Affective Blocks: The Key to Emotional Resilience. Part 2
Thanks to affective blocks, we develop a certain level of discomfort that remains manageable. This discomfort doesn’t bother me because I know with certainty that it will pass, my needs will be met, and comfort will return. But beyond this manageable discomfort, there comes a point where it becomes significant—I no longer just tolerate it; I demand relief. A child, for example, expects their mother to rush in and provide what they need.
This manageable discomfort is often mistaken for patience. But in reality, the psyche doesn’t register it as patience at all. The person simply doesn’t notice this phase because, in their perception, “everything is fine.” They are already in a state of internal comfort, as their psyche no longer perceives the situation as a problem.
However, when discomfort becomes unbearable, a person turns into an “inflamed problem solver”—they must urgently find a new apartment, get a job, or fix their child’s bad grade. In this state, they lose the ability to see the bigger picture. Their focus narrows to a single task: “I must fix this right now.” It’s the same mechanism we see in a child throwing a tantrum over a cookie—their psyche is locked onto one need, and no amount of reasoning will help. For an adult, it might look like panicked job applications after being laid off—not in pursuit of the right job, but simply any job. In this mindset, they fail to see the possibilities life is offering them.
Understanding how affective blocks work is key not only to interacting with children but also to managing ourselves. If we constantly fight against ourselves, no amount of forced calm will help. The goal is not just to endure discomfort but to make it manageable, so the psyche remains open. Only then can we truly hear what the world is offering us, shift into a new state, and get what we genuinely need.
This manageable discomfort is often mistaken for patience. But in reality, the psyche doesn’t register it as patience at all. The person simply doesn’t notice this phase because, in their perception, “everything is fine.” They are already in a state of internal comfort, as their psyche no longer perceives the situation as a problem.
However, when discomfort becomes unbearable, a person turns into an “inflamed problem solver”—they must urgently find a new apartment, get a job, or fix their child’s bad grade. In this state, they lose the ability to see the bigger picture. Their focus narrows to a single task: “I must fix this right now.” It’s the same mechanism we see in a child throwing a tantrum over a cookie—their psyche is locked onto one need, and no amount of reasoning will help. For an adult, it might look like panicked job applications after being laid off—not in pursuit of the right job, but simply any job. In this mindset, they fail to see the possibilities life is offering them.
Understanding how affective blocks work is key not only to interacting with children but also to managing ourselves. If we constantly fight against ourselves, no amount of forced calm will help. The goal is not just to endure discomfort but to make it manageable, so the psyche remains open. Only then can we truly hear what the world is offering us, shift into a new state, and get what we genuinely need.
How can we work with this?
First, we need to quiet the reptilian brain, which, under stress, screams, “This is the end! Run!” and floods the body with adrenaline. Many people unknowingly chase adrenaline—through constant stress, extreme emotional swings (hot-cold, tension-relaxation)—which ultimately overwhelms their nervous system.
Second, we must train ourselves to pause, using breathing techniques and awareness of our affective blocks. Simply saying “Wait” to ourselves in a stressful moment can help regain control and prevent us from spiraling into panic.
Our real task is to restore the ability to self-soothe and maintain inner stability. Only then can discomfort stop controlling us, allowing us to stay in touch with reality, recognize opportunities, and make conscious choices.
Second, we must train ourselves to pause, using breathing techniques and awareness of our affective blocks. Simply saying “Wait” to ourselves in a stressful moment can help regain control and prevent us from spiraling into panic.
Our real task is to restore the ability to self-soothe and maintain inner stability. Only then can discomfort stop controlling us, allowing us to stay in touch with reality, recognize opportunities, and make conscious choices.
"I can"
There is an interesting study involving two groups of men (100 participants in each) and one group of women (100 participants of various ages, temperaments, and social backgrounds).
The first group of men is placed in a room and given extremely difficult math problems—practically unsolvable. The second group is also told they will be solving highly challenging problems, but in reality, they receive fairly simple, high school-level tasks.
All the men believe that the purpose of the study is to assess their mathematical abilities. They work hard to solve the problems. Most of the first group struggles and fails, while the second group solves their tasks with ease. However, both groups were led to believe the problems were very difficult.
Then, the researchers ask them to take part in another part of the study. They are introduced to the group of women and asked to choose one with whom they would consider starting a relationship.
What do you think happens?
The men from the second group, who had solved their easy problems but believed they had accomplished something truly difficult, received praise and felt a strong sense of confidence. When they interacted with the women, they boldly pursued relationships with those they found the most attractive.
