Your Inner Critic is an Asshole
And probably still drunk
Disclaimer: This is another good time to remind you, dear reader, that I’m just a recovering alcoholic, sharing my best interpretation of certain things with you. I was in the software industry, where human-ing is detrimental to productivity, and emotions were treated like code bugs. Everything I say here might very well be wrong from the perspective of someone who actually knows their shit.
You know that voice in your head? The one that sounds suspiciously like you, but if you were meaner, drunker, and armed with a megaphone?
Yeah. That guy.
That’s your inner critic—and mine. The one who wakes up before you do, has his coffee, lights a cigarette inside your brain, so you wake up to him muttering things like:
“You’re behind.”
“You’re not doing enough.”
“Everyone can tell you’re faking it.”
“You’re gonna fail again. Might as well start now.”
He’s not new. He was there before the addiction, and he got louder every time you fell down. Now that you’re sober? He’s furious you’re trying to heal without him. He’s been drinking behind the barn and sharpening insults in case you try any nonsense like loving yourself.
But here’s the twist:
He’s not you.
He’s a symptom. A shadow. A squirrel-shaped parasite built out of fear, shame, trauma, and some outdated wiring from your caveman brain.
And we’re gonna fight back.
🔄 Meet DBT: Your Critic’s Worst Nightmare
DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) is a form of therapy originally created to help people who felt emotions like hurricanes and responded like wrecking balls. (Hi. Hello. Welcome.)
It teaches you two opposing things at once:
How to accept yourself where you are
How to try to change so you won’t think that emotions are killing you
And it does this through skills. Actual tools. Stuff you can use today to turn down the volume in your head. Stuff that may sound so stupid at first your head explodes. Stuff that works.
Let’s talk about two in particular.
🧯TIPP: When Your Emotions Are Setting Fires in the Basement
Sometimes your inner critic doesn’t just talk. It hijacks the controls, breaks the speed limit, and launches you head-on into panic, rage, or despair.
That’s where TIPP comes in—a DBT skill for emotion regulation in the heat of the moment.
T – Temperature:
Splash cold water on your face. Hold an ice pack to your neck. Shock your system gently. This tells your brain, “We’re not dying, just spiraling.” Stick your face into a sink of ice water and activate your “dive reflex”, which tells your body you’re drowning, and slows down your heart rate.
I – Intense Exercise:
Ten jumping jacks. A fast-paced walk around the block. Dance like you’re on “Dancing With the Squirrels”. Burn off the adrenaline before it buries you.
P – Paced Breathing:
Inhale four seconds. Hold for four. Exhale six. Repeat until the squirrels stop screaming.
P – Progressive Muscle Relaxation:
Tense everything. Then slowly release. Reclaim your body before your thoughts steal it.
TIPP doesn’t fix your life. It just gives you a damn minute to remember that you have one. And you might be so busy feeling silly you forget what got you knotted up for a minute.
💬 DEARMAN: How to Speak Without Screaming (Even to Yourself)
DBT also teaches you interpersonal effectiveness—how to ask for what you need without turning into a puddle or a volcano.
Even if the “person” you’re negotiating with is your own anxiety, that asshole.
DEARMAN stands for:
Describe what’s happening
Express your feelings
Assert your needs clearly
Reinforce why it matters
Mindful—stay on topic
Appear confident even if you’re shaking
Negotiate—it’s okay to compromise
Example:
“Hey brain, I hear you saying I’m a failure. That hurts. I need you to take a seat, because I’m trying to heal. If you can’t be helpful right now, go eat drywall in the attic. We’ll talk later.”
Sound ridiculous? Cool. So does what you did in active addiction. You’ve never let being silly stop you before.
🧠 Your Inner Critic Isn’t a Prophet. He’s a Drunk Historian.
The critic doesn’t know your future. He just remembers your past—and he’s terrible at context. He doesn’t care that you’re healing. He just wants to keep himself safe by scaring you into submission.
But fear is not a strategy.
And shame is not a personality.
You can’t kill the inner critic. But you can stop letting him hold the steering wheel.
🐿️ The Squirrel Choir of Doom
Let’s be honest: this voice? It doesn’t always come solo. Sometimes it's a whole committee—the Squirrel Council of Worthlessness. They take minutes. They quote old mistakes. They host Ted Talks on why you're doomed.
But just because the squirrels are yelling doesn’t mean they get the microphone.
Your job is not to silence them forever.
It’s to remind them who’s in charge.
Reminder: It’s sober you.
🛠️ Things That Help (Even If They Feel Stupid)
Write it down. Give your inner critic a name. A job title. Make them absurd. ("Karen, VP of Doom Projections.")
Practice TIPP or grounding. Trick your nervous system into calm.
Say it out loud. “That’s not true.” “That’s fear talking.” “I’m not listening to that today.”
Use opposite action. When your critic says “don’t bother,” do it anyway and mentally flip that critic the bird.
Keep a list of facts. Things you’ve survived. Things you’ve done well. Moments you helped someone else. That’s real stuff right there.
Ask for help. Text your sponsor. Call a friend. DM a stranger on Reddit who posts about squirrels.
🎯 Final Thought: You Don’t Owe That Voice Anything
That critic in your head? He doesn’t get the last word.
You do.
And if that word today is “no,” “not yet,” or “screw you, I’m trying,”—good.
You’re winning.
The critic is loud because you’re changing, and he’s terrified you don’t need him any more.
And change is loud.
Let him scream.
You’ve got squirrels. You’ve got DBT. You’ve got every damn reason to believe in your own redemption arc.
And you’ve got coffee.
Let’s go.
