Subjugation schema – Schema Therapy Blog

Anger Management and Schema Therapy

Anger management is an extremely useful skill to develop.

Sometimes, our anger is legitimate and serves to enforce our personal boundaries when others infringe upon them.

At other times, our anger can be out of line and exaggerated more than necessary, due to our past experiences.

Schema therapy can help us identify what’s really going on inside our heads when we get angry. Am I overreacting to this situation due to a schema developed in my past? Should I just keep this anger to myself? Will it be useful or counterproductive if I express this anger?

It’s important to express and acknowledge one’s anger, and not repress it. However, this needs to be done with emotional intelligence.

I grew up in an angry and chaotic household where anger was a threat used constantly by our narcissistic parents. “Don’t make me angry or you’ll pay for it!” And we would pay for it emotionally or physically if we complained much.

Anger and frustration tended to go unexpressed until it was too much and family members would then explode at each other, blaming each other for their problems.

In retrospect, I understand our family problem was that we didn’t feel safe discussing problems until we were so annoyed that we would explode in massive rage. None of us were emotionally intelligent, so expressions of anger usually ended in situations we were unhappy with and ashamed of.

Consequently, I developed a strong subjugation schema and emotional inhibition schema that spills over into my relationships at home and at work.

I tend to subconsciously feel that I need to tolerate others’ annoying behavior without complaining much, even when it should be called out. I tend to fear expressing legitimate frustration in case it might produce negative consequences or lead to emotional or physical violence like it did when I was a child.

Emotional intelligence, schema therapy and anger management

These days, through schema therapy, I’ve gotten much better at anger management. I make a point of expressing many of my frustrations as they arise, staying true to my feelings, but without turning each situation into a whining session of negativity designed to attract attention to myself.

Still, my resolve to approach anger management intelligently was significantly tested during a recent long conversation with a friend. By some standards, I passed the test.

She was venting extensively about her personal situation and her fears about her colleagues possibly working against her. However, she had vented to me previously more than once on this subject, and she didn’t have much proof that her suspicion was true, so I was already tired of hearing about it when she started venting again that day.

However, as a friend, I wanted to lend her an ear and some support. As her venting continued, I started disassociating and thinking about my subjugation schema.

I was starting to feel yelled at, as if I were being forced again to listen to my parents’ constant whining about this and that (subjugation schema, I must put up with everything or be yelled at or beaten, right?). My parents are now dead, so that threat no longer exists, fortunately.

I was getting some of that familiar jittery, impatient feeling in my body while she continued with her rant. I watched myself pacing a bit while she ranted, fully aware of my discomfort.

She had few facts to support her rant, so I attempted to soothe her with comments about her suspicion being perhaps not as bad as it appears, and that she should examine that further, but my comments were ignored and talked over. It was becoming clear that ranting was more important to her than discussing facts. or her relationship with me.

It felt like she had been ranting for an hour, but it was probably only 30 minutes, when I got fed up. She started asking what was said about her during conversations between me and my next-door neighbor, as if she were important enough that my neighbor and I had been talking about her each time we met.

At that point, she crossed a personal boundary of mine, one which must never be crossed. She has a massive mistrust/abuse schema, worse than mine. I can’t imagine what kind of boundary violations she grew up with, perhaps many like I had growing up. I try to be compassionate, but at some point, I put up my wall and say that enough is enough.

Within a second, all my worked-at patience, composure and compassion disappeared. I yelled at her and stormed back into my house after she claimed that my neighbor said things that I had never told anyone except her.

I hadn’t yelled at anyone like that in a long time. I initially felt guilty about it because I know it made her feel bad, and I don’t like to make anyone feel bad. That’s how a subjugation schema works. Given my family background, I actually felt ashamed at first of my justifiable anger because it initially felt like an overreaction. “Never make Mom angry or you will pay for it!”

However, my anger was not an overreaction. I’m proud to have stayed through the difficult moments of supporting my friend as much as I could until it became too much, and I’m proud that I was able to express my anger later, at the right time, even though she doesn’t like it.

