What it costs the people around you

A private habit of mind seems to affect nobody else. But the commentary gets out in several ways.

The first is that you say some of it aloud. "I'm so stupid." "God, I'm useless." "Ignore me, I'm an idiot." These slip out when you drop something or forget something, and you think nothing of them. If you have children, they're listening. Children learn how a person is supposed to respond to a mistake mainly by watching what the adults around them do when they make one. You'd never call Sam an idiot for forgetting his PE kit. But if he hears you call yourself an idiot for forgetting a form, he's learning what to say to himself when he forgets his kit. Chapter 2 argued that the commentary is handed down, and this is how it happens. Nobody meant any harm by it.

The second is what it asks of the people close to you. A partner or friend who hears you run yourself down has to decide what to do. Usually they reassure you. "No, you're not useless, it was one form." That's kind of them, and it's also work. It has to be done again the next day, because reassurance from outside doesn't last against a commentary that runs all the time. Some partners get tired. Some come to feel that their good opinion of you counts for nothing, since you overrule it daily.

The third is praise. When someone compliments your work, the commentary disagrees, and you say so. "Oh, it was nothing, I made a mess of the ending." You mean it as modesty. But the person who praised you hears that their judgement was wrong, and if you keep telling them so, they'll stop offering it.

The fourth is that standards leak. Someone who treats every mistake of her own as a disgrace finds it hard, over time, to be relaxed about other people's. You may be gentle with Anna. But people who live with a harsh self-critic often report feeling judged too, even when nothing is said. A sigh, a tightening, or the way you redo something they did can be enough. If you can't tolerate your own mistakes, the house you live in becomes a tense place for other people to make theirs.

And the last is simply that you're less available. Someone who's absorbed in an argument with herself, going back over the slip in the meeting, isn't fully present at dinner. The commentary takes your attention, and it's the people you live with who go without.