Part 32

The following case is instructive not only because of the lasting dissociation of this instinct as a result of a conflict, but because the dissociation was volitionally and intentionally effected as a revenge. Other interesting features are the transference of the repressing revenge affect to an object (clothes which became an amulet or fetish to protect from sexual approaches, and the building of a complex (“raw oyster”) which became the bearer of the repressing force. X. Y. Z. received a deep wound to her pride on the first night of her honeymoon when her husband forgot his bride of a few hours who was awaiting him in the nuptial chamber. Happening to meet in the hotel some political acquaintances after the bride had retired, he became absorbed in a political discussion and—forgot! When he appeared after a prolonged absence and presented his excuses she was hurt in her pride and offended to think that she was of so little importance to him that he could become interested in talking politics.[234] There was anger too, and she vowed to herself to show, or, to use her own words, she “would be hanged if” she would show that she had any liking for or any interest in the marital intimacy. (She had never hitherto experienced any sexual feelings and, like most young girls, was entirely ignorant of the physical side. Nevertheless, from what she had been told, she had idealized the spiritual union of husband and wife and anticipated pleasurable experiences.) So purposely she repressed any interest, made herself absolutely indifferent to her spouse’s amorous attentions and experienced absolutely no sexual feeling; and so it continued for some days. In view of what later happened, and what we know of conflicts, we must believe that the impulses which carried her volition to fruition came from the emotions of anger, pride, and revenge.

Then one afternoon, just after she had finished dressing herself preparatory to going out, her husband came into her room and made advances to her. The idea appealed to her and she became emotionally excited at the thought. But in the middle of the act when the libido began to be aroused, suddenly she remembered that she had been snubbed at the first and that her rôle was to show no liking or interest. There were reawakened the emotions of pride, anger, and revenge, although not malicious revenge. Impelled by these emotions she actually gave herself suggestions to effect her purpose—a determination to get square with the past. She said to herself, “I must not like it; I must put it away back in my mind, I must become flabby as an oyster.” Thereupon she became “perfectly limp and uninterested and the feelings of flabbiness came over” her, and the beginning sexual feeling subsided at once. (That day she had eaten some raw oysters and had been impressed by them as the essence of flabbiness.) She admitted having continued during succeeding years to cherish this revengeful feeling as to the sexual relation—to get square with the past. She defended it, however, (although admitting the childishness of the original episode) on the ground that the slight to her pride must be viewed in connection with a long series of antecedent experiences. These must therefore be viewed as the setting which gave meaning to her idea of sexual relations with her husband. After this at the sexual approach under conventional marital conditions she for a time always volitionally induced this flabby “raw-oyster” sensation and feeling. Later it would automatically arise at the first indication or suggestion of the approach and counteract the libido. It was now no longer necessary to be on guard, knowing she could not be taken unawares. The consequence has been that the patient has never consciously experienced any sexual feeling beyond those first beginnings at the time of the experience when she was fully dressed. The patient can produce the “raw-oyster” state at will and exhibited it voluntarily during the examination. The state as then observed was one of lethargy or extreme relaxation. There was no general anæsthesia; pinching and pricking was felt perfectly, but, as she remarked, they carried no sensation of discomfort. “I do not care at the moment,” she explained, “what any one does to me; no sensation would cause pleasure or discomfort.” To arouse the state she thinks of the sexual approach first, and then the state comes. The sexual instinct has never been aroused by reading, or associative ideas of any kind. “It does not exist,” to quote her words.

Clothes became an amulet of protection in the following way: Ever since that afternoon when she was taken unawares in her clothes (and “almost liked it”) she realized and feared that sexual approaches when she was fully clothed might arouse the sexual instinct. Consequently she was more on her guard when fully clothed than at night for fear of being taken unawares. The idea that she must be on her guard when clothed became fixed, and, at first, when in this condition, she was always on her guard ready to defend herself by _pugnacity_. Then any approach at such times, if accompanied by physical contact, awakened an instinctive reaction which became a defense; it aroused the instincts of fear and anger. Any affectionate demonstration suggestive of the approach on the part of her husband would arouse these defensive instincts. On the other hand, when half dressed there has been no such ebullition of emotion; she has in consequence always believed that having clothes on would protect her against admirers. Indeed, as a fact, this is so, for any show of affection from any one manifested by a touch, even the friendly pat of the hand, will cause an unnecessary and unreasonable outburst of uncontrollable anger, such as to astonish and startle the offender. Clothes, becoming thus a sentiment in which the instincts of flight and pugnacity are incorporated, have also become a protection in themselves—an amulet to ward off danger.

