LECTURE XIISETTINGS OF IDEAS AS SUBCONSCIOUS PROCESSES IN OBSESSIONS

LECTURE XIISETTINGS OF IDEAS AS SUBCONSCIOUS PROCESSES IN OBSESSIONS

In our last lecture we were led to two conclusions: (1) that the conscious elements which are the meaning of an idea may be in the marginal zones; and (2) more important, that “meaning” may be only a part of a larger setting of antecedent experiences, which is an unconscious complex.

Let us now consider the further question raised in the theory finally proposed; namely, whether the submerged elements of a complex remain quiescent orwhether, in some cases at least, this portion functions subconsciouslyand takes part as an active factor in the whole process by which the meaning of an idea and its accompanying emotional tone invades the content of consciousness. If the latter be true, a hidden subconscious process would, according to the theory (to repeat what was previously said), really determine the conscious setting which gives the meaning. Such a mechanism was roughly likened to that of a clock. If such were the mechanism in insistent ideas, obsessions, and impulsions, it would, as I have intimated, explain their insistency, their persisting recurrence, the difficultyin modifying them, notwithstanding the subject realizes their falsity, the point of view often inexplicable to the subject, and the persistence of the affect. There is a constant striving of affective subconscious processes, when stimulated, to carry themselves to fulfilment. Consequently as we know from numerous observations, the feelings and emotions (pleasantness and unpleasantness, exaltation and depression; fear, anger, etc.) pertaining to subconscious processes tend to emerge into consciousness;[171]and likewise ideational constituents of the process often emerge into the fringe of the content of consciousness and even the focus of awareness. Given such a subconsciously functioning setting to an idea, it would necessarily tend by the impulsive force of its emotion to make the latter insistent, and resist the inhibiting control of the personal consciousness.

In the case of C. D., cited in the last lecture, we were led to the conclusion, as the result of analysis, that her insistent phobia might be due to the impulsive force of such subconscious complexes. The whole problem is a very difficult one, dealing as we are with complicated mechanisms and such elusive and fluid factors as conscious and subconscious processes. It is useless, therefore, to attempt to formulate the mechanisms with anything like scientific exactness.

It must be borne in mind, further, that the method of analysis (employed with C. D.), meaningthereby the bringing to light associated memories of past experiences, cannot positively demonstrate that those experiences take part as the causal factor in a present process. It can demonstrate the sequence of mental events, and, therefore, each successive link in a chain of evidence leading to the final act; or it can demonstrate the material out of which we can select with a greater or less degree of probability the factor which, in accordance with a theory—in this case that of subconscious processes—seems most likely to be the causal factor. Thus in the analysis of a bacterial culture we can select the one which seems on various considerations to be the most likely cause of an etiologically undetermined disease, but for actual demonstration we must employ synthetic methods; that is, actually reproduce the disease by inoculation with a bacterium. So with psychological processes synthetic methods are required for positive demonstration.

We haveavailable synthetic methods in hypnotic procedures. These give, it seems to me, positive results of value. If a subject is hypnotized and in this state a complex is formed, it will be found that this complex will determine, after the subject is awakened, the point of view and therefore the meaning of the central idea when it comes into consciousness, and this though the subject has complete amnesia for the hypnotic experience. In this manner, if the idea is one which previously had a very definite and undesirable meaning which we wish to eradicate, wecan organize a complex which shall include that idea and yet give it a very different meaning, provided it is one acceptable to the subject.

