Freud Report

Hysteria and my mystics class

Symptoms of hysteria include “anorexia, carried to the pitch of rejection of all nourishment, various forms of disturbance of vision, constantly recurrent visual hallucinations, etc.” (p 4) These are remarkably similar to some of the signs of holiness in mystics. Saint Claire (?) starved herself to death. Hildegard of Bingen had a constant disturbance of vision and frequent visions, which some might term hallucinations. Breuer and Freud were not unfamiliar with these similarities. They claim that hysteria results from repressed reaction to trauma, and hence is common in “saints and nuns” (p 11) as well as others taught to repress their feelings. Thus this paper seeks not only to define hysteria and explain its cause, but also to explain why “saints and nuns” are so often effected. It is not approaching mysticism neutrally, but with the idea of explaining the phenomenon as illness. The writers go so far in making this connection, that they refer to a certain set of symptoms as a “hysterical stigmata.” (p 15)

However, the hidden symptoms they attribute to hysteria do fit extremely well in finding a non-mystical explanation for mystics. They claim that dissociative states, otherwise known as “splitting of consciousness” or multiple personalities, are “present to a rudimentary degree in every hysteria . . ..” (p 12) Thus, hysterics have two voices. One is their own voice, and one is the voice of the “hypnoid states” that hysterics enter into during hysterical attacks. “The ideas which emerge [during hysterical attacks or hypnosis] are very intense but are cut off from associative communication with the rest of the content of consciousness.” (p 12) Therefore, the ideas do not exist in an accessible form during the hysterics normal, waking self. They are ideas from an internal other.

Breuer and Freud assert that hysterics enter into hypnoid states for a few reasons. One is excessive daydreaming, “to which needlework and similar occupations render women especially prone.” (p 13) Thus they continue to define hysteria as female. The case studies where they find the root causes of hysteria include examples of men and women. In all cases though, the victims endured some trauma and were powerless to stop it. The hysterical man was physically attacked by his boss. (p 14) He was thus feminized and made subordinate through physical force. His attacks also stemmed from having been unable to win a case against his boss in court. The hysterical man was thus denied access to power through normal channels. He was thus feminized and responded to that in an affective, feminine manner. This is similar to the condition of female religious who can never rise in power through the church, due to their gender. They also had an affective hysterical response, which at the time allowed some of them to gain power. This powerlessness shows up again when the writers describe the typical hysteric, “They include girls who get out of bed at night so as secretly to carry on some study that their parents have forbidden from fear of their overworking.” (p 240) Girls who are barred from gaining power, in this case knowledge, through normal channels. As the lives of our mystics are not well known, it’s hard to know how much they fall into these patterns. It’s easy, though, to imagine Joan of Arc, the self-proclaimed best spinner in all of Domremy, working and day dreaming about leading soldiers to battle.

The mystic who most closely matches hysteria as defined by Breuer and Freud, is Kempe. Her woes started during a time of trauma surrounding childbirth and lead her to experience hallucinations of demons and other hysterical symptoms for months. Even when that ceased, she continued to have hysterical symptoms, similar to those described by Breuer: “Every pain, however, caused, reaches maximum intensity, every ailment is ‘fearful’ and ‘unbearable’. . . . We find nervous palpitation of the heart, a tendency to fainting, proneness to excessive blushing and turning pale, and so on.” (p 241) It fits perfectly with a Freudian hypothesis that her traumatic event was sexual and her visions and her issues surrounding her husband were of a sexual nature. Breuer goes on to say that auto-hypnosis, such as Kempe’s visions, “develops from reveries that are charged with affect.” (p 248) For example, Kempe’s in depth day dreams about the passion of Christ or of serving the Blessed Virgin while she was pregnant may qualify. Kempe reports crying constantly during these meditations. Perhaps her praying for visions was a form of auto-hypnosis which triggered her hysterical states. Perhaps all successful prayers for visions are auto-hypnosis.

faq

  1. Is it ok that I’m reading your blog?
    If I didn’t want folks to read it, I wouldn’t be posting it where they could see it. (yes)
  2. What’s going on with you and Christi?
    Neither of us wants to reconcile. I am buying her out of the house. I’ll sue for divorce (thus jumping into the gay marriage legal fray) in May when I’m in CA and I have time.

woof

I just got xena back from her dog sitter. she stayed with a music dept secretary for about 2 – 2.5 weeks. I picked her up this afternoon. she was moderately happy to see me, but also bored in the way she is these days. *yawn*. Deb, the sitter, though, was nearly overwrought. She told Xena a bunch of times that she loved her. Told me to bring Xena back for a visit. Told me how great Xena is. Clearly did not wish to be parted from my dog.