What reason, it may be asked, is there for believing that the sexual instinct really exists in this case, and is only repressed or dissociated? I may not state all the reasons; it is sufficient to say that the evidence is to be found in dreams. The large number of sexual dreams which the subject has experienced, many of them accompanied by realistic sexual manifestations and not symbolic only, leave no doubt of this fact.[235]

_Conflicts with subconscious sentiments._ Thus far we have been considering conflicts between sentiments and emotional processes which have been in the full light of consciousness. But in previous lectures we have seen that ideas with strong emotional tones may be dissociated and function below the threshold of consciousness as coconscious processes. It is theoretically possible, therefore, that conflicts might arise between a dissociated coconscious sentiment and one that is antagonistic to it in consciousness. To appreciate this theoretical condition let me point out that there is one important _difference between the ultimate consequences of the repression of an instinct and of a sentiment_. If an instinct is repressed (it being only an innate disposition) it ceases to be an active factor in the functioning organism. It is inhibited. A stimulus that ordinarily suffices to excite it fails to do so, and it may respond only to an extraordinarily powerful stimulus, or perhaps none will awaken it. Thus abstinence from food fails to awaken a sense of hunger in a person who has lost this instinct for any reason, even though appetizing food be placed before him.[236] Similarly anger, or fear, or tender emotion, or self-assertion, or disgust, in certain persons cannot be awakened excepting by very unusual stimuli. In other words, the psycho-physiological reflex is completely or relatively in abeyance just as much so as is an organic reflex (e. g., the knee-jerk) which has been inhibited. Normally, of course, it is rare for an instinct to be absolutely inhibited excepting temporarily, as has been explained, during a conflict with another instinct. In certain pathological conditions (e. g., dissociated personality), almost any instinct may be persistently inhibited. In normal conditions there is, however, one exception, namely the sexual instinct, which, as we have seen from instances cited, may be inhibited during long periods of time. In women this inhibition is common and is effected, as I believe, by the subtle and insensible influence of the environment of the child and by social education, in other words, by the social taboo. Wherever inhibition occurs observation would seem to show that the psycho-physiological function has ceased to take part in the functioning organism.

With sentiments, however, the case stands differently. A sentiment, being an idea about which a system of emotional dispositions has been organized, when repressed by conflict, or when simply out of mind, whether capable of reproduction as memory or not, may, like all ideas, still be conserved, as we have seen, as an unconscious neurogram. As we have also seen, so long as it is conserved it is still a part of the personality. Even though repressed it is not necessarily absolutely inhibited but may be simply dissociated and then be _able to take on dissociated subconscious activity_. As a subconscious process the idea continues still organized with its emotional dispositions, and the conative forces of these, under certain conditions, may continue striving to give expression to the idea. We have already become familiar with one phenomenon of this striving, namely, the emerging into consciousness of the emotional element of the sentiment while the idea remains subconscious, thus producing an unaccountable fear or joy, feelings of pleasure or pain, etc. (p. 381).

1. This being so, it having been determined that _under certain conditions_ any conserved experience may become activated as a dissociated subconscious process, it is _theoretically_ quite possible that the impulses of an activated subconscious sentiment might come into conflict with the impulses of a conscious process—the two being antagonistic. The resulting phenomena might be the same as when both factors to the contest are in consciousness. In such a conflict if the impulsive force of the subconscious sentiment is the stronger the conscious ideas, sentiments, and feelings—in short, the conscious process—would be repressed, and _vice versa_. Or if the subconscious sentiment got the worst of the conflict and could not repress the conscious process, the former, being dissociated and an independent “automatic” process, might theoretically induce various other phenomena in the effort to fulfil its aim. If it could not directly overcome the impulses of the conscious process it might circumvent the latter by inducing mental and physiological disturbances which would indirectly prevent the conscious impulses from fulfilling their aim; e. g., inhibition of the will, dissociation or total inhibition of consciousness, amnesia for particular memories, motor phenomena interfering with normal activity, etc. The subconscious sentiment engaging in such a conflict could be excited to activity by any associative antagonistic idea in consciousness. It should be noted that the subject being entirely unaware of the subconscious process would not know the cause of the resulting phenomena.