To take simple examples, and to begin with a hypothetical case, but one which in practice I have frequently duplicated: A subject is hypnotized and although, in fact, the day is a beautifully fair one we point out that it is really disagreeable because the sunshine is glowing and hot; that such weather means dusty roads, drought, the drying up of the water supply, the withering of the foliage, that the country needs rain, etc. We further assert that this will be the subject’s point of view. In this way we form a cluster of ideas as a setting to the weather which gives it, fair as it is, an entirely different and unpleasant meaning and one which is accepted. The subject is now awakened and has complete amnesia for the hypnotic experience. When attention is directed to the weather it is found that his point of view, for the time being at least, is changed from what it was before being hypnotized. The perception of the clear sky and the sunlight playing upon the ground includes secondary images of heat, of dust, of withered foliage, etc., such as have been previously experienced on disagreeable, hot, dusty days, and some of the associated thoughts with their affects suggested in hypnosis arise in consciousness; perhaps only a few, but, if he continues to think about the weather, perhaps many. Manifestly the new setting formed in hypnosis has been switched into association with the conscious perceptions ofthe environment and has induced the secondary images and associated thoughts, emotions, and feelings which give meaning. But it is equally manifest, though many elements bubble up, so to speak, from the unconscious setting into consciousness, that most of this setting remains submerged in the unconscious.

In similar fashion I made a subject regard, metaphorically speaking, as a cesspool for sewage a river which was being converted into a beautiful water park by a dam.[172]It is scarcely necessary to cite additional observations.

Manifestly such phenomena belong to the well-known class of so-called “suggested post-hypnotic phenomena.” These we have already seen (solution of problems predetermined actions, &c., Lecture VI) require the postulate of a subconscious process. It is therefore difficult to resist the conclusion that, when the suggested phenomenon is the “meaning” of an idea, this also involves a subconscious process—that a hypnotically organized setting functioning subconsciously ejects the meaning into consciousness. In other words, the unconscious setting is a part of the whole “psychosis” or complex, a factor in the functioning mechanism; it is dynamic and not merely static, and is a functioning part of the “psychic whole” of the given ideas (sign, perception, and meaning). To use the analogy of the clock, the unconscious part of thecomplex corresponds in a way to the works and determines what shall appear in consciousness. In the case of the ideas of everyday life, and particularly of pathological insistent ideas, unconscious complexes can be shown, by methods of analysis and by interpretation, to be existent and to be settings. We therefore infer that they similarly take part in the functioning process of ideation. But, as I have said, as any idea has many different settings and associated complexes, it is difficult to determine by this method with positiveness which setting or other complex, if any, isin activityand takes part in the process. Hence the different theories that have been offered to explain the precise psychogenesis of insistent ideas.

Therapeutic application.—By similar procedures in a very large number of instances, for therapeutic purposes, I have changed the setting, the viewpoint, and the meaning of ideas without any realization on the patient’s part of the reason for this change. This is the goal of psychotherapy, and in my judgment the one fundamental principle common to all technical methods of such treatment, different as these methods appear to be when superficially considered.

It is obvious that in everyday life when by arguments, persuasion, suggestion, punishment, exhortation, or prayer we change the viewpoint of a person, we do so by building up complexes which shall act as settings and give new meanings to his ideas. Imay add, if we wish to sway him to carry this new viewpoint to fulfilment through action we introduce into the complex an emotion which by the driving force of its impulses shall carry the ideas to practical fruition. This is the art of the orator in swaying audiences to his views. Shakespeare has given us a classic example in Marc Antony’s speech to the Roman populace.

The practical application to therapeutics of these principles of rearranging the setting of a perception by artificial complex building may be seen from the following actual case, which I have already cited in previous contributions.[173]

