What is a disintegration? A loosening. A dissolution. When your mental structures and beliefs come tumbling down like a house of cards. But when we talk about disintegration we often think about those big, earth shattering transformations. Not a lot gets said about little disintegrations. What Dabrowski termed “partial disintegrations”. 

“The term disintegration is used to refer to a broad range of processes, from emotional disharmony to the complete fragmentation of the personality structure, all of which are usually regarded as negative.”

(Dąbrowski, 1964, p. 5)

So if there are a broad range of processes, then there must also be a scale of how big a disintegration can be – a range which can encompass both the big and hairy, and the small and fleeting. 

The Importance of Partial Disintegrations

However, the more I think about it, the more partial disintegration seems like something we should talk about. How often do you have a dark night of the soul? Not that often. But more minor meltdowns seem to happen a lot, especially with highly sensitive and intense individuals. I think it’s important to acknowledge these smaller moments, not only because they are far more likely to occur, but because we need to recognise them for what they are – to deal with them effectively, and try and make the most of them as a growth opportunity. 

While some might see ‘partial’ as a ‘lesser’ form of disintegration, the frequency and likelihood of little disintegrations give us a golden opportunity to fold these into our ongoing improvement of self. Make the most of our autopsychotherapy when the stakes aren’t so high. Otherwise what are you going to do? Sit around and wait for your world to catastrophically implode before you do something? I don’t think so!

But you might be wondering what a partial disintegration looks like. Would you like to see what my recent one looked like? How I felt? How I dealt with it? It was only a very small moment, but it had a profound effect.

Come inside my mental closet, and let me show you this little skeleton…

The Lead Up to My Breakdown

I’ve moved house recently. I didn’t just move across one or two suburbs. I took a sea change. For a better lifestyle. But the area is unfamiliar, and I’m having trouble adjusting to life in a new house. In the aftermath of packing, moving, and unpacking (which is stressful enough), all my routine is gone. All the old habits I had developed in the old house, which made daily life easy (without need for conscious thought) have gone. 

Now, I have to think about everything. 

Which cupboard are the coffee mugs in? How far do I turn the tap in the shower to get the right temperature? What night do I put the garbage bins out? All this constant thought is exhausting. I have to think in the house (where did I put that thing?), I have to think when I drive (where am I going?), I have to think in the supermarket (what aisle is the butter in again?). 

Everything is strange. Unfamiliar. Beautiful, but strange. And when things are strange you consciously notice them. Your brain no longer blocks things out or automatically accepts them. The noises the house makes at night are unbearable, not because they’re loud, but because I don’t yet know what they are, and therefore they frighten me. It’s like having continual sensory overload, and for someone with high sensual overexcitability, it’s a fucking nightmare.

“Experiences of shock, stress and trauma, may accelerate development in individuals with innate potential for positive development”

(Dąbrowski, 1970, p. 20)

See, I was primed. Like a fire place full of kindling and petrol. All it took was once small match, and my whole inner world went up in flames. I was already feeling uncertain about my physical place in the world. Unknowingly, I had been questioning why I had made such a drastic change in my life, simply because I was scared of all the new and shiny things I was seeing. Conflicted every time someone I knew commented about “moving away from them” (summoning the guilt demons). I already felt wobbly with no sense of routine or safety, and was full of doubt and fear. Then someone dropped one little straw on the camel’s back.

And so, I experienced a mini-disintegration. It wasn’t lengthy. It wasn’t catastrophically painful. But since I was already half-way upside down, this momentary undoing was enough to warrant pulling out the autopsychotherapy and trying to put myself back together again.

My Disintegration Unfolding

How it started

You might be asking yourself what sort of a horrible catalyst could cause this. Without giving too much away, I found out through a third party that someone close to me mistrusted me, to the point where they thought I might act in a way which is reprehensible. Needless to say I am not a reprehensible person, and their fears were totally unfounded. What they thought I might do is completely against my ethics.

But I believed this person should know me better, and I thought I had a good relationship with them. That this person could think me capable of being such an asshole, was a real shock. It threw many things up in the air – how well this person knows me, the stability of the relationship, and it made me question all my previous actions (what on earth had I actually done or said to make this person think I was potentially unethical scheming douchebag?).

