Dr Albert Ellis on, well, Freud obviously.
Albert Ellis was my first therapeutic love. He was an American psychiatrist who invented rational emotive behavioral therapy (REBT) – basically the psychological process we now call cognitive behavioral therapy, or CBT. My parents, cleverly spotting a brewing nuttiness (Dad is a psychiatrist and Mum a GP), gave me his Guide to Rational Living when I was about eighteen, and jolly helpful I found it too. I made a fist of my 20s, but I think the whole debacle would have been far worse without Albert Ellis.
I also admired Antony Kidman, an Australian Ellis disciple, who wrote an excellent series of workbooks that they used to sell in ABC shops. Tony is Nicole’s dad. I always thought he must’ve found Tom Cruise’s incendiary ideas about psychiatry particularly distasteful. Cause, you know, they are.
Dr Ellis started out as a psychoanalyst in the 1940s, but later decided childhood trauma has “nothing to do with the price of spinach,” and came to the conclusion that headlines this post. So he thrust off Freudian chicanery, and, by 1955, he’d outlined his ABC method, where A is the Activating Event, B is the beliefs we hold about that event, and C are the Emotional Consequences of our idiotic and delusional Bs. So, for example, A is the fact that our first IVF cycle was cancelled*, B is me extrapolating from that that my second cycle will be identical, and C is a debilitating, self-pitying despondency.
= my bad.
Alternatively, A is the fact that our first IVF cycle was cancelled, B is me thinking that was a weird-arse aberration given my general excellence in all matters and complete inability to fail, and C is me feeling expectant and ecstatic standing in a freshly painted nursery gleefully throwing baby clothes in the air.
Also = my bad. But see how different Bs create different Cs? Obviously, as Sir James Chettam can confirm, the proper way of thinking is the reasonable way.
I wrote to him once. (Albert Ellis, not Sir James, who’s fictional.) I wrote him an email, and he answered it immediately, probably because it was about 1992 and there were only, like, four emails produced that year worldwide. I was going through my Sartre phase (yeah, whatever) and it struck me that in fact it was pretty much the same reasoning. Something happens in the world, and we must intellectually and emotionally position it somewhere, and because we are free, we are free to position it where we will. As that most famous of all nutters, Hamlet, says, “there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” It’s always puzzled me that people find this nihilistic, when I think it is the very opposite – it’s the very foundation of real virtue. Anyway, I wrote to ask him what the difference was between REBT and existentialism, and he wrote back and said good question, very little, and I was chuffed. I kept that email for ages, but I’ve lost it now.
These days, in the US, more than two-thirds of therapists follow some kind of variant on REBT.

Did everyone really notice that collar and tie? And how come genius crackpots always have greasy hair? Cause it makes their brains juicier?
Hmph.
Anyway, I was thinking about Albert Ellis today, because, fearing I was going out of my fucking mind, I went to see one of the counsellors at the IVF clinic. What a goddamn waste of time. It’s not that the conseller wasn’t lovely; to be sure, she was sweet and chockers with empathy. But – and perhaps I’m too demanding – but there was no stretch or challenge to it. Everything I’m feeling is entirely normal, apparently. In fact I knew that, but I wanted to talk about it all the same.
Anyway, it was futile. What helps me is the hilarious, sophisticated types on the IVF blog network. What helps me is hearing Melvyn Bragg explain about Socrates had to say about virtue. What helps me is imagining Albert Ellis, at four, in hospital with nephritis, saying, “If I die, I die. Fuck it, it’s not the end of the world.”
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Heavily referenced in this post: A New Yorker article about Ellis on his 90th birthday. There is much more to be said about Ellis. He was a brilliant practitioner, but he got the sack from, ironically, the Albert Ellis Institute. He married his assistant, who was Australian, and who they say controlled him, although people who knew him well seem to find that unlikely. Seriously, you should google him.
*I haven’t mentioned this before, but, yeah, didn’t work out. That was a bad week – more on all that later.

Yeah, the clinic counsellors are well intentioned, but I’m allergic to that sort of stuff.
I couldn’t get out of my mandatory appointment fast enough. I get it, IF feels like shit, IVF isn’t a walk in the park, and also feels like shit when it goes tits up.
All they can do is radiate empathy and make a note in the file.
Mind you, I have little patience for most forms of talking therapies, CBT…maybe, the rest, nah. Damnit, the drugs work. I don’t know why the average psychiatrist is so resistant to the idea of something other than their over-thought-over-analysed-gulided words doing the trick.
Pah!
J
(Pardon the gratuitous use of the T and S words)
interesting! thanks for the post.
Jesus, this is one of those times where I am having trouble finding the right words. However, I believe it is better to say something than to say nothing – isn’t it?
Hey mate, IVF takes out all the lovely parts of getting knocked up and the technical/clinical replacement is a pretty hard slog. Throw in some rampant hormones and there’s bound to be some sort of mini melt-down. So maybe these feelings are normal for people going through IVF but that doesn’t make it any easier does it? And knowing that isn’t really helpful I don’t think. I find the best treatment for my deep-rooted melancholy is a lot of alone time and staring at the ceiling, but then what would I know? That’s me and you know what works for you. I’m thinking of you.
Leilani
Actually, alone + ceiling works for me too. Thanks for lovely thoughts.
Geohde
Ain’t that the truth.
hey ginger. i feel equal parts sympathy for your predicament and awe at your beautiful skill in describing it. Agreed: talking with someone who agrees that you have reason to be depressed doesn’t really help! I do recommend exercise that makes you vomit because it will take your mind off everything else, at least for that hour or so, inject you with endorphines and give you strength to get through whatever you must. I had another dream the other day – you and Karen and Nic and I plus a huge crowd were in a tall sky scraper built around a quadrangle. we were all on the balconies around the quadrangle and heaps of people jumped off. They floated and bounced off air pockets and landed safely and when i asked why, you said ‘it’s the monks, they’ve left their magic’. and then we jumped and also floated and bounced. Assuming dreams are flotsam and jetsam, it must be a combination of the monks of burma, reading Incredibly Loud etc and our various stories. I woke up feeling very optimistic.
Exercise that makes you vomit make take your mind off things but it also makes you vomit. In a nutshell, that’s my problem with it.
Nice one about the jumping castle. I like the cushiony softness angle.
Also, have you seriously changed your name? Is this what the militant women’s officer at UNSW has come to?