I suggest to B. C. A. in hypnosis ideas of well-being, of recovery from her infirmity; I picture a future roseate with hope, stimulate her ambitions with suggestions of duties to be performed, deeds to be accomplished. With all this there goes an emotional tone of exaltation which takes the place of the depression and of the sense of failure previously present. This emotional tone gives increased energy to her organization, revitalizing, as it were, her psycho-physiological processes [and by conflict represses the previously dissociating affect and sentiment]. The whole I weave artfully and designedly into a complex. Whatever neurotic symptoms were previously present I do not allow to enter this complex. Indeed, the complex is such that they are incompatiblewith it. The headache, nausea, and other bodily discomforts, pure functional disturbances in this instance, are dissociated and cease to torment. After “waking” there is complete amnesia for the complex. Yet it is still organized, for it can be recovered again in hypnosis. It is simply dormant. But the emotional tone still persists after waking, and invades the personal synthesis, which takes on a correspondingly ecstatic tone. The aspect of her environment, her conception of her relation to the world and her past, present, and future mental life have become colored, so to speak, by the new feeling, as if under a new light. But, more than this, new syntheses have been formed with new tones. If we probe deep enough we find that many ideas of the dormant complex have, through association with the environment (point de repère), become interwoven with those of the previous personal consciousness and given all a new meaning. A moment ago [her view was that] she was an invalid, incapacitated, exiled from her social and family life, etc. What was there to look forward to? Now: What of that? She is infinitely better; what a tremendous gain; at such a rate of progress in a short time a new life will be open to her, etc.—a radically new point of view. Now, too, she feels buoyant with health and energy, ready to start afresh on her crusade for health and life. Her neurotic symptoms have vanished. Such is the change that she gratefully speaks of it as the work of a wizard. But the mechanism of the transformation is simple enough. The exaltation, artificiallysuggested in hypnosis, persists, altering the trend of her ideas and giving new energy. The perceptions of her environment, cognition of herself, etc., have entered into new syntheses which the introduction of newideas, new points of view have developed; thus the content of her ideas has taken a definite, precise shape. Whence came these new ideas? They seem to her to have come miraculously, for she has forgotten the hypnotic complex. But forgetting an experience is not equivalent to its not having happened, or to that experience not having been a part of one’s own psychic life. The hypnotic consciousness remains a part of one’s self (as a neurographic complex), however absolutely we have lost awareness of it. Its experiences become fixed, though dormant, just as do the experiences of our personal conscious life. The mechanism is the same.

The following letter from this patient, received by chance after these paragraphs were written, well expresses the psychological conditions following hypnotic suggestion:

“Something has happened to me—I have a new point of view. I don’t know what has changed me so all at once, but it is as if scales had fallen from my eyes; I see things differently. That affair at L—— was nothing to be ashamed of, Dr. Prince. I showed none of the common sense which I really possess; I regret it bitterly; but I was not myself, and even as [it was] I did nothing to be ashamed of—quite the contrary, indeed.... Anyway, for some reason—I don’t know why, but perhaps you do—I have regained my own self-respect and find to my amazement that I need never have lost it. You know what I was a year ago—you know what I am now—not much to be proud of, perhaps;but I am the work of your hands, and a great improvement on [my poor old self]. I owe you what is worth far more than life itself ... namely, thedesireto live. You have given me life and you have given me something to fill it with ... I feel more like myself than for a long time. I am ‘my own man again,’ so to say, and if you keep me and help me a little longer I shall be well.”

In interpreting the phenomena it must be remembered that in such suggestive experiments the subject after waking has complete amnesia for the whole hypnotic experience, for all the ideas which were organized into the complex to form the setting. And yet this viewpoint, in spite of this amnesia, is that which was suggested, and he does not know why his view has changed. That a large fraction of the hypnotic complex (or setting) remains submerged in the unconscious can be readily shown. The only question is whether it becomes an active subconscious process out of which certain elements emerge as meaning into consciousness.

The setting in obsessions.—This question of the functioning of unconscious complexes as subconscious processes is of fundamental importance for psychology, whether normal or abnormal, and if well established gives an entirely new aspect to its problems. We cannot therefore be too exacting in demanding proof for the postulation of subconscious processes as part of the mechanisms we are considering, or, at least, requiring sufficient evidence to justify them as areasonable theory. If assumed asan hypothesis many otherwise obscure phenomena become intelligible by one or other theory making use of them.

Let us examine for a moment the obsessions as one of the most important problems with which abnormal psychology has to deal, and which offer themselves as exaggerated examples of ideas with insistent meanings. The phenomena are psychological and physical. They occur in a sporadic form, as well as in a recurring obsessional form. Let us consider them simply as phenomena irrespective of recurrence. They may be arranged by gradations in types in which they appear:

A, as purely physical disturbances;

B, as physical disturbances plus conscious emotion;

C, as physical disturbances plus conscious emotion plus a specific idea of the object of the emotion, butwithoutlogical meaning;

D, as physical disturbances plus emotion plus idea plus meaning.

