Steve Andreas > Books Authored > Six Blind Elephants > Chapter 12

Exaggeration

When someone tells you about a problem or complaint, another possible response is to exaggerate it and make it much larger in scope than it really is. If someone says they have a lot of fears, you can say, �Oh, are you one of those people who are afraid of �dust mice� under the bed, or that someone is going to go through your trash and save your fingernail clippings to make a voodoo doll and put a hex on you? Do you worry about a passing airplane dropping a piece of �blue ice� from the toilet on your head? Just how bad is this?� Usually they will laugh, and protest, �No, no, it�s not that bad,� and go on to clarify with they are afraid of. By describing an extreme example of their problem, theirs will appear much less severe in comparison, and may even seem normal, so exaggeration can be thought of as a kind of normalization.

If your spouse says, �Your forgetting to do those errands means you don�t care about me,� you can say, �Yeah, I guess you�re right. I�ll pack my bags. Do you want the house or the car?� After the surprise (and hopefully the laughter) subsides, you can go on to apologize for forgetting and begin problem-solving, about how to remember better in the future.

Frank Farrelly is the master of exaggerating a situation in order to help someone see it from a new perspective:

A combative female patient, for example, has just been placed in the seclusion room. She stands near the door grill, shouting obscenities at the staff for controlling her aggressive behavior toward another patient.

Frank (sidling up to the grill, in full view of the patient; chortling loudly): Atta girl! You�ve got �em on the run! They�re scared shitless of you now, the sonufabitchin� bug-housers and that crazy freak! Keep it up, don�t let �em break you (through clenched teeth) No matter what! No matter how long they keep you in there!

Patient (laughing in mid-shout): Aw, go to hell, Frank! You ain�t locked up in here. It�s easy for you to say that. You try it, if you like it so goddamn much.

Frank (cringing, looking furtively down hall, drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper): Not me! They broke my spirit long ago, but I always have hopes that they�ll finally meet somebody they can�t break (suddenly glaring furiously, raising his voice in a fanatical shout) No matter what tortures they�

Patient (laughing; interrupting in a conversational tone): Careful, they�ll put you in here next. Aw, piss on it, I�m shaping up and shippin� outa here. (29, pp. 110-111)

When a paranoid client came in for a first session with a psychiatrist and began to talk about being watched, followed and persecuted, the psychiatrist immediately interrupted and joined with the client, saying, �My God, you�ve got to be more careful; most psychiatrists would send you straight to the nut house or turn you over to the Mafia! Before you say anything else, have you checked yourself for �bugs� today?� He stood up and examined the client�s clothes very carefully, asking him to stand up and turn around. Finding a loose hair on the client�s shoulder, he elaborately burned it with a match over an ashtray, explaining, �You can�t be too careful; they�re making them smaller and smaller these days.�

Then the psychiatrist explained that undoubtedly sometimes he would get distracted by what he was doing, and not hear what people were saying about him behind his back, so he really ought to carry a tape recorder around with him, and listen to the tapes later at home, so as not to miss anything. When the client mentioned the CIA, the psychiatrist asked if he had checked out whether the FBI or Interpol might also be after him. He continued to exaggerate all the client�s protective behaviors, giving him many additional ways to be even more vigilant. After a few days of this, the client returned in tears, saying, �I can�t live like this!� and together they began to explore other possibilities. I know of several examples in which this kind of approach worked very well.

Joel Bergman (18) described a 39-year-old man named Eddie, who was in a community home after spending 19 years in a mental hospital. He stayed in bed 23 hours a day, and spent the remaining hour whining, crying, walking in circles, and harassing other residents into doing things for him. One day he said, �I�ve done everything in life there is to do,� and the staff decided to utilize this categorization. They all agreed with Eddie that he probably had done everything in life that there was to do, and therefore the only thing left to do was to prepare to die.

They told Eddie that they planned to take his door off it�s hinges and place it on blocks in the center of the living room, converting it into a funeral parlor with candles and fresh flowers. Eddie was to lie in state, wearing his best suit, and holding rosary beads. When Eddie heard this, he jumped up and down screaming that he was not dead, but this outburst was described as a �death cackle.� Everyone in the house was informed that Eddie was �basically dead,� and that they were waiting for his soul to leave his body.

Eddie then lay in state for three consecutive days. Throughout the day, he was referred to in past tense, and everyone directed their voices toward heaven. Every evening, 20 minutes before dinner, there was a formal viewing for residents to say their last farewells wearing black armbands, and some of the women residents wept. On the fourth day, Eddie started going to the day program, began sleeping a normal seven hours, started doing his own cleaning and cooking chores, and started dating women.