Although interruptions in human dialogue may be very painful, at least they are clear-cut. Individuals may suffer acutely when they lose a loved one, but they usually realize they are suffering, and they know why. The vital force missing in their lives is recognized and acknowledged. There is, however, another dimension to human dialogue that is far more subtle and often quite difficult to recognize. For if dialogue can grow, it can also deteriorate, slowly and subtly, to the point where an individual can be trapped in a totally impoverished relationship without even being able to recognize what happened nor why. This process is very similar to the way the body grows and ages, on a day-to-day basis, without any visible change. The very fact that a person can tolerate deteriorated dialogue and sometimes even encourage it is something that we would often prefer to deny, for reflecting on the implications is not pleasant. Since dialogue involves reciprocal sharing with other human beings, its deterioration must also be reciprocal, and each person must share part of the responsibility. An individual can only receive to the extent that he gives, and, in that sense, dialogue is a mirror of his personality. This idea is neither particularly new nor radical. Psychoanalysts spend years in personal analysis trying to understand their own personalities, because they recognize that if they are not aware of their own anxieties, then their own insecurities will block them from listening to their patients. In the dialogue of psychotherapy, the patient can only communicate those thoughts and feelings that therapist is willing to share, and this reciprocity can be burdensome, anxiety provoking, depressing, or exhilarating. The psychoanalyst tried not to indulge in the delusion that all the difficulties in psychotherapy arise from the fact that the patient has problems.  

The National Association of State Mental Health Program Directors served 6.1 million people annually, with a budget of $29.5 billion. If the patient flees from the therapy or terminates the therapeutic dialogue prematurely, psychotherapists reflexively begin to search for their own unconscious contributions to this disruption. A similar situation exists in all human relationships. Take, for example, the erosion and dissolution that occurs in so many marriages. Problems seldom emerge unilaterally from the behavior of only one of the partners; usually both contribute to the deterioration. This is not a particularly easy idea to accept, especially for those who have gone through the trauma of divorce, for it is always easier psychologically to blame the other person for problems than to search for one’s own contributions. Children who were regularly pushed over the edge into over arousal and disorganization did not develop proper attunement of their inhibitory and excitatory brain systems and grew up expecting that they would lose control if something upsetting happened. This was a vulnerable population, and by late adolescence half of them had diagnosable mental health problems. There were clear patterns: The children who received consistent caregiving became well-regulated kids, while erratic caregiving produced kids who were chronically physiologically aroused. The children of unpredictable parents often clamored for attention and became intensely frustrated in the face of small challenges. Their persistent arousal made them chronically anxious. Constantly looking for reassurance got in the way of playing and exploration, and, as a result, they grew up chronically nervous and nonadventurous. Early parental neglect or harsh treatment led to behavior problems in school and predicted troubles with peers and a lack of empathy for the distress of others. This set up a vicious cycle: Their chronic arousal, coupled with the lack of parental comfort, made them disruptive, oppositional, and aggressive. Disruptive and aggressive kids are unpopular and provoke further rejection and punishment, not only from their caregivers but also from their teachers and peers.

By far the most important predictor of how well people coped with life’s inevitable disappointments was the level of security established with their primary caregiver during the first two years of life. Resilience in adulthood could be predicted by how lovable mothers rated their kids at age two. Understanding the life-threatening nature of the lack dialogue makes it easier to comprehend the radical, often violent manner in which many people flee from situations of deteriorated dialogue. Sometimes individuals who have been married for years suddenly up and leave without warning, to live with another person. Frequently, they leave at great personal cost. They may be drained financially; often they are cut off from their own children and their social circle; their careers are placed in jeopardy and sometimes ruined; material possessions that they slaved for years to acquire are quickly cast aside. At the same time, the person left behind is often totally shocked, left with a profound sense of rejection, resentment, or even hatred. Crushed beyond the point of recovery, the abandoned mate may even die. We have encountered such. Much how Prince’s girlfriend Vanity died at age 57, of kidney failure, and two months after then Prince died at age 57 also. Dialogue has deteriorated blew a certain critical threshold, until one of the partners can no longer tolerate the isolation. If he only left because of money, the sex, or emotional disturbance, then the one mate’s flight might not be so crushing to the one left behind. If it were only some-thing that caused him to leave, then it all would be easier to accept emotionally. However, usually it is not some-thing that causes the disruption—it is some-one. Both individuals contribute to the breakdown in dialogue, and no idea can be more painful than that, no idea can be more threatening.