In the first type the physical phenomena (such as commonly attend emotion) can be traced to a functioning subconscious emotional complex of which the phenomena are physical manifestations; in the second to a functioning subconscious complex ejecting its emotion into consciousness. In the third we find by analysis an associated unconscious complex (setting), which logically would account for the emotion of the obsessing idea, and infer, by analogy with A and B, that it is a dynamic factor in thepsychosis. In the fourth we find a similar complex, which logically would account for all the physical and conscious phenomena.

Type A: The following observation may be cited as an example. At the conclusion of some experiments, made on one subject in the presence of another patient and while conversing socially at afternoon tea, I noticed that the subject manifested marked tremor of the hands to such an extent that the cup in her hand shook and rattled in its saucer. She herself commented on the fact, and laughingly remarked that she did not know what was the matter with her; at times she would “get awfully hot all over and would break out in perspiration.” She could give no explanation of this phenomenon which had not been present before the experiments were begun. The subject was now put into deep hypnosis, in a state in which communication was obtained only by writing, and thereby the subconscious tapped. Without going into all the details, the sum and substance of the information obtained in this hypnotic state was this: coconscious images (pictures), of which she was not consciously aware, kept coming and going; these were the coconscious phenomena I have previously described (p. 169). When certain images appeared coconsciously the tremor developed, and when others appeared the tremor ceased; when still others appeared there were vasomotor disturbances and perspiration as well as tremor.

The images as I interpret them were the secondaryimages belonging to subconscious ideas or processes.[174]To understand the conditions in this instance it will be necessary to explain certain antecedent facts. I had arranged to make certain hypnotic and other experiments on two patients in the presence of each other. The one in question, the subject of this observation, hesitated to have them made on herself in the presence of a second person, fearing lest the various subconscious phenomena which she exhibited would be regarded as stigmata and she be thought “queer.” Each, of course, wished to see the experiments on the other. The subject in question had for a long time been rather obsessed with the insistent foolish idea that if people knew she manifested these phenomena they would not care to know her socially. It was a point of view which had been more or less obstinately maintained in spite of all contradictory arguments. The idea had specifically recurred from time to time in particular situations, and had caused considerable emotional disturbance. If not a true obsession it was close to one. Nevertheless she wanted to take part both for the object of seeing the experiments and also of meeting the second patient. Still there were anxious doubts and scruples in her mind arising from her desire, on the one hand, and a fear, on the other, that it was a social mistake to do so. This had been going on during several days and had been even the subject of correspondence, discussions, etc. It was only at the last momentthat she could screw up her courage to take part in the experiments.

Finally the experiments were made, with the result as above stated. Now the coconscious images which were accompanied by the tremors, etc., were pictures of herself, of the second patient, and of myself. These images coming and going seemed, as in a pantomime, to symbolize her previous thoughts. Sometimes the image of the second patient turned away from the subject, sometimes the three images were present, but the one of the subject stood apart from the others as if an outcast, and in both these latter cases particularly she would shake with tremor, and would “get awfully hot all over,” and break out in perspiration. Then apparently reassuring pictures would come and the tremor would cease.

Besides these coconscious images there was a train of coconscious thought of which she was not personally aware. There was the thought that perhaps, after all, it was a mistake to have taken part in the experiments, as X, the second patient, was not a physician, and her wish to see the subject hypnotized must have been largely curiosity. Of this train of thought the subject was not aware.At the same timeconcurrently there was in her personal consciousness the “thought that she liked X, that it was very good of her to have come, and awfully kind of you to take your time to conduct the experiments.” There was also a conscious emotion of pleasure and something akin to hope, and nervousnessat the situation. By contrast coconsciously there was a greater feeling of nervousness and theemotion of fearof which she was not consciously aware. By a few appropriate suggestions all these phenomena were made to disappear.

It would take us too long and be too much of a digression to go more deeply into these subconscious phenomena. From what has been given, which is corroborated by a large number of observations of the same sort, it seems to me we are justified in concluding that the physical manifestations of emotion (tremor, etc.) in the instance were determined by subconscious processes which were thefunctioning residua of antecedent thoughts with their emotions.