which brings me to the problem of this summer. My current plan is to disappear from CT as soon as possible, prolly the first week of May, and head back to CA. There, I’ll hopefully have an internship doing audio programming (in C, C++, Java, Supercollider, MAX/MSP), sound engineering (protools/digital performer), or sound design. (Resume coming very soon. hire me.) And then head back some time in august, possibly heading to the Michigan womyn’s Music Festival and maybe on to the Deep Listening Resteat and then finally to NYC, where I’ll be crashing with Jess. So big questions surround poor little Xena.
If I have an internship, I’m going to need to find a daily afternoon dog walker. And then, what to do with her during august. Even if I skip music festivals, I’m still going to need a place for her while I’m in NY. So I’ve got at least two options of where to put her for the summer. One is to send her where she went for winter break and one to send her to spring break lodging and in both cases, I’d give slightly less than 50% odds that I’d get her back. I barely got her back from winter break. She’s very happy when she goes to see these people. They have space for her to run and other dogs and one has kids and the other has a farm. she’s prolly a lot happier there than she is lurking in my house with no dog contact and insufficient exercise. But she makes me really happy.
I wouldn’t adopt a dog right now. Heck, I wouldn’t adopt a cat right now. when I got her, I had a stable job, I was married, I owned my house. even then she didn’t get walked enough all the time. It’ll be harder to fit her into my swinging urban hipster lifestyle when I come back. My current thought is “I’ll find a way.” and drive her back to CA and then drop her off maybe with her spring break sitter when I get back to the east coast. But maybe I shouldn’t have a dog at all….

Back in CT

Got up at an ungodly early hour to get my 6:00 AM plane, which was, for some reason, routed through Dallas. I think I may go with the second cheapest tickets next time. Mitch says that the Dallas routing was because I flew American. “If you flew American to hell, you’d go through Dallas.” Or would that be the final destination?

Continuing my trend of having angry people sitting next to me on planes, I was roused from my nap by an angry, loud yelling argument. And the person who was yellling… was the stewardess. Apparently a 95 year old non-english-speaking diabled woman had failed to comply with an instruction to get out of the isle (go figure) and this stewardess had done something to the woman and then was yelling at her extremely upset son who thought that elderly, disabled people deserved a bit of consideration. They went back and forth a loooong time. I didn’t see the incident. I don’t know who was right. I do know that the stewardess finally “won” the argument by claiming the guy was calling her stupid and insulting her. The guy was not. She had very very poor conflict resolution skills. And I think it’s possible that most people have terrible conflict resolution skills. My Middletown housemate, Aaron, teaches kids some of these school in public schools, but his techniquies are “think of the color blue” and don’t hit the other kid. I think teaching kids age-appropriate conflict resolution throughout their schooling would be really good for society as a whole. Anyway, there are right ways to win arguments and wrong ways and sometimes winning isn’t a good goal. That’s my thought.
I got home to my humble abode and noticed a slightly weird smell and decided it was cuz the garbage hadn’t been emptied and so I was ignoring it, trying to figure out what was up with two of the power outlets in the living room. Stereo and modem were both dead. Alas. Then my hosuemate suddenly appeared and I was talking to him about stuff and Jess showed up. Aaron popped open the fridge to look for some beers and made a loud exclaimation.
Not only did both of us fail to clean out tupperware, throw out soy milk or do any preperation for being gone two weeks, the mini-power outage also included the fridge. And it had been off for a while. Green fuzz coated the entire inside. when he opened the door, a haze of mold spores filled the kitchen. ack ack ack.
Aaron is currently bleaching the inside of the fridge. I will mop afterwards. We found the tripped breaker and restored it. But what made it trip? Was it just something random, or is our house in danger of burning to the ground? I’m glad I installed smoke detectors.
oy. well, the fridge needed cleaning anyway.