2. Now, in fact, _such hypothetical conflicts and phenomena are actually observed_ in very neat and precise form _under experimental conditions_, particularly in pathological or quasi-pathological subjects. These conditions are particularly instructive as they allow us to clearly recognize the subconscious character of the conflicting process and detect the exact sentiment concerned therein.

The following experiment illustrative of such a conflict between a conscious and subconscious process I have repeated many times in one subject with the same resulting phenomenon. It has been demonstrated on several occasions to psychologists and others. On the first occasion when the phenomenon was observed it was entirely spontaneous and unexpected as also has since been frequently the case.

B. C. A. in one phase of alternating personality (B) was asked to mention a certain complex of ideas which was known to have been organized about a distressing “sentiment” in another phase (C) causing considerable unhappiness. This sentiment included a strong emotion of pride in consequence of which she had in the C phase intense objections to revealing these ideas. As she herself said, she “would have gone to the stake first.” Phase B has no such sentiment, but on the contrary the ideas in question were only amusing to her.[237] In phase B, therefore, she not only had no objection to revealing the sentiment distressing to C but desired for therapeutic reasons to do so. In accordance with this difference of sentiments the difference in the attitude of mind in the two phases toward the same experience was quite striking. The impulse in the one was to conceal the experiences and sentiment, in the other to divulge them.

Now, in reply to an interrogatory as to what was distressing in the C phase, B begins to mention the sentiment. At once, and to her astonishment, her lips and tongue are tied by painful spasms involving, also, the throat muscles. She becomes dumb, unable to overcome the resistance. She struggles in vain to speak. When she gives up the struggle to pronounce the forbidden words she speaks with ease on other subjects saying “something prevented me from speaking.” Each time that she endeavors to turn State’s evidence and to peach on herself, the same struggle is repeated. When she persists in her effort, using all her will-power, the effect of the conflicting force extends to consciousness. Her thoughts become first confused, then obliterated, and she falls back in her seat limp, paralyzed, and apparently unconscious. The thoughts to which she strove to give expression have disappeared. She now cannot even will to speak.

But she is not really unconscious, it is only another phase; there is only a dissociation or inhibition of the consciousness comprising the system of ideas making up the B phase and an awakening of another restricted system. When automatic writing is tried, it is found that a limited field of consciousness is present in which are to be found the ideas which opposed the resistance. A precise statement of the opposing factors (volition) which offered the resistance and brought about the conflict, the spasm of the vocal apparatus, and finally inhibition or dissociation of consciousness, is obtained from this dissociated restricted field.[238]

This phenomenon carries its own interpretation on its face and cannot be doubted. Certain sentiments, for the moment dormant and outside the focus of awareness of the subject, are “struck” or stimulated by memories within that focus. The conative force of the conscious wishes to which the subject seeks to give expression meets with the resistance of a similar and more powerful force from the previously dormant sentiment. The latter carries itself to fulfilment and _controls the vocal apparatus at first, and then, finding itself likely to be overcome by the will-power of the personality, annihilates the latter by the inhibition and dissociation of consciousness_.

Various forms of the same phenomenon of conflict with subconscious processes I have experimentally demonstrated in Miss B. and O. N. Spontaneous manifestations of the same have also been frequently observed in all three subjects. In the published account of Miss B.[239] numerous examples are given. I will merely refer to the attacks of aboulia, the dissociations of consciousness and inhibition of thought, and of speech resulting in stuttering and dumbness, the inhibition of motor activity, the induction of systematized anesthesia and alexia, etc. In the prolonged study of the case I was the witness, I was going to say, of innumerable exhibitions of such manifestations, and the book is replete with examples of conflicts between opposing mental processes. B. C. A. in her account, “My Life as a Dissociated Personality,”[240] has described similar spontaneous phenomena. It is worth noting in this connection that the commonplace phenomena of systematized anesthesia (negative hallucinations) may be induced by conflict with a subconscious process motivated by strong emotion. Thus Miss B. in one of her phases could not see the writing on a sheet of paper which appeared blank to her; on another occasion she could not see the printing of the pages of a French novel which she therefore took to be a blank book, nor could she see a bookcase containing French books.[241] The subconscious conflicting ideas were motivated by anger in the one case and jealousy in the other. That the conflicting ideas in this case were elements synthesized in a large dissociated system or subconscious self in no way affects the principle, which is that of conflict between processes. The conflicting process in such conditions is a more complex one, that is all. Undoubtedly the systematized anesthesia, so easily induced by hypnotic suggestion and which has been made the subject of much study, may be explained on the same principle, although the affective elements are not so obtrusive. The conflict is between the personal volition of the subject to see the marked playing-card, if that is the test object used in the experiment, and the suggested idea not to see it. The latter wins if the experiment is successful and inhibits the perception of the card—i. e., dissociates it from the focus of awareness. (The emotional tones involved are obscure; possibly they are curiosity on the one hand vs. self-subjection on the other.)

