Let’s say that you’ve had an argument with your partner. And now you can’t sleep. You’re just lying in bed, going over and over what happened. But something feels off, like it has for a while. And you just can’t put your finger on what it. You know what happened. You remember the words. But somehow, when you replay the whole incident, you keep criticizing yourself.

Maybe I’m being too sensitive.
Maybe I am being a drama queen.
Maybe I’m the one causing the problem.

Over and over and over. If it seems as though you are always the problem, you could be the victim of psychological control, which is really abuse. It doesn’t mean that every time you have a disagreement or argument that you’re an abuse victim. All relationships have these. But if you are always the one at fault, it could be the situation.

And if you’ve read this far, some part of you already knows. You don’t have to be ready to say it out loud. You don’t even have to tell anyone else. But you’re here. And that’s enough. So, keep going, because if that’s the case, here are some things you can do today to reclaim your mind from abuse.

Remember How You Used to Be

Do you remember that things weren’t always like this? Maybe before you met someone? When you used to trust yourself. When you knew what you wanted. And you let people know where they stood without having to prepare a legal defense first. But it’s all different now Every thought comes with a counter-argument. Every instinct gets cross-examined. And every reaction gets labeled as “overreacting.”

And the weirdest is that you’re doing it to yourself. Except… are you?

Here’s what many people don’t realize: in certain kinds of relationships, your inner voice can get slowly replaced. Not all at once. Not obviously. But over time:

• Your own perceptions are questioned until you question them yourself – automatically
• Your instincts are called as “overreactions” – then you stop trusting them
• And everything you say gets labeled as selfish, dramatic, or cruel
• Then you just stop talking because it’s always your default

Then eventually, the other person doesn’t even need to say anything. Because you’re already hearing their voice is already running inside your head. Without sounding dramatic myself, let me tell you what that is: thought control. Mind colonization.

Who Controls Your Inner Dialogue

This is something Irish domestic abuse researcher Don Hennessy has written about for decades: certain relationships work by occupying your mental space, your mind. And that goal isn’t to just influence your behavior — it’s controlling how you talk to yourself. Literally. How you interpret events, yourself, even your reality. Seriously.

Dr. Robert Jay Lifton observed the same phenomenon on a larger scale as a goal in Mao Zedong’s thought-reform camps in the 1940’s. In his recent book Losing Reality: On Cults, Cultism, and the Mindset of Political and Religious Zealotry, he notes: “the totalist environment seeks to establish domain over not only the individual’s communication with the outside (all that he or she sees and hears, reads and writes, experiences, and expresses), but also—in its penetration of one’s inner life—over what we may speak of as one’s communication with oneself.”

“The totalist environment seeks to establish domain over not only the individual’s communication with the outside, but also—in its penetration of one’s inner life—over what we may speak of as one’s communication with oneself.”

Losing Reality: On Cults, Cultism, and the Mindset of Political and Religious Zealotry – by Dr. Robert Jay Lifton

But you don’t have to know what to call it for yourself yet.

Maybe you’re reading this and thinking, “But I’m not in an abusive relationship.” or “This is crazy. No one can control someone else’s mind.” And maybe you’re right. But maybe you’re not sure.

Or maybe the word “abuse” feels too big, too dramatic or too final for what you’re experiencing. That’s okay. You don’t need a label to start taking your mind back. You just need to quietly notice what’s happening. And there’s a way to start doing that — privately, safely, without anyone knowing — that might reveal more than you expect.

Why “Thinking Your Way Out” Doesn’t Work

If you’ve tried to fix this already, maybe with positive thinking, you may have attempted to “challenge negative thoughts” or “replace them with positive ones.” How’d it go? For most people in this situation, it backfires. Because the issue isn’t that your thoughts are negative. It’s because they aren’t entirely yours.

You’ve probably been changed, especially by constant criticism. Don Hennessy calls this “mind colonization.” And trying to overwrite a colonized inner voice with affirmations can make things worse. First-person statements like “I am strong” or “I trust myself” might feel fake or even triggering.

If that’s your experience, that reaction is information.
It tells you something is still running in the background.

Before you can reclaim your voice, you have to disrupt the occupation.

This is where mirror work — used correctly — becomes powerful.

