Why Doesn't the IFS Model Include Cthulhu?

I’m shamelessly ripping off Inkhaven and doing my own challenge, Egghaven. This is the third post.

This post comes with mild spoilers for Naruto, Naruto Shippuden, House of Leaves and maybe the Odyssey (but not the film version)

I really like Naruto – so much so that I have a tattoo of one of the panels from the manga. I love many of the characters in the series, and often find myself recalling various scenes. One is the first time in which our protagonist Naruto is somehow transported to a kind of astral plane within himself and there confronts Kurama, the nine-tailed demon fox that has been magically sealed inside of him.

Similarly, my mind often returns to Mark Z Danielewski’s House of Leaves. Despite not initially enjoying the book (and giving it a damning two-star review on Goodreads), Will Navidson and the minotaur have remained lodged in my psyche. I find his compulsion relatable. It’s obvious to the reader that he “should” take his family and leave the titular house, forgetting all about the shifting labyrinth behind the mysterious door in his hallway. God knows, his wife wants to do that. But he can’t, even if it defies sense, he has to descend into the darkness, to confront the monster. Maybe it’s totally pathological, or maybe it’s some kind of innate quality that compels him towards fulfilling his hero’s journey.

I like the idea of internal family systems, but I’ve never found the traditional categorisation of my “parts” all that compelling. The obvious gripe is that the “Self” is naively overoptimistic. There is some internal part of me that is inherently good and pure and virtuous? This seems like an extremely convenient way to tell prospective users of your psychotherapeutic framework that they are fundamentally good people, and that said framework will help the goodness in them shine through. Fortunately, I think even most IFS junkies don’t take this idealised true Self especially seriously.

I can get on board with “Managers” as parts. I don’t get on great with mine, but I have had one canonically terrible experience with a dark triad manager at a previous job, and it’s easy to imagine a little version of him inside my head. “Firefighters” is trickier; the only firefighter I know is my ex’s father, and he clearly does not fit the kind of firefighter I have in my internal family (despite, ironically, very clearly having overactive psychic firefighters of his own). I think of mine as being a lot more like Calypso, ready to freshly re-enchant me with her singing.

The concept I really take umbrage at is “Exiles” – I certainly have plenty of these parts, but I don’t think “exiles” does them justice. When I think of exiles, I think of Victor Hugo, Paul Atreides, and Jesus. My exiles feel closer to some kind of Lovecraftian horror. They are more like Kurama and Navidson’s minotaur than Timothée Chalamet.

I think this is underappreciated by people who encourage or facilitate others to do inner work. I can often find making contact with these parts totally overwhelming; I feel full of dread; my body feels drained of energy; I am unable to move or speak. This is why I do such aggressive compartmentalisation in my day-to-day life – without it, I wouldn’t be functional.

I don’t think I’m unique here at all – I believe my experiences are common. When we compel people to “confront their demons”, are we making sure that they are sufficiently prepared to face Cthulhu?