But more than this these antecedent thoughts were obsessing ideas of self-abasement, i.e., of herself as a person who socially was stamped with a stigma and, therefore, as a sort of outcast. These thoughts had formed one setting to the actual situation in which she found herself. The subconscious complex, therefore, contained a perception plus the meaning of the situation plus emotion; in other words, the whole of the psychosis including the affect was subconscious in that none of its elements emerged into consciousness. Another and rival perception of the situation was that which was actually in consciousness and which has been described. The physical phenomena were the manifestation of the subconscious affect and would have been equally manifested if the affect had become conscious. Insuch a case, then, we may say the whole of one setting actually functions subconsciously.

The case of H. O. is the same in principle as I interpret it, but is distinguished by the fact that the dissociation of processes was not so extreme. The obsessing idea was in the ultramarginal zone of consciousness and, to this extent, subconscious. Briefly stated, H. O. for many years was the victim of an intense obsession, in consequence of which she had practically foregone social life, and found herself unable to travel for fear she would be afflicted with her psychosis in trains, etc. The physical symptom was intense nausea suddenly arising as an attack. When attacked with this there developed also depression and a mental state which is perhaps best described as a mood. She could give no explanation of the attacks. On examination it developed that always in the “background of her mind,” just preceding the attack, there came the idea of disgust of self. At once the nausea as the physical expression of disgust was experienced. The disgust-idea was always excited by some associated stimulus. The meaning of this “sentiment” was set in a large complex of past experiences. Into all this I will not go. The point is that the only conscious elements of her obsession were in the extreme fringe of consciousness, sufficiently dissociated to be practically coconscious,[175]but thephysical symptomswere distressingly prominent.Relief was easily effected simplyby organizing a new complex giving a new point of view of self.

Complexes consisting entirely of the physiological manifestations of emotion without conscious emotion undoubtedly occur. A long time ago I described such a neurosis under the name of Fear Neurosis[176]in distinction from psychosis. The symptom complex was interpreted as a persisting automatism derived from antecedent fear states that had been outgrown. From our present standpoint and fuller knowledge we must believe that underlying this automatism is probably an unconscious complex of these antecedent experiences including the fear which takes part in the functioning mechanism. It may be called, then, a subconscious psychosis.

Truehysterical laughter and cryingare undoubtedly phenomena of this type and due to the same mechanism. These phenomena are well known to be purely automatic; that is to say, they are emotional manifestations unaccompanied in consciousness by thoughts or even by emotions corresponding to them. The subject laughs or cries without knowing why and without even feeling merry or sad. I forbear to digress sufficiently to present the evidence for the interpretation that the phenomena are due to subconscious processes of the kind just described. Let me merely say that in one instance, N. O., intensely studied, the automatic crying was traced by experimental and clinical methods to a persistingand often insistent subconscious childhood’s perception and meaning of self—as a lonely, unhappy child. This perception, etc., could be differentiated from the conscious perception belonging to adult age.

Numerous observations of emotional phenomena similar in principle have been recorded in the case of Miss B.[177]These observations included automatic facial expressions of pleasure, anger, and fear. These expressions could always be traced to subconscious processes and in this case to actual ideas of a coconscious personality. But the principle is the same.Sometimes the affect linked to the process welled up into consciousness and sometimes it did not.When, in the case of Miss B., the automatic phenomena were determined by coconscious ideas it was because the perceptions of the secondary subconscious personality had a humorous, angry, or fear setting, as the case might be. These particular observations are of especial interest because they allow us to clearly distinguishat almost one and the same moment the different manifestations corresponding to the different settings with which the same idea may be clustered. While, for instance, the personal consciousness of Miss B. perceived a person or situation with apprehension and manifested this apprehension in her facial expression as well as verbally, the subconscious perception of the same person or situation was one of joy which broke through Miss B.’s apprehensive feature in automaticsmiles. In other words, two different perceptions (with opposite meanings) of one and the same object functioned at the same time.