Subjugation Schema – How I Ended Up Buying a Different Truck

I grew up under parents who mostly loved us, or at least tried, but they were heavy-handed when it came to punishment and verbal abuse. I grew up always fearing the next argument with my father, which could be at any moment and about anything, and fearing what kind of emotional or physical reprimands that next pointless argument might lead to.

The result is a Subjugation Schema that has run in the background throughout my adult life without my realizing it. I developed a knee-jerk reaction of feeling uncomfortable or intimidated by authority figures in any kind of situation: teachers, bosses, interviewers, friends with more knowledge about a particular subject than me, and even cashiers.

Instead of acting like a confident and whole person, I’ve often compensated for my discomfort by running away from interactions where I perceive myself as an unequal partner, or by being a bit aggressive or contrarian when there was no way to escape. If I couldn’t run away, sometimes I would just shut down and stop talking and listening while remaining physically present.

A few years ago, when I was buying a new truck, I saw my Subjugation Schema emerge in perfect form.

I wanted a particular special edition of a truck that would only be made that year. A limited number of these trucks were to be produced. I had never purchased a brand-new vehicle before, and it was after much research over several months that I finally decided to buy this particular truck.

My chosen dealership did have one of these trucks on order, but it hadn’t arrived yet. No other dealerships in my area had one, and none of them had one on order.

When I visited my dealership, the low-pressure salesperson suggested that I could put down a refundable deposit so that I could have the on-order truck at the quoted price when it would arrive a few weeks later.

I balked at the salesperson’s helpful offer of letting me reserve the truck I wanted. I left the dealership that day with the intention of returning a week or two later when the truck was supposed to arrive. As I had done so many times before, I was running away from the fear of subjugation to an authority figure, instead of dealing with the details of the situation at face value.

Putting down a deposit would have ensured that I get what I wanted, but I was felt too intimidated and couldn’t allow myself to follow a knowledgeable salesperson’s recommendation—even if it was exactly what needed to be done.

Even if a friend had recommended that I follow the salesperson’s advice in order to get what I wanted, I probably couldn’t have allowed myself to follow their instructions either.

My Mistrust Schema also comes equally into play here, since I had background fears that maybe something negative and unanticipated might happen with the transaction only partially completed. Perhaps I would be taken advantage of in some way.

The Subjugation Schema and Mistrust/Abuse Schema walk hand-in-hand in situations like these throughout my life. These days, I recognize them and can even laugh about it sometimes, but I wasn’t always aware of their influence.

A week later, I revisited the dealership to see if “my” truck had arrived. It hadn’t.

By then, I was almost over my fear of subjugation enough to put down a deposit, but it was too late. Someone else had already made a deposit and reserved the truck, like I could have done.

So… the truck I wanted would not be mine, thanks to fears I couldn’t confront or get past.

However… the dealership had just received a similar truck the day before, equally desirable, in a version with slightly fewer options. I looked at it, took it for a test drive, was impressed, and bought it on the spot.

I love this durable truck and have been happily driving it on all kinds of rough terrain for several years now. It’s one of the best purchases I’ve ever made, despite whatever doubts I had at the time.

Looking back, I’m glad my Unrelenting Standards Schema didn’t kick in as it often does. It could have stopped me from buying this great truck just because it was not exactly my first choice.

My Unrelenting Standards Schema makes it easy to dismiss excellent alternatives as undesirable and second-best when I become unnecessarily fussy about adhering to a specific preconceived “perfect” goal.

In the end, my Subjugation Schema prevented me from getting the exact truck I initially wanted, and it could have prevented me from getting any truck at all. I’m glad I didn’t allow that to happen. I’m glad I stepped in and broke through the maladaptive schemas and happily bought a truck that fit my desires.

Unrelenting Standards Schema, Entitlement Schema and Emotional Inhibition Schema: a schema cocktail example

The interplay of one’s own maladaptive schemas can be interesting to watch.

