Sunday, April 7, 2013
Appily Ever After? The Smartphone as Shrink
As the world became more complicated and full of anxieties, many of us traded our Magic 8 Balls for therapists and self-help gurus. (“Will I find true love?” Answer: “First, you need to learn to love yourself.”) But now a proliferation of psychology smartphone apps — with names like BreakkUp, iStress and myinstantCOACH — purports to help us live happier, less anxious lives. As Mark McGonigle, a therapist in Kansas City, Mo., who invented the app Fix a Fight, puts it: “Electronic devices don’t have to drive us apart. They can bring us together.” Which sounds so good. A few bucks and a lot of squinting into my phone: that certainly beats a $300-an-hour psychiatrist, right? But can an algorithm iron out the kinks in our existence? Will I be able to get my kids to do their homework, or calm down, or simply get my husband to stop nagging, all by following the protocol of these apps? I decided to test them against the stressors of my own less-than-peaceful life: work, cranky husband, twin 11-year-old boys. Over the course of two weeks, I did a lot of screen tapping — just as I used to spend hours shaking that Magic 8 Ball — and discovered the pleasures, and frustrations, of making my smartphone my shrink. Fix a Fight “Communication: it’s the sine qua non of a good marriage,” says Fix a Fight’s Mr. McGonigle and, you know, everyone else. My problem: It is tax season, so my husband and I are barely speaking. He is the kind of person who likes his receipts carbon-dated. I am not the best record keeper. Let me rephrase that: I am not a record keeper. We’ve been having the same panicky discussions for years, usually right before we go to sleep. They go like this. John: “Did you see that you are getting Comcast dividend checks? I thought you sold that.” Judith: “I’ll find out tomorrow.” John: “Oh, and do we have enough money in the checking account?” Judith: “For God’s sake, shut up. I can’t take it anymore. You know that when I’m tired I don’t want to think about money.” The process: My reaction is not, strictly speaking, what Fix a Fight would advise. The app instead shows how a fight is really a “golden opportunity for intimacy” if you process the emotions correctly. This involves: naming your feelings, identifying with your partner’s story, taking responsibility for your actions and describing how the fight will be different next time. So, John and I identify our feelings (anxiety is big on his list, exasperation on mine) and are instructed to explain our positions to each other. John: “Why are you typing this discussion into your phone?” Judith: “Never mind, just talk.” John’s feelings: “It’s all your fault, because it would be the simplest thing to hold on to your pay stubs.” Judith’s feelings: “I want a divorce.” Unfortunately, John and I never made it to the next steps because by that time we were already sleeping in separate rooms. Conclusion: My failure is not the fault of the app. It seems a sound approach, if you have two people willing to concede some ground. This was not going to happen. MoodKit My problem: On the moodiness scale, I wouldn’t say I’m Sybil, but I wouldn’t say I’m June Cleaver, either. The process: MoodKit, devised by two psychologists, is one of those whiz-bang apps that has so many things going on, you think you need a tutor just to learn how to use it. That puts me in a bad mood — which I can then track in my daily mood tracker. Other things I can do: read the 150-plus mood-lifting activities like “create something,” “choose your friends wisely” (Who has time for friends? I’ve got moods to track), “identify and write down three things you appreciate today.” And so forth.
Labels:
After,
Appily,
Shrink,
Smartphone
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