The Fallacy of Catharsis

There’s an allure to the quick purge of healing. Many of us gravitate towards the perceived expediency of a one-time quick fix. And to get it, we’re willing to endure all kinds of pain.

Catharsis is ancient Greek for cleansing and purifying. It now means to release strong emotions with intensity, a purging of our inner burdens. Healing through catharsis looks like suffering through an exorcism.

But suffering doesn’t heal trauma, it makes it worse.

It’s easy to assume an experience of grueling intensity indicates impact. "No pain, no gain," we say, as if healing is determined by the number of weight reps we can do at our maximum capacity.

But it's not true.

Many of us who have unresolved trauma choose intense healing modalities that test the limits of our psychic and physical endurance. We emerge, pale and shaken, from a week of silence or a jungle breathwork retreat, clutching at the threads of our newfound self-realizations with every bit of strength that remains.

We assume that because our experience of trauma is intense, healing must be too. We’re easily seduced by the promise of catharsis, hoping that if we dive back into the pain, this time we can release its hold on us. 

Western culture loves the drama of catharsis. It's our modern-day conversion ceremony. We want to believe a single, intense experience will change us finally and forever. We search for the biggest, most powerful ways to interrupt our psyches, expecting that the electroshock of catharsis will cure us, once and for all.

But it doesn't work.

Catharsis is a fantasy born from our longing to be rid of the burden of trauma, as if we can shake it off like a horse throwing off an errant rider.

Trauma healing is not a once-and-done process. Creating the inner safety for the mind and body to heal takes time.

Because trauma happens from a lack of safety, care, and support, healing must rebuild those inner and outer foundations. The nervous system rebuilds itself in the process, creating neural pathways that pattern new experiences of wellbeing, connection, and delight.

Intensity and Trauma Healing Don't Mix

Catharsis often ends up retraumatizing our already overtaxed bodies. This re-traumatization happens because our nervous systems are already dysregulated and overwhelmed. Activities that might be edgy growth experiences for non-traumatized people quickly become too much for our nervous systems to handle.

This is not about willpower, character strength, or commitment.

We can't increase our nervous systems’ capacity by overloading our circuits. Instead, we need to build the capacity and confidence of our nervous system steadily. 

But this kind of healing doesn’t have the supernova flare of cathartic experiences that masquerade as healing. We don't earn battle stories or bragging rights. Instead, the soft purr of our bodies thanks us with better sleep, more hugs, and unexpected laughter.

Neuroscience is crystal clear why cathartic practices and trauma healing don't mix and instead risk refracturing our already burdened systems.

When our minds are committed to healing at all costs, it’s easy to miss signals from our bodies that we’re at capacity. We bypass the warning signs, thinking we need to try harder. We push through intensity and even speed up to “get it over with.” The mind tells us that healing is urgent. But the process shouldn’t be. Trauma requires the safety of slowness to heal.

In healing modalities that overload our nervous system, our bodies easily dissociate. It takes exquisitely careful tracking to learn to read our body's neuroceptive cues that we’re feeling unsafe. When we experience too much, too fast, too soon, without awareness, we may not even realize that we've dissociated. Healing can only happen when we land safely, slowly, back inside ourselves.

When we ignore our bodies’ signals and push towards intense healing, it’s hard to notice the subtleties of what we feel. We crash our self-esteem when we try to heal with intensity and catharsis. When our nervous systems can’t keep up, we tell ourselves the story that we're broken, not good enough, and will never heal. None of this is true, but it seems true when we try to heal by catharsis.

Another thing I've found in my work is that catharsis offers a short-term fix but doesn't give the body or mind tools for ongoing integration. It's hard to hold onto the breakthroughs, and we’re extra hard on ourselves for not being able to maintain our changed behavior.

It's more reliable and enjoyable to see healing as a journey with peaks, valleys, and plenty of places to rest.

Here's what to do when we find ourselves drawn towards the intensity of catharsis, to avoid retraumatizing ourselves.

How to Shift Urgency and Intensity in Trauma Healing

1. Notice the pull towards catharsis.

With trauma, our nervous systems become acclimatized to intensity and it’s difficult to down-regulate into relaxation. Becoming aware of how much we want to push ourselves is the first step to interrupting the pattern.

2. Slow down.

Slowing down feels almost impossible when we're trapped in the gravity well of intensity. But taking a pause is all we need for a different choice to present itself. Slowness may not feel safe, but we can work with whatever arises as part of the healing process, rather than trying to bypass and overpower it.

3. Give yourself breathing room.

Breath is an ever-present way to modulate our consciousness. Slowing down the breath helps the nervous system emerge from the activation of a stress response and shift into relaxation. Deep, forceful breaths can be over activating. Slow, light, gentle breaths into the lower belly are more supportive.  

4. Let go of what you think healing should look like.

We're used to seeing catharsis as the best model for healing. It takes courage to choose a different way. Recognizing catharsis as a cultural story is one way to reclaim our sovereignty and power. We choose our path. We decide what healing looks like.

 5. Commit to downregulating your nervous system with practices and tools.

I'm sure you already have a toolkit of movement, breath, and mindfulness practices to slow your system into a down-regulated state. But if you don't, I recommend my free 3-Minute Mindfulness course, which will teach you the fundamentals of mindfulness as an embodiment practice. I'm also thinking about teaching a free workshop on why and how to create an embodiment practice, so contact me if that's something you're interested in.

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When we explore healing modalities that support, rather than overwhelm, our nervous systems, we teach ourselves that we're worthy of safety and care. These are the messages that are often missing after trauma.

Instead of fighting our way through the intensity of catharsis, we can trust that our bodies know how to heal, when we feel safe and cared for.

I hope what we've explored here is helpful for your process. Next time you find yourself drawn to the furnace of catharsis, I hope you pause to consider if it's something that's truly supportive for your healing journey.

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