Recently, I attended a live concert at a very small venue by one of my favorite bands. This was the first time I had seen this band live and they were much better live than I was expecting. To my surprise, I enjoyed their live music even more than their recorded music, which I already liked enough to play often. I was elated by the performance, the crowd, and the overall energy by the time it all ended late in the evening.

Because the venue and crowd were small, the band announced that they would be available after the performance to chat with anyone wishing to do so, over by the bar.

My first thought was that it would be interesting to chat with the band since I’ve been inspired and cheered on by so many of their anthem-like lyrics and know many of them by heart, but I didn’t feel like waiting in a line up of fans just to say a few words to them when I also wanted to be heading home for the night. It was already late and I would have to get up early for work the next morning.

After going to the washroom, ready to leave the venue, I noticed that my friend was walking away from the band where they were seated. It turned out that he had just spoken to them briefly, passing on a few compliments, while I was in the washroom.

It looked like a few more people were waiting to chat with the band, and I didn’t feel like waiting around any longer, so my friend and I proceeded to leave.

As we walked down the street, he told me about what he said to the band. I was glad to be on my way home, but had a vague feeling that I had just missed out on something important to me. I told my friend a bit about how I felt, but I didn’t make a big deal about it, minimizing my truly felt feelings.

He suggested, “You know, we can turn around and go back inside for a few minutes so you could chat with them,” but I replied something like, “Nah, I think I would want to have something specific to say to them—not just, ‘Hey, I like your music’—and I haven’t given any forethought as to what exactly I would say that would be meaningful.”

Enter the Unrelenting Standards Schema

We continued our walk back to the truck and it started to occur to me that I had some maladaptive schemas playing out here.

I was beginning to realize that I really had been wanting to speak to the band, but was being dishonest with myself, unconsciously using my Unrelenting Standards as an excuse to not do so, to deprive myself of the experience. I had been telling myself that, since I couldn’t think of the precise, correct thing that I wanted to say, it wasn’t worth speaking to the band at all, as much as I would have really enjoyed that.

Looking back, that’s simply self-delusion. Even if I had not been able to think of the perfect thing to say to the band, speaking to them would have been intensely satisfying. After all, I’ve been practically worshiping some of their lyrics for years. Why would I not be thrilled to speak to the folks who wrote them and look into their eyes during the conversation?

It’s useless for me to feel that a conversation with them must be somehow perfect in order to be meaningful to me or them. They are the performers here and I really enjoyed what they did tonight for us fans—there’s no need for me to consider a possible conversation with them as a performance of my own.

Enter the Entitlement Schema

People who know me well know that I hate waiting in lines, so I rarely do that. There are restaurants that appeal to me that I will probably never visit due to the long lines in front of them.

My entitlement schema dictates that I simply shouldn’t have to put up with long lines in order to experience something. It rarely ends up depriving me of anything super-special, but in this case, a longish wait would have been warranted. And the line wasn’t really all that long.

In this case, had I been more flexible and able to let go of my general feeling of entitlement regarding waiting in long lines, I might have experienced some special moments in my life that I chose to miss.

Enter the Emotional Inhibition Schema

An Emotional Inhibition Schema infers that one suppresses self-expression to some degree out of fear of losing control of one’s emotions. I’ve learned that part of me is like that.

What if I became overly joyful and ecstatic upon speaking to the band? Perhaps I’d feel embarrassed by my enthusiasm if I let go completely and said things to the band that were too supportive or too personal or too unfocused. I might say things that could break my vision of myself as a highly rational, analytical and focused individual.

I might get overexcited. I might be embarrassed by the fact that the friend I was with that evening saw me overexcited. Had I attended this concert without my friend, I might have been a bit more comfortable speaking to the band, since nobody I know would have witnessed my overexcitedness.

Subjugation Schema too?

