Newsletter #18

The Cunning Voice Within: How Our Ego Deceives Us Into Self-Sabotage

Hi there,

I’ve been spending a bit of time at Edinburgh Recovery House this last few weeks. Talking to guys who are in the very early stages of recovery. Guys who have pushed their drinking as far as it can go. They’ve finally plummeted to their absolute rock bottom. They’ve finally realised their lives are in tatters.

I know how hard those first few days and weeks of sobriety are. Not only are you dealing with the physical withdrawal of alcohol. But you’re also coming to terms with the unfathomable situation you’ve found yourself in.

A situation completely of your own making. A situation of complete self-sabotage

It’s easy to point at addicts and say “I’m glad I’m not like that.” But I believe we all have a secret ‘self-sabotage’ button. Maybe it’s a bit more subtle than the life-ruining nature of alcoholic self-sabotage but it’s there none the less.

The Addict Voice Within

Every addict will tell you that there's a very convincing voice inside our heads that's remarkably intelligent. It knows exactly what to say to convince us that one more drink or drug or bet or binge eating won't hurt. It conjures up some exceptionally reasonable arguments why going back to the bad stuff is a good idea.

How we deserve a break. How it will be different this time.

I remember that voice so clearly. In my early recovery, after a few weeks of not drinking, I’d be feeling good. I’d be feeling fitter. Life was beginning to look rosier. And then that voice would sneak into my head and say “You’ve got this alcoholism beat, Simon. Why not have a drink to celebrate? No one will find out. No one will ever know.”

And so it would convince me to have a sneaky little drink, even when every fibre of my being knew it would end in disaster.

Obviously, that voice is me. That voice is part of me, convincing me to drink when another part of me absolutely doesn’t want to. I talk myself in to doing something I vehemently don’t want to do.

This voice - this internal saboteur - operates with such a sophistication that it would be mightily impressive if it weren't so destructive. It knows when I'm stressed that alcohol will calm my nerves. It knows when I'm celebrating that I deserve a blow out like evryone else. It knows when I'm on holiday that everyone drinks at the airport Whetherspoons at 7am. It knows when I'm home alone that a drink provides a bit of comfort that only I know about.

Different situations. Different rationalisations. Same disastrous outcome every time.

Recovery communities have a phrase to describe the nature of this internal saboteur. We call it "cunning, baffling, and powerful." We’re actually describing the nature of our addiction, but we might as well be describing the ego itself - that part of us that consistently talks us into choices we know will cause problems later down the line.

We all have this voice. This internal deceiver that masquerades as logical advice while leading us towards actions that we really don’t want to take.

Recognise any of these?

The argument you escalate. You could walk away. You could take a breath. But your ego thinks you need to make your point. That being right matters more than being kind. The voice turns amicability into a fight.

The boundary you don't set. You’re being taken advantage of. You need to be clear about your expectations but your voice convinces you to stay quiet. You don't want to be difficult. You don’t want to cause conflict. It’s easier to put up with it to avoid the fuss.

The corner you cut. Just this once. The ego is masterful at creating exceptions. The client won't notice. Everyone does it. You're behind schedule. The small compromise feels justified until it becomes a pattern. Until you're doing it more often than not.

The second slice of cake. You’re full. You aren’t hungry. But your ego sees more cake right there in front of you. "You deserve this." "You've been good all week." "Life is too short." Each reason sounds reasonable in isolation. Together, they're irresistible. A little bit more of what you fancy can’t do any harm, right? 

The Four Faces of Deception

This cunning aspect of our psyche operates through four distinct qualities, each more insidious than the last.

First, it hides in plain sight. We hear the ego's voice all the time. It’s that incessant chattering you encounter when you try to sleep but can’t. It becomes like background noise. It’s so constant we barely notice. It’s usually a fear-based chatter. Full of limiting beliefs about our worth, streams of self-criticism, and countless reasons why we're not good enough. It all blends into the one very familiar pattern of thinking. We believe it’s natural to think like that. It’s just how our minds work. We don't even consider that we're being manipulated by our own fearful thoughts.

