“Just a suggestion. Obviously, you want a name that resonates for you.”

“How much do you charge an hour again?”

“Well, I am a doctor. Have initials after my name and everything.”

“Melvin. Good God, my pain is called Melvin.”

“The Internal Family Systems model subdivides the mind into four main parts. At the core is your Self, the natural leader of the system. Then there is the section called the Exiles, which include pain and trauma you’re not ready to process yet so you have cast aside. Unfortunately, the Exiles need to share their stories. They will continue to act out, in the form of rage, terror, grief and shame, until they are heard.

“When the Exiles act up, the next group, the Firefighters, kick into gear. Classic firefighting techniques include drug or alcohol abuse, binge eating, other short-term cover-ups for long-term pain. Finally there are the Managers. This section also tries to keep the Exiles at bay through hypercontrolling every situation. Striving, judging, self-criticizing, all come from the Managers. Basically your exiled pain/trauma causes emotional distress, which in turn goads the Firefighters into various self-destructive acts and the Managers into various repressive acts. And around and around you go, whirling through the dysfunctional cycles of life, caused by the core Self not being the one in charge.”

“I fell down the stairs,” D.D. said.

“Yes.”

“I don’t get what that has to do with Exiles and Firefighters and Managers. Oh, and my true Self.”

“The fall is trauma. It caused pain but also created fear, powerlessness and impotence.”

The detective hunched her shoulders slightly, wincing.

“Those emotions are your Exiles,” I supplied gently. “They’re screaming to be heard. The Firefighters in the system might respond with a compulsion to drink or abuse of prescription medication—”

“I’m not taking anything!”

“Or the Managers might rise to the forefront,” I continued, “micromanaging the entire system by controlling and judging your response to the pain. Demanding, in fact, that you be tough enough.”

D.D.’s eyes widened slightly. She stared at me a full minute. Then her gaze narrowed.

“The Exiles must be heard,” she murmured. “That’s why you want me to talk to my pain.”

“Melvin. Generally speaking, it’s easier to carry on a conversation when the other party has a name.”

“And Melvin will say what? Hey, I’m hurt. I’m powerless. I hate stairs. And I’ll say, okay, and then my pain will go away?”

“And then your pain might feel more manageable. The rest of the system can ease while your core Self rises to the front. For the record, there have been numerous studies on physical pain. One of the most interesting findings: Everyone has pain, but only some people are bothered by it. Meaning, colloquially speaking, attitude is everything.”

“I think,” the detective said slowly, “that’s the biggest bunch of BS I’ve ever heard.”