Mirror Work as Affirmation

Mirror work is a way of communicating with the subconscious—specifically the parts of the mind that store identity, self-belief, and internalized voices. It’s often marketed as a self-love practice. You’ve probably heard of Louise Hay, who popularized mirror affirmations in the 1980s. She credited mirror work with her remission from cervical cancer and strongly influenced a generation of young men suffering with AIDS. It isn’t woo-woo. It’s a very simple method: just look at yourself in the mirror, make eye contact with yourself and say something affirming like “I love you.”

And if you’re like me, you might have stumbled across Claude Bristol’s The Magic of Believing at some point — I found it in 6th grade, and as a child of abuse, it changed my life.

I discovered Bristol’s work because Phyllis Diller credited him with her success as one of the world’s first female comics. She also said that the book changed her life. Diller used his mirror techniques to become one of the first woman comics to survive an industry that was designed to crush her. Ironically, quite a number of Bristol’s statements themselves reek of misogyny, but my motto has always been to take what you want and leave the rest.

Using Mirror Work as De-Occupation

But here’s what’s different about using mirror work when your mind has been colonized: Traditional mirror work — the Hay and Bristol versions — is about installing new beliefs. Talking yourself into confidence and overcoming doubt with determination. This is all very useful when you’re like Phyllis and shoring up your defenses against a world that underestimates you.

But it doesn’t work the same way when the system is already inside your head. When it’s you talking to you.

Used in this context, mirror work isn’t about convincing yourself of anything. It’s about interrupting those critical, automatic thought patterns and restoring your agency. Agency is the sense of feeling like you are in control of your own thoughts and destiny. And when you look into the mirror and are only aware of criticism, it may be evidence that someone else has installed those self-critical patterns that have become automatic and robbed you of your agency.

And if that’s the case, you can start interrupting those critical voices right here and now. This instant. Even if you’re not sure if that’s actually what’s happening. Even if you’re still in the relationship. Even if the word “abuse” doesn’t feel like it fits.

And the best part, is that it’s completely private. You can do it anytime, anywhere.

Start Where You Are

You don’t have to wait until you’re out of a relationship. You don’t even have to be sure about what you’re actually dealing with. This practice is entirely diagnostic — it’s just data. It shows you what’s there.

Fair warning: This is going to be uncomfortable for everyone at first.

Like, really uncomfortable. Not very many of us are comfortable looking in the mirror and questioning ourselves. And if your inner world has been colonized, looking yourself in the eye might feel excruciating at first. You might panic. Your mind might race. And you may even feel exposed, ashamed, or like you’re doing something wrong.

That’s normal. That’s the system defending itself. But keep going, it gets better.

Start with 10 seconds. Literally. Set a timer if you need to. Ten seconds of looking at yourself in the mirror. That’s it.

And if ten seconds feels impossible, start with five. Or three. There’s no minimum threshold for this to “count.” You’re not failing if you can only manage a glance. Because the goal isn’t to power through. It’s to notice what happens when you try it.

Then, over days or weeks, you can gradually build up. Fifteen seconds. Twenty. A minute. However long it takes for your nervous system to realize this isn’t actually dangerous. Here’s how to begin, safely, in your own home:

Step 1: Pick a moment when you’re alone

Bathroom. Bedroom. Anywhere with a mirror and a closed door. This takes 60 seconds eventually — but you might start with 10. No one needs to know you’re doing it.

Step 2: Look at yourself

Not a glance. Actually look. Make eye contact with yourself in the mirror.

If you can only hold it for a few seconds before you have to look away, that’s your starting point. Notice how long you can do it before the discomfort becomes overwhelming. That’s your baseline.

Tomorrow, try for one second longer.

Step 3: Notice what happens

Don’t try to feel anything specific. Just notice:

• What thoughts arise?
• What does your body do?
• Do you hear criticism? Whose voice does it sound like?
• Can you hold your own gaze, or do you look away?
• What makes you want to stop?

Step 4: Experiment with different “voices“

Try saying something simple out loud — or just in your head if speaking feels too risky:

Try it first in third person:
“She’s allowed to take up space.”
“She didn’t make this up.”