Audium

Went to see the audium last night, a 35-year-old audio installation with many many speakers. It cost $12 to get in. Apparently, they’ve been playing the same piece of music there for the last nine years. The speakers are all 35 years old, it seems and not very sharp, but they are what they are. Despite having hundreds of speakers, they only have 4 tracks of audio. this is actually logical, as i was trying to figure out how anyone could afford hundreds of amplifiers for each speaker and hundreds of tracks of tape or whatever. but 4 tracks means 4 amps and 4 tracks of tape, which is reasonable. It’s all analog, so the lack of crispness could just be from playing the same tape twice a week for nine years. the high pitched audio gradually gets rubbed off of the tape and gets stuck to the tape head. crispness is all pretty high-frequency. This hapens this way because the magnetic material on the tape has some thickness. High frequencies do not have a lot of energy to penetrate the tape, so they end up mostly on the surface. Low frequencies have much higher energy and end up at the “bottom” of the tape. this I think I recall from Maggi Payne’s class in audio engineering.
Anyway, at the Audium, the same guy does this every time. I can’t imagine spending nine years playing the same work twice a week. But he gets audience. There were more than 30 people there. He’s working on a new piece, which will be deployed in a month or two. And there’s talk of opening up the installation for other composers some time after that. But it might be a year or two. Things don’t seem to move quickly at the audium.
the nine year old piece features some tape collage of recordings of birds and ocean sounds and stuff. then there are a bunch of cheesy analog synth sounds. alas, they really are cheesy. they sound like they must be much older than they apparently are. There was a cool Forbidden Planet type vibe around them, tho. (If you have not seen this movie, you must. It has an amazing soundtrack.) The room is darkened completely during the show. Pitch black. And then an intermission of 5 minutes and then pitch black again. I fell asleep during the first half. I don’t think pitch black is the best way to listen to sound. I mean, you do want to concentrate with your ears more than your eyes, but I think senses highten each other more than they compete. Sitting in a dark, still room with no air circulation could tend to de-focus you, rather than steer your focus towards sounds, but I dunno. I know that if/when I go again, I’m going to be more rested. I fidgeted constantly during the second half to be wakeful, which worked, but there’s still some sensory deprivation element that makes it hard for me to pay attention.
It would be cool to combine a million (ok, over a hundred) speakers with something like a planetarium, so you could do audio collage and laser light show at the same time! ok, maybe not…

other stuff

Today is the last non-travel day of my break. The navel gazing has come to an end so I can get some school work done and because it’s undignified to make a spectacle of myself. No really. I have dropped down to my normal, background level of angst. I feel happy. (I just discovered halvah in the fridge that Ellen had been hiding from me, so it wouldn’t all disappear. but then she decided it was safe to leave it in sight again..) I feel kind of transformed, maybe, but I’m not questioning everything anymore. Socrates said the unexamined life is not worth living, but the over-examined life is a problem too. Yeah, this means I’m going to keep doing things just cuz it’s how I’ve always done it and it seems not to be causing a problem. Maybe it’s stupid to be a vegetarian. I don’t care. I’ve been doing it for 11 years and I’m not stopping now.
As for identity: I am my ideas, experiences and perceptions. I start at the tips of my fingers and end at the bottom of my toes. That’s it. “Finding myself” was my excuse for my 25-year-old driftiness. I am hereby declaring myself found. I’m the person sitting in front of the laptop.
happy happy happy

fate

this post killed for being too navel-gazing. for pete’s sake.
–Update– this post restored by popular demand
Lately, whatever I’ve needed has come to me. Not what I wanted, but what I needed. People are appearing at the right times and being helpful to me or nice to me or generally improving my situation a great deal. I feel happy right now and it’s because of friends (current and from the past) and some people appearing that I didn’t expect. I feel loved, not just by family and friends but also, somehow, by fate or whatever that seems to be steering me in the right direction and causing things to appear at exactly the right time. I think I’m going to become a unitarian.
And so I dunno what to do with myself when the semester ends. I want to come back here, where I’m surrounded by caring and kind people and to pick up things I’ve started while here. But, alas, Ellen points out that I really really must do more in nyc. (She’s right. It’s essential for my career.) Then I’ve got financial entanglements, in that I’ll be paying my berkeley morgage and my CT rent no matter where in the world I go off to. And so I feel pulled in multiple directions by career, connections to home and whatnot.
So I’m going to send out some resumes in all directions and then trust in fate. I’m not sure how much trust I have in descision making right now. I decide things and they turn out to not matter cuz of changing circumstance or I decide something and later decide it was a disaster. Or I try to decide things, but am ultimately powerless. I have many feelings, but I don’t know how much to trust them or how much weight to give them. All sort of new experiences that most folks have at age 20, not at age 28. filled with doubt. and pulled, ultimately, by the difference between what i want and what i need. alas. how can i tell which is which?

Event!

I am going tommorrow (friday) night to see the Audium. If you would like to join me (I would very much like it if you did), the instructions on the Audium website say to arrive at 1616 Bush St., SF. by 8:00 PM. As there are supposed to be large anti-war protests in the City, it might be a good idea to ride transit in (or head over after blocking the federal building or whatever).
The Audium is something of an SF landmark. It’s been there since the 1970’s. And it’s a room with 169 speakers where concerts are given every weekend. I haven’t gone before, so it’s about time. Reviews of it have been mixed, but there’s a few reasons to check it out aside from its landmarkness. some people complain about the old-school 70’s synthesizer sounds. (!!????) 70’s synths are awesome! They’re way better than digital. Anyway, I heard a rumor that it might be opened up for other composers to write stuff for the space, so I want to check it out for that reason too. and I thought it might make a nifty group outing. so come, if you can!

Not Reading Freud

I’m supposed to be readin Freud right now, but I’m not doing it. I swear I will do it . . . later. I have to give a report on Monday, so yeah, I’ll do it later. Anytime now. Right after I post to my blog and eat lunch and….