My Subjugation Schema runs deep, even deeper than most other schemas. I don’t merely respond to stimuli, I feel like I’m obligated to respond. Or, I countercompensate and refuse to respond in rebellion, reacting to the “subjugating” stimulus nonetheless.

In this context, the “instruction” was for any interested fans to meet back by the bar to speak with the band once the show was over.

As much as I wanted to meet the band in person, I unconsciously disliked the idea of being a sheep-like fan who would do whatever the band suggested.

In this case, my Subjugation Schema won and I lost. I lost out on the opportunity to speak in person with a band that I admired so much, partly because I didn’t like feeling “ordered” to meet them at the back of the bar like a mere mortal.

It wasn’t worth it

I’m getting better at identifying my maladaptive schemas and refusing to fall prey to them when they take hold, but, this time, they won. I picked up on it after the event had passed. I missed the opportunity to connect more deeply with this band that I admire so much.

The first couple of days following the concert, I found myself thinking about the greatness of attending the show and reliving certain moments of it in my head.

However, during the days after that, I found myself thinking about my missed opportunity to chat with the band. Thinking more, I’ve managed to decipher it all in terms of maladaptive schemas.

The overall feeling is essentially one of regret, except that I don’t believe in regret. Instead, whenever I think I might be feeling regret, I seek to understand why I made the choices I made at the time of the “regretted moment,” rather than merely lament the choices that weren’t made.

Now I understand which schemas were in play when I chose to not linger at the venue and chat with the band after the show, passing up on what could have been a memorable happiness-enhancing moment.

Hopefully, the next time I’m in a similar situation, I’ll detect my schemas at work sooner and choose differently.

One Punitiveness Schema versus One Mistrust Schema

My ex-partner appears to have a deep punitiveness schema, probably as counter-compensation for a subjugation, defectiveness or failure schema.

When we were together, I would notice multiple instances every week where he would take pleasure in others’ failures, or wish that anonymous people be punished for some small thing that they did that displeased him in some way.

This was before I knew about the vocabulary around schema therapy and maladaptive schemas, so I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, and that there is a pattern to it all. However, I was noticing a “certain thing” that I couldn’t describe yet, and about which I felt quite uncomfortable. I was feeling fear and didn’t realize it.

My problem with his punitiveness schema was that I would end up believing that he would one day be punitive and overly forceful with me too, not just in his thoughts about other people–due to my own mistrust and subjugation schemas.

In reality, he has shown no signs that he would ever treat me punitively. I understand now that my unfounded fears say as much about me as they say about him. I grew up in constant fear of being punished under my parents’ control and have unfortunately carried those expectations about other people into my adult life.

The desire to punish others is very much a bully mentality. Perhaps we develop it from imitating bullies that we admire, such as friends or parents, or perhaps we end up identifying with people who have bullied us at school or in the workplace and adopt some of their behavior.

In an ideal world (no such thing exists), we would simply ignore those who aren’t worthy of our love and respect. We would have no excess negative energy to devote to wishing that they be punished for somehow not meeting our standards, whatever they may be. We would recognize that such people and such thoughts are a waste of our time.

And yet, sometimes we can derive pleasure from wishing failure or punishment upon others; I’ve done it too from time to time.

Being punitive is certainly an attempt at displaying power, even if it’s only imaginary power. We all need to feel a sense of power and control in our lives, so it makes sense that adopting a punitive stance toward the world can help us feel powerful, especially if we feel disempowered by circumstances in our lives.

I conclude that the major problem with having a punitive attitude is that, while it may impress some people as a show of power, it can repel many people and leave the punisher with an empty and unhappy feeling about people because they tend to avoid him.

In an intimate relationship, we have the choice to accept or reject the kinds of attitudes that our partners bring into our surroundings.

For some, a punitive attitude in a partner is something that can easily be dismissed as a mere personality quirk.

For others, like me, a punitive attitude in a partner feels like a constant threat, like a wasp buzzing around one’s head, which may land and sting at any moment, though in reality it might never sting.