Then in second person:
“You’re allowed to trust what you notice.”
“You don’t owe anyone an explanation for how you feel.”

And finally, in first person (when you’re ready):
“I see what’s happening.”
“I trust my perception.”

Notice which one lands for you. Which one your body rejects. And if any of them feels impossible.

That’s the information. That’s the data you need.

Step 5: Keep it to yourself

This practice works best when it’s yours alone. You don’t have to tell anyone you’re doing it. You don’t have to explain it, justify it, or prove it’s working. So, if someone asks what you’re doing, you’re just washing your face, checking your teeth, fixing your hair.

This is reconnaissance. You’re gathering data about your own mind.

Step 6: Build gradually

If you started with 10 seconds today, try 12 tomorrow. Or 15 next week. There’s no rush. Some people need months before they can look into their own eyes for a full minute without their chest tightening.

That isn’t failure. It’s how deep the occupation goes.

Your uncomfortability will decrease over time. Not because you’re “getting stronger,” but because you’re slowly convincing your nervous system that you can witness yourself.

What this shows you (that you might not expect)

When I first started doing this, I couldn’t even look at myself for more than two seconds. I felt like I saw something that I wasn’t supposed to and felt creepy. It took a few weeks before I could manage thirty seconds without feeling like I was going to crawl out of my skin.

My therapist had me repeat some of Louise Hay’s phrases and I noticed that some of those phrases made my chest tighten. Others made me want to cry with from relief. It was like hearing a language I’d forgotten that I spoke. And here’s what became clear:

If first-person statements feel impossible, it isn’t a character flaw. It means someone has convinced you that you’re not allowed to be the narrator of your own life.

If you hear a critical voice that isn’t quite yours, pay attention to whose phrasing it uses. Whose judgment does it remind you of?

And if looking at yourself feels like an interrogation, that tells you something about how you’ve been trained to see yourself. And if you can only manage a few seconds before you have to look away, that’s exactly where you need to start.

This practice doesn’t fix anything right away. But although it may take a while, your nervous system can’t be rushed. What the practice does do is make the occupation visible. And once you can see it, you can begin to disrupt it. Occupations end.

Your 3 Internal Voices

Here’s what I noticed in my own recovery, and what other people have told me about themselves: the inner dialogue doesn’t come in one grammatical form. And this isn’t just your old English teacher grading your paper. Everyone has them. And it matters a lot more than you’d think.

Third Person: The Observer

This voice sounds like:

• “She’s allowed to take up space.”
• “She didn’t make this up.”
• “She adapted to survive.”

Third person creates distance. It lets you observe without self-attack. Early in this process — even before you’re sure what you’re dealing with — this voice is often the safest place to stand. It helps you map what’s happening without forcing identity-level claims before you’re ready.

Second Person: The Protector

This voice sounds like:

• “You don’t have to answer that.”
• “You’re allowed to stop.”
• “You’re not crazy.”

Bristol was onto something when he wrote in second person throughout The Magic of Believing — though he was using it to pump people up for sales success, not help them survive psychological warfare.

Second person functions like an internal boundary-setter — a calm, non-abusive authority. For many people, this voice feels more trustworthy than “I” statements at first. It provides scaffolding while the self is still coming back online.

Where Bristol used “you” to install confidence, you can use it to install safety.

First Person: Your Reclaimed Self

This voice is quieter than a lot of people expect:

• “I trust my perception.”
• “I choose myself.”
• “I’m done explaining.”

First person only works when the inner critic no longer dominates. When it returns organically, it doesn’t shout. It doesn’t perform. It simply states. Louise Hay’s “I love you” mirror work lives here — in first person. And for some people, that eventually lands. But not at first. Not when a person’s mind is still occupied.

Mirror work helps you notice which voice is speaking — and more importantly, which one no longer deserves the microphone.

The Big Shift

This shift doesn’t always announce itself with confidence or joy. Often, it shows up as something subtler:

• Less explanation
• Fewer internal arguments
• More pauses
• More silence that feels safe

That isn’t emptiness. That’s reclaimed space. If your mind has been occupied, this process is about taking the room back.

Mirror work doesn’t tell you who to become. It helps you recognize who is — and is not — speaking.

And once you know that? It’s the start of the recovery process. Welcome.