Ego and God have the same name, so confusion is understandable. The bits that God sends to clear up that confusion aren't fun: the dark night of the senses purifies our cravings for "snacks, stuff, sensuality, security." And we get to the point where we can want them without imposing a timeline or expectations on fulfillment. The dark night of the soul purifies our desire for things of god: consolations in prayer, ecclesial status, agendas around what's sacred--in the end they can be just the same flavor of "running the show" rebranded for the "sunday go to meeting crowd." And there's one last dark night: the dark night of the self. When elijah was in the cave, he kept saying "I have been very zealous for the things of God and they are seeking my life." God's response is "shush and listen."
The "perilogismoi" or evil thoughts are insufficient to describe the pitfalls of the Christian life. They describe initial purgation perfectly--and anyone who claims to be done with them puts himself in a dangerous situation indeed. Incomplete struggle with the evil thoughts perfectly describes "why ego is an issue in the first place."
But there are also "pitfalls" of the Higher Self--and looking squarely at them is necessary for efficient use of the spirit's energy. They are: blame, Shame, resentment, remorse, rationalization, self pity. self-aggrandizement, entitlement. We see these everywhere: Jesus tells parables about folks hanging out at the Lord's vineyard "because no one has hired them"--that's resentment. The apostles say "we have left everything to follow you, what will we have." That's a most-likely unmet expectation, ripe for creating resentment, indicative of entitlement. The consolations we might have had, as newbies in spiritual life--they may now function as remorse-fuel. "I made a bunch of choices based on a prayer life that now looks much different, and those choices have only netted struggle." Or "I had a sense of myself being a better bloke than I am. Now that this path comes with no rewards, I have a real tendency to become a basket case."
What's to be done? When you've finally "had it up to here" with your own bullshit: seek to become the kind of human who can bear with stress without asking that those stressors be eliminated. Trying to accumulate enough comfort to offset chronic stress is a fruitless task anyway. If God eliminates a stress, fine. But if he doesn't and we become little monsters, what does that say about our attachments?
If you've seen your attachments and you can rouse appropriate regret for them, then there's only one apostolic solution. Only this: the name of Jesus--which is "a power mantra for letting go." If you decide to let go, then regret it, chanting the name of the Lord is the solution. It's "give to God the things that are within, and behold, all will be made clean for you" even if what's within makes you and me look like garbage piles with legs. If "thinking about what could or should have been" is causing remorse, look intently at whatever's in front of you, then pronounce the name of Jesus. Unmet needs may remain mental conundrums, but injecting "the sound of the name" will give you the feeling of vibrating sound to focus on while the contradictions gradually reduce ego and mature into paradoxes.
And that, perhaps, is full of divine intention. "Self" is just a thought. Needs and desires are more real than self, but there's a real upper limit to how effective manipulation is in meeting them. And in the end, if those tensions remain, it might be so that we'll see the uselessness of willful manipulation, so that we can see "give up self, do not judge" as the key to serenity. So it's "the word is near you, on your lips and in your heart. You have only to carry it out." Ultimately, it's not just the bad stuff we have to let go of. Our teacher said "into your hands I commend my spirit,"--and that kind of surrender is our lot as well. For us who are called to everything, calm in the face of nothingness is surprisingly descriptive of the fruit of the spirit.
As to what will get the job done, we'll only know when we become what we seek. The truth is silent: To the pure of heart, all things are pure. The eyes that see are not the same as the ones that were told "keep looking, but do not understand." The ears that hear are not the same ones that were told "keep listening, but do not comprehend." When you know why I am lying, you will see it. When you know how what I'm saying is lacking, you will hear.