The "God Complex" or a Soul in Crisis?
Rethinking "Disordered" Religious Beliefs
It’s been a while since I’ve posted here, but a recent clinical supervision session sparked a conversation that I felt was too important to keep behind closed doors. We were discussing a hypothetical (yet common) scenario: How do we respond to a client in a manic state who claims they are God?
In many clinical settings, the standard operating procedure is to label this as a "grandiose delusion," notify the psychiatrist to adjust the lithium or antipsychotics, and wait for the "symptoms" to subside. But as a disability studies scholar and a therapist, I find myself asking: Are we silencing a profound attempt at communication?
Beyond the Prescription Pad
Don’t get me wrong—medication is a vital tool for stability and safety. However, if we treat a spiritual claim only as a chemical imbalance, we risk stripping the individual of their agency and their search for meaning.
When a client says, "I am God," they might be experiencing a neurological "firestorm," but they are also using the most powerful language available to them to describe an internal experience. I tend to view these "disordered" beliefs not just as errors in logic, but as the psyche’s attempt to communicate an unmet spiritual need.
A Middle Path: Clinical Engagement
So, if we shouldn't just ignore it or just medicate it away, what is appropriate? Here are a few ways we can handle these moments with clinical integrity and spiritual empathy:
Listen for the Subtext: Instead of arguing over the "fact" of their divinity, ask about the feeling. "What does it feel like to have that power?" or "What is God trying to tell the world through you right now?" This validates the experience without necessarily confirming the delusion.
The "Spiritual Need" Hypothesis: If someone believes they are a deity, are they actually expressing a profound need for connection, a desire to be seen, or a reaction to a life where they have felt powerless (a common theme in disability history)?
Avoid "Spiritual Gaslighting": If we immediately dismiss a client's spiritual language as "just the mania talking," we may close the door on the therapeutic alliance. We can hold space for the spiritual intensity while still monitoring for clinical safety.This doesn't mean, that we ignore good clinical practice area I believe that this allows us to use traditional believes, but also focusing on the religious and spiritual experiences of all client's
The Challenge for Practitioners
As therapists, we bring our own beliefs to the room. I believe religion and spirituality are fundamental to the human experience—even, and perhaps especially, for those living with severe mental illness.
If we view "disordered" beliefs as a "cry from the soul" rather than just a "glitch in the brain," our clinical approach shifts from management to witnessing. We aren't just stabilizing a patient; we are honoring a human being trying to navigate the infinite.