Meanwhile, the men from the first group, who had struggled with the actual difficult problems and failed, approached the situation differently. Their self-esteem had dropped, their level of ambition decreased, and their choices were much more reserved.
Despite identical conditions—the same experimental format, the same types of tasks—what changed dramatically was their perception of themselves. The way a person evaluates their abilities in the moment shapes their decisions, their expectations, and their standards in career, salary, and personal relationships.
Of course, expectations will eventually meet reality. But if a person walks away from an experience with the feeling "I can", their entire outlook shifts. They engage with the world differently, set higher goals, and pursue greater opportunities.
What does the state of "I can" give us? No matter the circumstances, when a person feels that they can, every action gains meaning. The psyche holds onto the belief that the situation can improve.
But what is the opposite of "I can"? The state of "there is no meaning".
This is not just a lack of confidence—it’s the loss of an internal driving force. When discomfort becomes overwhelming, the psyche collapses into a state similar to early childhood, where everything feels chaotic and uncontrollable.
Everyone has experienced this at some point in life: "The world is against me»,"My partner is awful", "Buses are always late", "Of course, it had to snow today, just when I’m in a rush."
When a person falls into this mindset, everything feels pointless. There is no energy to move forward, no desire to act, no motivation to change anything.
This is why apathy is so powerful—without meaning, there is no movement.
The first group of men is placed in a room and given extremely difficult math problems—practically unsolvable. The second group is also told they will be solving highly challenging problems, but in reality, they receive fairly simple, high school-level tasks.
All the men believe that the purpose of the study is to assess their mathematical abilities. They work hard to solve the problems. Most of the first group struggles and fails, while the second group solves their tasks with ease. However, both groups were led to believe the problems were very difficult.
Then, the researchers ask them to take part in another part of the study. They are introduced to the group of women and asked to choose one with whom they would consider starting a relationship.
What do you think happens?
The men from the second group, who had solved their easy problems but believed they had accomplished something truly difficult, received praise and felt a strong sense of confidence. When they interacted with the women, they boldly pursued relationships with those they found the most attractive.
Meanwhile, the men from the first group, who had struggled with the actual difficult problems and failed, approached the situation differently. Their self-esteem had dropped, their level of ambition decreased, and their choices were much more reserved.
Despite identical conditions—the same experimental format, the same types of tasks—what changed dramatically was their perception of themselves. The way a person evaluates their abilities in the moment shapes their decisions, their expectations, and their standards in career, salary, and personal relationships.
Of course, expectations will eventually meet reality. But if a person walks away from an experience with the feeling "I can", their entire outlook shifts. They engage with the world differently, set higher goals, and pursue greater opportunities.
What does the state of "I can" give us? No matter the circumstances, when a person feels that they can, every action gains meaning. The psyche holds onto the belief that the situation can improve.
But what is the opposite of "I can"? The state of "there is no meaning".
This is not just a lack of confidence—it’s the loss of an internal driving force. When discomfort becomes overwhelming, the psyche collapses into a state similar to early childhood, where everything feels chaotic and uncontrollable.
Everyone has experienced this at some point in life: "The world is against me»,"My partner is awful", "Buses are always late", "Of course, it had to snow today, just when I’m in a rush."
When a person falls into this mindset, everything feels pointless. There is no energy to move forward, no desire to act, no motivation to change anything.
This is why apathy is so powerful—without meaning, there is no movement.
What restarts the psyche’s engine?
It’s not just the belief "I can", and it’s not a feeling of omnipotence. It’s the presence of meaning.
This internal force is what makes a person say "yes" to life—or, alternatively, ask "why bother?" That "why bother?" is a clear sign of an affective block shutting down.
Changing your mood is relatively easy—there are many psychological techniques for that. But try changing your sense of meaning. Meaning is the currency of the psyche. The mind either grants it, like a bank approving a loan, or blocks access: "Sorry, you are not creditworthy."
This internal force is what makes a person say "yes" to life—or, alternatively, ask "why bother?" That "why bother?" is a clear sign of an affective block shutting down.
Changing your mood is relatively easy—there are many psychological techniques for that. But try changing your sense of meaning. Meaning is the currency of the psyche. The mind either grants it, like a bank approving a loan, or blocks access: "Sorry, you are not creditworthy."
This article is inspired by the lecture of Ekaterina Sokalskaya on affective blocks and emotional resilience.