Fred Luskin

No. I mean, issues, that's a nice way of putting it. Her husband was a serial adulterer. She had found him cheating numerous times. He said, I'm sorry. She said, OK, I'll take you back. He did it again.

Something snapped in her. She said, no more. You'll never treat me like this again. She threw him out. She filed for divorce. But when we met her, this guy owned her brain. And her conversation was just so dominated by him, him, him, him, him.

Something snapped in her. She said, no more. You'll never treat me like this again. She threw him out. She filed for divorce. But when we met her, this guy owned her brain. And her conversation was just so dominated by him, him, him, him, him.

Something snapped in her. She said, no more. You'll never treat me like this again. She threw him out. She filed for divorce. But when we met her, this guy owned her brain. And her conversation was just so dominated by him, him, him, him, him.

Oh, there's a sadness or a poignancy sometimes. When you see people who are hurt like that, her conversation is about my ex and the lost marriage and what a bad person he was. But it's shrouded in failure. It's this didn't work. I couldn't make it happen. I did my best. There were obstacles too big for me. And that has implications for her entire life.

Oh, there's a sadness or a poignancy sometimes. When you see people who are hurt like that, her conversation is about my ex and the lost marriage and what a bad person he was. But it's shrouded in failure. It's this didn't work. I couldn't make it happen. I did my best. There were obstacles too big for me. And that has implications for her entire life.

Oh, there's a sadness or a poignancy sometimes. When you see people who are hurt like that, her conversation is about my ex and the lost marriage and what a bad person he was. But it's shrouded in failure. It's this didn't work. I couldn't make it happen. I did my best. There were obstacles too big for me. And that has implications for her entire life.

That is true for her. It's like, let me tell you. Now let me tell you. Now let me tell you again. Now let me call up grandma and tell her. The real suffering is when that failure and that loss become part of their identities. And so for somebody like Debbie, when we had encountered her, it was, hi, I'm Debbie, a woman with a lousy ex-husband and a failed marriage.

That is true for her. It's like, let me tell you. Now let me tell you. Now let me tell you again. Now let me call up grandma and tell her. The real suffering is when that failure and that loss become part of their identities. And so for somebody like Debbie, when we had encountered her, it was, hi, I'm Debbie, a woman with a lousy ex-husband and a failed marriage.

That is true for her. It's like, let me tell you. Now let me tell you. Now let me tell you again. Now let me call up grandma and tell her. The real suffering is when that failure and that loss become part of their identities. And so for somebody like Debbie, when we had encountered her, it was, hi, I'm Debbie, a woman with a lousy ex-husband and a failed marriage.

So that had meant that it was now integrated into her self-concept.

So that had meant that it was now integrated into her self-concept.

So that had meant that it was now integrated into her self-concept.

So she was, my mom didn't love me. I never got the kind of affection that I would hope for. I felt rejected and unwanted and I grew up with this sense of not being good enough and, you know, not having enough value in this world. And no matter what I said to mom, I couldn't get through to her. You know, like, mom, notice me. Mom, I'm around. Notice I matter. Mom was impenetrable.

So she was, my mom didn't love me. I never got the kind of affection that I would hope for. I felt rejected and unwanted and I grew up with this sense of not being good enough and, you know, not having enough value in this world. And no matter what I said to mom, I couldn't get through to her. You know, like, mom, notice me. Mom, I'm around. Notice I matter. Mom was impenetrable.

So she was, my mom didn't love me. I never got the kind of affection that I would hope for. I felt rejected and unwanted and I grew up with this sense of not being good enough and, you know, not having enough value in this world. And no matter what I said to mom, I couldn't get through to her. You know, like, mom, notice me. Mom, I'm around. Notice I matter. Mom was impenetrable.

And so Jill brought that sense of frustration and invisibleness to the way she talked about what it was that had occurred 20 years ago when her mother had died. You could just feel the angst.

And so Jill brought that sense of frustration and invisibleness to the way she talked about what it was that had occurred 20 years ago when her mother had died. You could just feel the angst.

And so Jill brought that sense of frustration and invisibleness to the way she talked about what it was that had occurred 20 years ago when her mother had died. You could just feel the angst.

Precisely. And what you articulated is one of the unanticipated consequences of keeping a grievance alive. And they don't realize how integrated that wound or problem has become in their self-identity. And that link, that integration makes it seem really hard to imagine, what would I be without this?