Second, it demonstrates remarkable intelligence. Despite being fundamentally a one-trick pony, the ego shows amazing creativity in its approach. I bet your worries about money manifest in a thousand different ways; so many reasons point out that you don’t have enough. I suspect it’s the same with your insecurity about relationships; your ego will find endless new ways to attack you and show you why you’re not lovable. I know this because my voice tells me the exact same things. Same core fear. Infinite variations on the theme.

Third, it generates confusion. The ego thrives in uncertainty. It keeps us unclear about the truth; our true worth, our true capabilities, our true direction. We become paralysed by questions that shouldn't be at all complicated: How do I value myself? What am I capable of achieving? What's my purpose here? We don’t need to justify the worth of our life. But our ego thinks we need detailed and cast-iron proof.

Fourth, it operates through deception. The ego convinces us we're inadequate while simultaneously using that inadequacy to justify destructive choices. No body loves me because I’m fat - I might as well eat more ice cream. I’m late for a meeting because I was sucked into social media - I might as well come up with an excuse, bin the meeting and continue scrolling. It pits different aspects of ourselves against each other - the part that wants health versus the part that craves comfort, the part that seeks connection versus the part that fears vulnerability.

The Global Stage

What’s interesting is that this inner saboteur isn't just a personal phenomenon. Look around at the world we live in and you'll see these same self-destructive patterns playing out on a massive scale.

We’ve built economies that survive only by mass producing things we don’t really need whilst depleting the planet of its natural resources that gives us life.

We are working so hard that we’re putting ourselves into early stressful graves.

We are eating so much that more people are now more likely to die from obesity than starvation.

The same voice that convinces me that "just one drink" won’t do any harm seems to whisper in to humanity's collective ear about choices that serve neither our individual nor collective wellbeing.

Ancient Warnings

And we can’t say we haven’t been warned. The writing was on the wall thousands of years ago. That’s because the bible begins with a the story of the serpent—cunning, hidden, deceptive.

This isn't just an ancient myth. This is a warning about the deceptive nature at the heart of humanity; within our individual and collective human nature.

The serpent in Eden represents the voice that makes destructive choices seem reasonable.

“Have a chomp of this juicy apple. It’s lovely”

“I’m pretty sure God said not to.”

“But it’s from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. How can that be a bad thing?”

“Well when you put it like that….”

The serpent’s influence separates us from our deeper, intuitive wisdom. It’s the cunning intelligence that knows exactly how to convince us that what we know is harmful will somehow, this time, work out well.

We've been warned about this from the very beginning.

The Path Forward

So how do we deal with this cunning, baffling, powerful ego of ours?

The first step towards freedom is awareness. We need to recognise the sneaky whisper and identify the ego's voice for what it is. When we can see it is not wise counsel, but cunning manipulation, then we create a bit of space between our true self and our false self’s (ego’s) suggestions. That space allows us to pause and consider the full ramifications of the suggested actions. It allows us to play out the ensuing scenario right to the end. If I take this drink now will I really be happy in an hour’s time? Am I likely to be drunk the by the end of the night? Will I be proud of myself tomorrow?

The pause is our salvation.

From that space we should ignore the voice. We don’t fight it. Resistance only gives it more energy. Remember the advice to “resist not evil”.

Our goal is to withdraw attention away from the allure of the destructive patterns and redirect it to the benefits of the action we actually want to take.

When the voice suggests you need that drink / cake / social media fix, don't argue with it. Simply turn your attention elsewhere. Turn your attention to the action your true self wants to take. To the person you want to become. To the life you want to build. To the relationships you want to nurture.

The serpent's power lies in deception. Once we see through the deception, ignore its allure, and repeatedly refuse to act on its suggestions, its influence begins to fade.

Not immediately. Not easily. But inevitably. That was my experience with those voices urging me to drink. They pestered me for months. But not now. I don’t hear them any more. Not the drinking ones anyway.

But the cunning voice will always be there, in some guise or other, ready with its sophisticated rationalisations. Ready to persuade me, and you, that some other form of self-sabotage is a good idea.

But we don't have to listen. We don't have to obey.

We can choose to pause and act differently. One whisper at a time. One decision at a time. One day at a time.

Until next time,

Simon