Step 1 – Meltdown

Phase one of my mini-disintegration is pretty self explanatory. I fell apart and had a meltdown. I experienced several emotions, many related to level 3 dynamisms – shock, disquietitue (I was uncomfortable with myself), guilt and shame (what had I done to make them think I’m such a dick?), and dissatisfaction with myself (I started thinking it must be all my fault, because I self-blame a lot). I ended up in “Everybody secretly hates me. I am not good enough. I am a terrible person.” mode. I became the embodiment of misery, questioning what the point of my life is, and just wanted to crawl into a cave and stay there. Every belief I had about myself, and how I fit in to the world was shattered. 

Then I beat myself up over falling apart. How could something so innocuous as a bit of gossip have made me doubt my entire self? What the hell was wrong with me? Why are my feelings so catastrophically huge? Pull yourself together, woman!!!

But I worked through it. I felt it, and it hurt, and I cried a lot. But I came out the other side…

Step 2 – Assessment

Phase two was an assessment. After the tears stopped, the next stage was to think about what just happened and try and apply some logic to it. The steps I took relate to the level 4 dynamisms in positive disintegration. I applied self-awareness, and assessed my behaviour first. I used subject-object thinking to really examine my past actions towards this person. 

I realised that I hadn’t done anything to cause this, so I tried to see things from the other person’s perspective. Again, subject-object came into play. I started to understand they had their own reasons and pain which had been triggered. I then applied empathy to help heal my feelings about that person. When you see and feel things from the perspective of the person who hurt you, it really does help reduce your pain – it doesn’t diminish or invalidate your experience, but it does help your heart.

Step 3 – Plan

Phase three was a recalibration, and a plan of moving forward. How will I act around this person next time I see them? What can I say or do which will align with my values? I used the dynamism of creativity to try and imagine scenarios and how best to respond (depending on whether they pretend nothing happened, or things are awkward, or there is a confrontation).

My action plan also included some self-care. I was shook, and life had been chaos. In the short term I needed time to revive myself. 

I also (thanks to a chat with Chris Wells) had to remind myself of the role my overexcitabilities played in all this – the strength of my emotions, the lopsided nature of the relationship and the attachment I had to this person, and how my OE pushed me at a manic rate through the process. This all has to be a consideration the next time I have a mini-disintegration.

The Partial Disintegration Test

But was it ‘real’? I’m left with a two part puzzle. How can I be sure that what I experienced really was a disintegration, and how can I know if I moved positively? Let’s tackle the “positive” bit first…

“One also has to keep in mind that a developmental solution to a crisis means not a reintegration but an integration at a higher level of functioning”

(Dąbrowski, 1972, p. 245)

Did I develop at all? Did I try and push myself towards my personality ideal? Am I functioning at a higher level?  Have I done enough work? I’m not entirely sure. But I think as long as I AM doing the work, then that’s what counts, at least in the short term. 

Maybe I need to see if I can control my behaviours, feelings and attitudes when I see this person next? Learn to manage relationships in accordance with my values and my authentic self? I really don’t know. I don’t know if the work I’ve done will stick, or whether or not I’ll mess it up. All I do know is I still feel unsettled, and uncomfortable. 

But perhaps that’s a good sign? I definitely experienced the level 3 dynamisms Dabrowski describes in the theory, and unconsciously started applying the level 4 ones to reach a solution. The horrible feelings might simply be a necessary by-product of that process. I take hope from something Dabrowski wrote under his pen name, Pawel Cienin, in Fragments from the Diary of a Madman.

“This disruption, this “inner crying” and humiliation are the symptoms of authentism. We move away from rigidity, away from the feeling of dignity, pride and ambition. We begin to experience sadness in spite of and because of ourselves, humiliation in relation to ourselves, the feeling of inferiority toward ourselves: we begin to manifest disquietude within ourselves and the awareness that we are dying to ourselves.”

(Cienin, 1972, p.23)

“Inner crying”. I couldn’t think of a better way to describe it. This whole experience made me feel like shit. But never in my life, before finding the theory of positive disintegration, could I have ever dreamed of seeing the ‘positive’ in a disintegration like this. Or that a small moment like this could function as a partial disintegration. That I’d be reviewing it all, not focussed on the pain, but seeking glimmers of potential growth. And maybe that in itself is a sign that I’m growing?

If you feel yourself suddenly rip apart over something apparently small, I see you. 

If your world feels like everything is upside down, even if momentarily, I hear you. 

If your emotions are big, fat, dramatic, and unwieldy, I feel you. 

And if you’re wondering whether or not this state of fleeting chaos will result in real growth – just know that you’re not alone on that point.