My inner critic is brutal. It uses all my intelligence against me, and will always find enough wiggle room to where I can’t really outright debunk any of its claims. Even if I do, it doesn’t acknowledge it in any way, it just picks another vector of attack. It was pivotal for me when I realized it wasn’t trying to argue with me or improve my behavior. It doesn’t care about truth or evidence, its only mission is to make me feel like the worst shit ever shat. It only welcomes argument because that gives it attention and more room to attack. Once I realized I had been playing by the wrong rules, I could actually start moderating it. Not by telling it to shut up, but by pointing out that I can see what it’s doing. I can just let it yammer on, and it hates that I don’t engage with it. It hates to be seen for what it is, because it sounds fucking ridiculous, especially when it gets desperate. Sunlight is the best disinfectant.

Having an inner critic is important, but if your parents dialed yours up to eleven, you just might want consider what the actual rules of engagement are.