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If you've come straight here from the homepage that's OK, but if the trick doesn't 'click' with you immediately I think it would be worth your while going back to the intervening pages for some context. In particular, one important point that I've been stressing is that you have to get rid of the depression before you can work on the things in your life that depress you. The BROH trick isn't just another strategy, like learning to meditate or trying to cultivate positive thinking. It's not just another weapon to add to all the others in your fight against depression. It's an insight which dissolves the need for a fight altogether.
OK, now here it is.
We're all becoming increasingly aware that depression is a matter of chemicals in the brain. That in itself is very liberating in some ways, because it means that the depression is not your fault, but by itself it has a downside. It suggests that you're stuck with it, that the chemical imbalance is a part of your nature, like a genetic predisposition to, say, arthritis.
But there's also something else. Those 'orrible thoughts I've talked about are also a brain thing. They are just like the irritating tunes you get 'on the brain' from time to time, except for the significance they have for your self-esteem. The tune that stays in your head long after you heard it on the radio this morning is just a pattern in your brain, which you can easily ignore. The 'orrible thoughts, by contrast, seem to demand attention, because what they are saying matters. They seem to condemn the very fact of your existence.
* The more attention you pay to them, the more they are reinforced as patterns and the more poisonous they get.
* What you've got is a vicious circle between your self-image and the thoughts.
* Break that connection and the depression will gradually vanish.
BROH stands for Brain Running Old Habits, and the irritating tunes and bad thoughts alike are part of your BROH. The trick is to remind yourself, when you next get a weepie, that 'it's not me, it's just my BROH'. Once you realise that it's not you thinking those thoughts, that it's just the brain up to its old tricks, you can ignore them and the vicious circle is broken. Ignore them and they really will go away!
It's hard to ignore something that's insistent, especially where your whole sense of self seems to depend on it. But in this case, you've taken the sting out of the BROH simply by recognising what it is. The BROH is just a set of patterns. They're not true, and they're not untrue. Just like the tunes, they come and go, they change over time, and they have nothing whatsoever to do with your self-image.
So for instance: you've just got in and you're feeling a bit out of sorts. But you look at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and you think: oh dear, I'd really better do something about that. So you reach down through the mess to the plug in the sink to empty the cold slimy water out and try and find somewhere to stack the stuff so you can fill the sink with hot, clean water. You turn on the tap, so far, so good. You start to put a few things in the sink and the gushing water finds a spoon and showers you and, among other things, the sugar bowl. You reach to turn off the tap and bang your hand against the spout. You've never banged your hand against that spout in all the years you've been living with it. By this time there's probably some swearing going on, if only in your head, but you take a grip and wipe the floor vaguely (it'll dry by itself soon enough) and chuck the towel in the pile by the washing machine. On the way back to the sink you knock your favourite mug off the table and break it. It wasn't quite empty so there's cold tea among the shards on the floor.
Everyone has had an experience like this. Everyone has days when nothing goes right. I'll bet that even Jesus and the Buddha had their contemporary equivalent; it doesn't fit the image, but, like I said, it happens to everyone (actually Jesus did lose his temper with a fig-tree I seem to remember). So, what would your seasoned saint do now? If he's got any sense he'll go off and do something else - maybe watch the snooker for a bit, or go for a walk - and come back to the washing up later.
But for thee and me, by now the BROH is screaming. You can't even manage to do a simple thing like washing up! You drag yourself to the bedroom, climb under the duvet and howl into the pillow. What's happening in your head now is all the old stuff about how useless you are - you have the proof lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of cold tea - you can't take you anywhere, everything you touch turns into a pig's ear, look at your life, it's a mess from top to bottom, etc, etc. All of this is just the Brain Running Old Habits.
This is where the BROH trick comes in. The BROH thoughts have nothing to do with the broken mug, and they have nothing to do with who and what you are. You can see that, because they come back again and again in all sorts of circumstances. They are simply your brain's habitual response, built up over the years, to the (perfectly reasonable) anger and frustration you feel when that kind of thing happens. Being a habitual response, you can't do very much to change it but what you can do is short-circuit it. By all means stay under the duvet, study the familiar imperfections on the ceiling, and watch the thoughts, complete with renewed floods of tears (all part of the BROH). As soon as you realise you can watch them, you can understand that they're not you. They're just long-established patterns. See them as patterns, and hey presto, you've detached your self-image from them. Having detached, you are completely free to ignore them - they literally mean nothing.
And that's it. There's been no need for complicated philosophical gymnastics; no leap of blind faith; no trying to convince yourself of something that in your heart of hearts you don't believe; and no nasty truths you've had to accept.
The patterns don't disappear overnight, but you've managed to take the poison out of them.
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