“Just stop.”

As if it were that easy.

One of the most common responses I hear from folks who are seeking to understand those struggling with mental health issues is usually along the lines of “Have you considered just thinking about this rationally? I think if you do, you’ll just stop whatever it is you’re doing!” As if the person struggling hasn’t considered—wished for—this. As if bingeing, harming oneself, pulling hair, restricting, isolating, panic attacks, substance abuse, etc., was as simple as recognizing the “rational” reason not to, and then being able to just stop.

Yes, there are therapy modalities that rely on exploring, understanding and altering our ways of thinking, as these ways of thinking impact our beliefs, functioning, behaviors and emotions. But that does not mean the process is simple. It is not as if we can be reminded, “Hey, when you have a panic attack about this one issue you know it isn’t rational, right? So you can just stop” and then poof!—the person feels all better and never has this experience again.

Instead, the person likely may seek to understand what is occurring on a mental, emotional and even physiological level, what the triggers may be, which tools and coping skills to use. Even then, the individual likely will need to practice many, many times before this becomes a new behavior. And a new behavior also does not mean it feels good; it likely will take even longer for these tools to feel natural, effective and emotionally fitting.

Telling someone “just stop” implies that it is about the simplicity of stopping. This overlooks the underlying emotional experience and the way the person is engaging in this behavior as a means of coping.

Yes, sometimes the person may use the “opposite action” skill (a part of dialectical behavioral therapy, or DBT) where the goal is to engage in a way that is directly opposite to what the individual wants to do, but this does not mean the person “just stops.” Rather, it is a careful challenge to identify the natural desire and then do the opposite. For instance, a person wants to engage in a behavior that harms him/herself and engages in the opposite manner—refrains from doing so—while still acknowledging the underlying emotional need and identifying an alternative way to cope.

We must recognize that mental and emotional struggles are not about solutions or “fixes”—they are about recognizing the emotional and mental aspects of the struggle and how this has informed and led to certain behaviors and ways of coping. Ways of coping that may be rigid and result in a new normal. It is vital to understand that this is not the person’s haphazard choice and does not stem from a rational place. Rather, the person has adjusted as a means of surviving, coping, and likely even protecting him/herself. And still, this behavior and way of operating can be unlearned. But it will take patience and time and recognition of repeating new patterns, providing validation, and knowing that the path will not be linear.

In many ways, this is reminiscent of Bnei Yisrael’s pathway to becoming Am Yisrael when they were saved and liberated from Egypt. My husband and I were recently discussing the psychological phenomenon of the Makkot (plagues) as I know that in my own education, we rarely discussed the impact of these Makkot on Bnei Yisrael, instead focusing on how they were received by and impacted Pharoah and the Egyptians. I brought this up with my father—as I tend to do when exploring any Torah idea—and he shared that this is a widely discussed idea by many Mefarshim (sages) and noted the Ramban, who explored the idea that the plagues occurred in a very distinct manner—in a progression—designed to break down particular understandings, psychological perspectives and ways of life of Bnei Yisrael that they had adapted to or learned while enslaved in Egypt.

Essentially, they needed to unlearn themes surrounding self-identity and avodah zara that had become the “new normal” and as they became not only Bnei Yisrael, but Am Yisrael.

They did not simply witness one plague and accept their new identity, way of life and religion. This process was lengthy, requiring 10 plagues, each achieving the breakdown and “unlearning” to allow for acceptance and a new road ahead. If Bnei Yisrael—who witnessed miracles and plagues—could not “just” accept a new way of living, thinking and behaving, shouldn’t we recognize how hard this can be when there isn’t any of what seems like obvious proof?

When an individual is working toward healing or engaging in a different way of living we may try to convince him or her why it is worth it, or remind them of motivation. Sometimes this can help. Other times hope can feel impossible. Bnei Yisrael witnessed hope, whereas people in our lives may feel unconvinced. Let us use what we can learn from the story of our liberation as we support individuals living with more freedom and agency, knowing that it is not about “just changing,” that the road and journey take time, that understanding must be broken down to then be rebuilt—all with compassion, challenging, validation and respect.

As we celebrate and reflect on Hashem redeeming our ancestors, noting that we would still be slaves, let us recognize the way we and others may feel enslaved to a part of ourselves or to a struggle, and create space for curiosity and patience. The road may be long, and still—you too can experience that freedom.

Temimah Zucker, LCSW, works with individuals ages 18 and older in New York and New Jersey who are struggling with mental health concerns, and specializes in working with those looking to heal their relationships between their bodies and souls. Temimah is an adjunct professor at the Wurzweiler School of Social Work, an advocate and public speaker concerning eating disorder awareness and a Metro-New York supervisor at Monte Nido. To learn more or to reach her, please visit www.temimah.com 

By Temimah Zucker, LCSW