, the experience of victimization,
the inevitable issue of mortality, and overcoming adversity.
As a counselor, working directly and in depth with the personal and emotional I have
found the personal component sorely lacking within academic literature. As a result, I
provide the auto-ethnographic component as the ideal platform because it combines the
personal with the scholarly and is a means towards blurring the illusionary division between
scholarly and personal/evocative writing (Bumier, 2006). The auto-ethnographic and theory
components together incorporate my vulnerabilities and emotions, and models for other
individuals to know how to live and cope. This auto-ethnography, like other autoethnographies, has a way of examining how human experience is endowed with meaning.
However, the effect of examining how human experience is endowed with meaning is taken
to a new level when presented in conjunction with cognitive theory.
Future autoethnographic research could include the examination of autoethnographic
stories through the lens of other psychological theories as this could enhance the
autoethnographic quality of helping individuals know how to live and cope.
Autoethnography has the effect of examining how human experience is endowed with
meaning, therefore examination from a theoretical standpoint serves as a solid foundation
from which to expand on initial interpretations from ethnography alone. Furthermore, the
autoethnographic quality of immersion within the data results in multidimensional experience
of the data (Bochner and Ellis, 1996), and thus, future research could look at
multidimensional analysis including cognitive, moral, and developmental dimensions.

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The overarching purpose of this work is to entice individuals to engage cognitive
theory and therapy, through this personal and academic form of exposure to cognitive
therapy. It is my experience that individuals often shy away from cognitive therapy because
of its complex aspects, so it is my hope that this very personal and concrete description of
cognitive theory will inspire more individuals to pick up the cognitive torch. Ultimately,
exposing myself in such a way is a "shout out" to people that we are not what happens to us
nor are we our behaviors. As such, we are not victims of the past or present but rather
creative beings capable of constructing the life we want; even with the inevitable bumps and
even tragedy that we encounter on the road of life. Ultimately, this work is my movement to
take responsibility for who I am as a creative being by helping others to discover, through
this work, that they are also creative beings with autonomy over the experiences they
cognitively construct. Perhaps, the overarching message I want to convey is that we as
individuals, when informed, have the power to choose to consciously construct our worth,
truth, and reality, autonomously and independent of the situations that life has dealt.

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Appendix 1

Adapted from David Bums: The Feeling Good Handbook

List of Cognitive Distortions

1) Ali-or-nothing thinking- Thinking of things in absolute terms. For instance, seeing
things as either totally black (horrible) or totally white (perfect) and not seeing the shades of
grey that pervades most aspects of life. An example of the black end of this distortion is
when an individual gets a flat tire before work and thus claims that "life is hell".
2) Overgeneralization - Thinking that takes an isolated event and makes making
generalizations from that event. For instance, failing your first driving test means that you
will never get your license.
3) Mental filter -Thinking that focuses only on negative information while ignoring neutral
and positive information. For instance, considering that you are a terrible runner because you
came in third in a race.
4) Disqualifying the positive -Thinking that turns positive situations into a negative
situation through rationalization. For instance, thinking that your family which loves you
does not make you loveable because your family is supposed to love you.
5) Jumping to conclusions - Making negative inferences without any evidence to support
your assumptions.
A) Mind reading - Thinking that entails assuming you know what someone else is thinking.
For instance, thinking the clerk serving you hates you when in reality she is really stressed.
B) Fortune telling- Making negative predictions without any evidence. For instance,
thinking that your committed and supportive spouse is bound to someday leave you.
6) Magnification and Minimization - Thinking that entails inappropriately understating or
exaggerating the way situations truly are.
A) Magnification and Minimization often this takes form as a "double standard" where the
positive characteristics of other people are exaggerated while your negative characteristics
are magnified and vice versa. For instance, thinking that your friend passed the test because
she is a genius while you passed only through luck alone. Alternatively, thinking that your
friend missing the basketball shot was a fluke but you missing the same shot makes you a
loser.
B) Catastrophizing- Thinking that entails "making a mountain out of a mole hill". For
instance, thinking that a flat tire on the way to work means "life is hell".
7) Emotional reasoning - Thinking that entails drawing conclusions about a situation based
on how one is feeling emotionally, rather than drawing conclusions from objective evidence.
For instance, thinking that life is hopeless because you are feeling hopeless, which is a gross
lapse in logic.

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8) Making should statements- Thinking that entails the use of "must", "should", or "ought"
thus creating one of two situations a) turning the way things actually are into a negative
situation b) creation of rigid rules that are inappropriate, yet insisting they always apply no
matter what the situation is.
9) Labeling and Mislabeling - Thinking that is emotionally loaded and entails inappropriately
categorizing individuals or events, merely by naming them. This cognitive distortion makes
a changeable situation into a permanent and unchangeable flaw . For instance, thinking that
being turned down for a date means that you are a loser, thus the cause of the turndown
becomes clear, and it is the fact that you are a loser (which is a horrible and unchangeable
label to carry). Rather than labeling, a person could find other causes for the turndown that
are more realistic and appropriate. Thus, the person can view the problem through looking at
changing behavior. Strategies such as looking for a person who is more compatible, change
his/her wardrobe, seek better social skills, improving on personal hygiene are all very
changeable and achievable variables that will facilitate finding a date.
10) Personalization - Thinking that entails applying inappropriate blame to self or others
regarding a negative situation. For instance, thinking that the small business you work for
went out of business because you work there, ignores the issue of the Wal-Mart that came to
town a few months ago.