These observations, as interpreted, are of wider significance in that they allow us to understand the mechanism of many phenomena of everyday life. For instance, thehysteria of crowdsmay be explained on the same principle; likewise the outbreak of emotional physical manifestations in a person whose attention is absorbed (abstraction and distraction) in reading or hearing something (e. g., at a play), which, it may be inferred, touches some inner emotional experience of his life. In the kind of instance I have in mind introspection fails to reveal the presence of conscious thoughts or sometimes even emotions which adequately explain the physical disturbance. When not abstracted by the reading or play, the same ideas he was attending to a moment before fail to excite these disturbances.

As has been said, “everyone is a little hysterical,” meaning that under certain conditions—particularly those of stress and strain and strong emotion—the mind becomes a bit disintegrated, and unconscious complexes manifest themselves through what are called hysterical symptoms.

Type B: In this class the subject is afflicted with attacks ofconscious emotion, most conspicuously and commonly fear,plus the same physical disturbances as in type A, but without any specific idea in consciousness to which the emotion is related.When we examine certain favorable subjects like Miss B., B. C. A., H. O. and O. N., in whom memories of subconscious processes can be obtained by technical procedures, specific coconscious ideas can be demonstrated during the attacks of fear. These ideas are those of fear of some specific object. The emotion pertaining to these ideasaloneemerges into consciousness, the subject remaining unaware of the ideas themselves. In the case of Miss B. numerous observations of this kind were recorded.[178]When the obsessing fear constantly recurs it is a so-called “anxiety neurosis,”[179]as I interpret the phenomena.

A typically perfect example of anxiety neurosis was the recurring attacks of intense anxiety accompanied by a feeling of suffocation and oppression of the chest experienced by one of my subjects. Investigation disclosed that the first attack immediately followed a dream which was forgotten, but recovered in hypnosis. It appeared that in the dream she was accused by a certain person of certain delinquencies and threatened with exposure. At this point in the dream she was overcome with fear and anguish as in the after attacks. It also appeared that previously she had been and still was apprehensive of this person’s loyalty. By inference and analogy with the well-established after-phenomena of dreams (p. 101), we must assume that the dreamprocess still functioned subconsciously and produced the anxiety attacks.[180]

In this connection it is well to notice that it is a common observation that not only the affect of emotion but that offeelingalso may emerge from the subconscious into consciousness and color the attitude of the personal consciousness. This may be demonstrated by hypnotic procedures. When in hypnosis complexes of ideas with strong feeling tones, whether of pleasure or displeasure, of exaltation or depression, are suggested, the subject after awakening experiences these same feeling tones which dominate the personality. The subject then feels pleasantly exalted or unpleasantly depressed, as the case may be, without knowing the reason why. In alternating personalities the same phenomena may sometimes be observed. In the case of Miss B. the feeling tones which dominated the one personality invaded the consciousness of the other personality, often causing considerable distress after the alternation had occurred and although there was amnesia for all that had gone before.[181]Thus BIV complained of the feelings of depression from which BI shortly before had suffered, although her own ideas were far from being of a depressing nature. This depression welled upfrom the unconscious. It was in consequence of this phenomenon that BIV wrote: “BI’s constant grieving wears on my nerves. It is harder to endure than one would believe possible. I would rather give and take with Sally—a thousand times rather.” Likewise when a subject has feelings of unpleasantness and depression which he cannot explain it is easy in certain subjects to demonstrate the concurrence of coconscious ideas with these feeling tones. The affect in such cases emerges into consciousness, though the subject is unaware of the coconscious ideas. Correspondingly the feelings may be those of pleasantness and exaltation. The demonstration of coconscious processes as the sources of the conscious feelings of course can only be made in subjects in whom memories of coconscious processes can be evoked. In such subjects I have observed the phenomena on almost numberless occasions. But it can be provoked in almost any good hypnotic subject. To awake pleasurable and exalting feelings, to substitute them for their opposite when such are present, belongs to therapeutic art. The skillful therapeutist endeavors to provoke the former by the various procedures at his command. The important principle underlying such procedures is that the feeling tones pertaining to ideas may still invade the personal consciousness after the ideas have become dormant in the unconscious.