The _unconscious resistance to suggestion_ is probably of the same nature. Every one knows that it is difficult to hypnotize a person who resists the suggestion. This resistance may come from a counter auto-suggestion which may be entirely involuntary, perhaps a conviction on the part of the subject that she cannot be hypnotized, or an unwillingness to be—i.e., desire not to be hypnotized or fear. The same is true of waking a person from hypnosis. In other words, an antagonistic preparedness of the mind blocks involuntarily the suggestion. A very pretty illustration is the following: H. O. discovered that she could easily and rapidly hypnotize herself by simply passing her own fingers over her eyelids, but she could not wake herself out of hypnosis. She then discovered that, if she first gave herself the suggestion that she would wake when she desired, she could quickly do so. Likewise, if she suggested to herself that she could not hypnotize herself the customary procedure was without effect. Though this observation is a common phenomenon the rapidity and ease with which the phenomenon was demonstrated were as striking as it was amusing to watch her struggle to awake when the preparatory anticipatory autosuggestion had not been given.

In O. N. _more complicated phenomena_ induced by conflicts with subconscious complexes have been equally precise and striking. In this subject I find, as the result of repeated observations, that, in order that a suggestion, that is antagonistic to a preexisting attitude of mind possessing a strong feeling tone, shall not be resisted in hypnosis, it must be first formally accepted by the personality _before_ hypnosis is induced. If this viewpoint is not preformed, after hypnosis is induced the blocking attitude cannot be altered. Practically this means that the subject shall _bring into consciousness and disclose ideas_ with which the intended suggestion will conflict and shall modify them voluntarily. This she does by first candidly accepting a new point of view, and then, secondly, by a technical procedure of her own, namely, by preparing her mind not to resist in hypnosis. This procedure, briefly stated and simplified, is as follows: she first says to herself, “I will ‘take out’ that [resisting] idea.” Then she arranges in her thoughts the ideas of acceptance which she will substitute. Then she puts herself into a state of abstraction (hypnosis) and _suggests to herself_ that the resisting idea _is_ taken out and that my intended suggestion shall be her viewpoint. Even then, sometimes, when the resisting idea is one harking back to a long past period of life and belonging to a pathologically organized “mood,” known as the “b mood” or state, the acceptance of the suggestion may be ineffectual. Under these circumstances and _when the hypnotic dissociation is carried too far_, so that the hypnotic state is reduced to the “b mood,” the previously auto-suggested acceptance of the idea by the patient is thereby ostracized from the hypnotic field and is unable to play its part and have effect. So much by way of explanation. Now when the precaution has not been taken to see that any resisting idea has been “taken out” and when the intended suggestion has not been accepted, one of the following phenomena is observed: (1) the hypnotic personality when the suggestion is given becomes “automatically” and unconsciously restless, endeavors, _without knowing why_, to avoid listening, and to push me away, shifting her attitude and struggling to withdraw herself from contact or proximity—all the time the face expressing hostility and disapproval in its features; or (2) complete obnubilation of consciousness supervenes so that the suggestions are not heard; or (3) the subject suddenly wakes up. The last frequently happens as often as the suggestion is repeated; and yet in hypnosis (and also, of course, when awake), the subject is unaware of what causes the resistance and the resulting phenomena. But if now the subject is warned of what has occurred and accepts the suggestion by the procedure mentioned (unless the “b mood” I have mentioned recurs), the resistance and other phenomena at once cease and the suggestion takes effect. Thus in this case the conflicting ideas can always be precisely determined and the conditions of the experiment arranged at will and the results controlled. It is obvious that all three phenomena are different modes by which the subconscious idea resists the suggested idea and accomplishes its aim.