*THIS ARTICLE CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SEVERANCE SEASONS 1 & 2*
Apple TV’s Severance returned for a stunning second season, continuing to captivate audiences with its blend of psychological depth, corporate dystopia and emotional vulnerability. Created by Dan Erickson and Ben Stiller, the series follows Mark Scout (Adam Scott), an employee at the elusive company called Lumon, where a controversial “severance” procedure splits his consciousness in two. His “innie” exists only at work, while his “outie” remains blissfully ignorant of his job. The company claims this perfects work-life balance, but in reality, it’s an eerie manifestation of psychological dissociation.
Severance is more than just a psychological thriller. It’s a commentary on trauma, dissociation and the lengths we go to to escape pain. Watching this season with my mom, Sherri Issa, LCSW (CCTP-II), brought an added layer of psychological depth to the show’s themes. She is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker with a Complex Trauma Certification. I interviewed her about the real-world implications of Mark’s severance procedure, and she explained that while it appears to be a professional decision, it functions as a defense mechanism. Mark isn’t just an employee of Lumon; he’s a trauma survivor seeking escape. His “innie” exists to protect his “outie” from the unbearable grief of his wife’s death.
This mirrors the Internal Family Systems (IFS) model by Richard Schwartz, which suggests that people develop “parts” to cope with trauma. Some parts carry pain, while others, like Mark’s severed self, keep that pain at bay. However, as IFS and Severance both suggest, true healing is about reintegration. Mark’s growing resistance to his severance is a testament to a fundamental truth of trauma recovery: avoidance brings relief, but only wholeness brings peace.
Renowned trauma experts Peter Levine and Bessel van der Kolk have spent their careers studying how unresolved trauma traps the body and mind in cycles of pain. Both of them emphasize that trauma isn’t just stored in memories. It lives in the body, causing nervous system dysregulation that leads to symptoms like dissociation and emotional numbness. They argue that trauma fragments identity, leaving people feeling disconnected from themselves.
This is precisely what Severance explores. Lumon’s severance procedure is a literalized version of trauma dissociation, a surgical, corporate-approved way to sever painful memories rather than process them. Mark’s journey echoes the IFS framework deeply. Schwartz’s model suggests that our psyche is made up of different “parts,” each playing a role in our emotional survival. Some, like Mark’s severed self, act as protectors, shielding us from overwhelming pain. But healing requires the reintegration of these parts, not their elimination.
“Dissociation isn’t the absence of pain…it’s just pain with the lights off. At some point, you have to flip the switch back on.”
That’s how my mom put it, and it resonates with me. Severance shows that trauma isn’t just personal. It can be industrialized. Gabor Maté, a leading expert in trauma, describes dissociation as the mind’s way of shielding itself from unbearable suffering. But as Maté warns, while dissociation serves a purpose, it ultimately robs us of our full selves. Lumon’s severance procedure is an extreme embodiment of this. It doesn’t just repress pain; it fractures identity.
In season two, the series’ exploration of corporate power grew even more chilling. Lumon isn’t just a workplace. It is an empire, controlling everything from law enforcement to local culture in the town of Kier. This mirrors how corporations embed themselves into communities, erasing the boundary between professional and personal life.
One of the most fascinating character arcs in Season 2 belongs to Mr. Milchick (Tramell Tillman), the middle manager enforcing Lumon’s control. Initially presented to audiences as a Lumon loyalist, Milchick’s own subjugation becomes clearer as we see how the company polices him differently than it does its white executives.
His corporate-speak, intended to establish authority, is met with resistance when he oversteps perceived boundaries, highlighting how black professionals are often scrutinized when they adhere to dominant leadership styles. In the final episodes of the season, we can see the gears turning in Milchick’s head as he grapples with his growing frustration with his job despite his ambitions to climb the corporate ladder. In Season Three, he may be forced to confront the moral implications of his role at Lumon.
But if Severance has a true hero, it’s Helly R. (Britt Lower). Last season’s bombshell reveal that her “outie” is Helena Eagan, the CEO’s daughter, laid the groundwork for a gripping arc in season two. Despite her privilege, Helly’s “innie” fights desperately against the system her own family created. This is a searing commentary on systemic oppression: even those born into power can be trapped by the ideologies that sustain it.
The Season 2 finale delivered a powerful climax to the psychological exploration of identity and self. In a pivotal scene, Mark’s sister Devon and his old boss, Ms. Cobel, devise a way for Innie Mark and Outie Mark to communicate. However, Outie Mark dismisses his Innie counterpart as merely a means to an end, failing to recognize him as a full person. This interaction triggers an internal struggle for Innie Mark, forcing him to confront the reality that his Outie self doesn’t view him as a complete individual.
This conflict culminates in a heart-wrenching decision for Innie Mark. He must choose between sacrificing himself to give his outie everything he desires (his wife and freedom) or fighting for his own survival and a potential future with Helly R. This dilemma powerfully illustrates the psychological principle that we need both halves of ourselves, our conscious and unconscious, or our work and personal selves, to truly live and find contentment.
“Healing from trauma isn’t about getting rid of the parts of you that suffered. It’s about inviting them to sit at the table.”
That’s what resonated with my mom after watching Severance, and it perfectly captures what makes this show so powerful. It doesn’t just critique corporate greed or explore trauma in the abstract. It forces us to ask ourselves what parts of ourselves we have severed to survive.
Eckhart Tolle, author of The Power of Now, teaches that real liberation comes not from escape, but from presence, the willingness to sit with discomfort rather than sever our minds.
Lumon’s severance procedure is the ultimate ego-trap, offering relief by dividing the self. But Mark’s fight to reclaim their memories reveals a deeper truth: Healing isn’t about cutting away what hurts. It’s about becoming whole enough to manage it. Severance isn’t just prestige television. It’s a psychological metaphor. And as its characters fight to reclaim their stolen selves, it leaves us with an urgent reminder: The only way out is through.