This principle, it seems to me, is of far-reaching application. The persistence of the feeling tone in a pleasant or unpleasant mental attitude after theexperience giving rise to it has become dormant isobserved in everyday lifeand can be explained on this principle. We have an exalting experience, engage in a spirited game of tennis, watch an exciting football match, or take part in an exhilarating dance. For the remainder of the day or the next day we still experience all the stimulating pleasurable feeling, even though in the cares of our vocation the memories of the previous experiences have remained dormant, not having once been called to mind. The only difference between such experiences of everyday life and those of hypnosis is that in one case we can, if we will, recall the origin of the feeling and in the other we cannot. In both we do not.[182]

Dormantdreamcomplexes may give rise to similar phenomena. In a minor way everyone, probably, has experienced the persistence of the emotional effects of a dream after waking and after the memory of the dream has vanished. More commonly, of course, the dream is remembered, but in the cases of people who do not remember their dreams the phenomenon is precise. B. C. A., for example, does not as a rule remember her dreams, but nevertheless frequently awakes in a state of anxiety or exaltation which has considerable persistency. In hypnosis the dream which gives rise to the emotional state is recovered.

In pathological conditions these post-hypnotic, hysterical, dream, and other phenomena suggest,among other questions, whether in depressive and excited psychoses the affective element is not derived from submerged unconscious complexes.Melancholias, for example, may in some cases at least derive their feeling tone from such complexes.

171. Janet: The Mental States of Hystericals, pp. 289-290. Prince: The Dissociation, pp. 132-5, 262, 297–8, 324-5, 497.

171. Janet: The Mental States of Hystericals, pp. 289-290. Prince: The Dissociation, pp. 132-5, 262, 297–8, 324-5, 497.

172. The Unconscious,Journal Abnormal Psychology, April-May, 1909.

172. The Unconscious,Journal Abnormal Psychology, April-May, 1909.

173. Morton Prince: (Psychotherapeutics; A Symposium. Richard G. Badger, Boston, 1910.) Also The Unconscious,Journal of Abnormal Psychology, April-May, and June-July, 1909.

173. Morton Prince: (Psychotherapeutics; A Symposium. Richard G. Badger, Boston, 1910.) Also The Unconscious,Journal of Abnormal Psychology, April-May, and June-July, 1909.

174. See p.178, Lecture VI.

174. See p.178, Lecture VI.

175. Memory of them could only be obtained in abstraction and hypnosis.

175. Memory of them could only be obtained in abstraction and hypnosis.

176. Fear Neurosis,Boston Med. and Surg. Journal, September 28, 1898.

176. Fear Neurosis,Boston Med. and Surg. Journal, September 28, 1898.

177. The Dissociation, see index, “Subconscious Ideas,” and “Subconscious Self.”

177. The Dissociation, see index, “Subconscious Ideas,” and “Subconscious Self.”

178. The Dissociation, loc. cit.

178. The Dissociation, loc. cit.

179. Ibid., p. 132.

179. Ibid., p. 132.

180. It is worth noting that this interpretation is supported by the therapeutic result. The attacks completely and quickly ceased after the setting to her apprehensive idea was so altered, by one single explanation, that she no longer feared the loyalty of her friend.

180. It is worth noting that this interpretation is supported by the therapeutic result. The attacks completely and quickly ceased after the setting to her apprehensive idea was so altered, by one single explanation, that she no longer feared the loyalty of her friend.

181. The Dissociation, pp. 262, 297, 298 and 324, 325, 497; also The Unconscious,Journal of Abnormal Psychology, April-May, 1909.

181. The Dissociation, pp. 262, 297, 298 and 324, 325, 497; also The Unconscious,Journal of Abnormal Psychology, April-May, 1909.

182. Prince: The Unconscious,Journal of Abnormal Psychology, April-May and June-July, 1909.

182. Prince: The Unconscious,Journal of Abnormal Psychology, April-May and June-July, 1909.


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