And what about ameliorating the crushing pain of existence? Life is inherently tumultuous. Bad things happen. All the freaking time. But good things happen too. You’ve got your joy of existance and your wonder of existence and your beauty of existence. Would it make a difference if we talked about things that adulterated to joy of existence rather than talking about things that ease the crushing pain of existence? How would our worldview suddenly shift? I mean, you can’t avoid pain unless there’s something wrong with you. Maybe you can’t avoid joy either. Maybe there’s more than one state of existence. Maybe the states of existence are not in binary opposition to each other. Maybe pain is a way of teaching us things and so adds to joy. Maybe joy is a way to create contrast and so adds to pain. Are you a pessimist or an optomist? Maybe this is all so knotted up and gordian you can never untangle it. Maybe any way you look at it is simultaneously a useful tool for understanding things and a distortion. What good are words anyway? Where would be without words? What if everything is in everything else? What if all distinctions and all ontology are just tricks we use to survive and find food?
I’m going to describe my current state as ungrounded. I don’t know where the gound is. I don’t know which way is up. I don’t know if talking about “up” has meaning except in relation to gravity. It’s not a useful direction to give in a space station. My words here are bordering on cliche. Ungrounded. Sleep-deprived. Experiencing beauty and wonder.

forgiveness

My highschool religion teacher in my junior year told us that we needed to always forgive but “don’t be a doormat.” I had the kind of disrespect for her that only a highschool student could have. What could this possibly mean aside from being a cliche or a half-hearted forgiveness?
Sharon Olds (I think) writes a lot of poetry about her father, who was abusive. In one of her poems, she talks about thinking of her father as a young boy, before he was abused and when he was joyful and not yet broken and transformed into a monster. She thought of him then and loved him then. Because holding hate in your heart is too heavy? Because everyone, even people who hurt you, deserves love or maybe it’s easier to love than to hate? I don’t have answers. I only have questions.
You’ve done bad things. I’ve done bad things. Maybe you don’t know why you did bad things. Maybe you’ve thought about it and found an explination or a reason, something so you can say that you were doing your best and forgive yourself. I shouldn’t have called her an asshat, but I was really angry. I had a terrible day. My cat died that morning. Or something. I was fucked up. It was a fucked up time in my life. Or something.
Everyone has extenuating circumstances. Everyone has reasons. Everyone thought that what they were doing was the best thing to do or was under some sort of compulsion or was hurt or was damaged. You can empathize with yourself. Man, I yelled all the time when my mom was dying and that was extremely stressful for the people around me, but my mom was dying and I had no tools for dealing with it. I can empathize and forgive myself. Does this sound easy? It’s not. Forgiving myself is harder than forgiving anyone else. This is how I’ve been doing it: Look at what I did that was wrong. Look at what I should have done different. Try to understand why I did wrong things. Empathize with myself. Try to avoid thinking errors like overgeneralization, labelling, emotional reasoning, all-or-nothingism, etc. Find places where I did things right, if I can. Keep in mind correct deeds in addition to misdeeds. Take deep breaths. Cry. Eat a lot of Halvah (or equivalent) (Ancient proverb: Halvah ameliorates the crushing pain of existence). Feel rage. Try to get rage to subside. Not a quick thing. this why I’ve done no homework. I tried to forgive other people. I put blame on myself for my part in causing disaster. I tried to forgive myself. Now I’m back to other people. I don’t think there’s a set algorythm for how to do this. I feel like to forgive other people, I need to keep love in mind. to forgive myself is the same deal, I think. “poor me. look at the mess i was in. i did my best.” It sounds like ways I was trained not to think. I’m not supposed to feel sorry for myself. I’m supposed to have charecter, whatever that is. Freud says that people get hysteria because they supress emotions and reactions to things . . . and too much daydreaming.
Teaching myself new ways to think. Freud says (ok, I did some of my Freud reading afterall) that incorrect (or let’s say instead “not useful”) thought patterns can wear deep ruts really quickly. When you train yourself to think in a new way, you are literally forming new connections between neurons and neglecting strong, well-connected pathways. This is not an easy thing to do. It’s why seeing those 3-D magic eye pictures is so difficult for the first time. You really, actually, need to rewire your brain. So I’m rewiring my brain, which is why it’s not surprising that I couldn’t concentrate on anything.
So what about forgiving other people? Empathy! Empathy! Empathy! What could have caused this person to behave in this way? What is good about this person? What can I love about this person? And then eat a lot of halvah. And then forgive, but don’t be a doormat. Forgiving someone in your heart can be something you do entirely for your own self interest to lighten your load and to move on. Forgiving someone in your heart does not mean that your relationship with the forgiven reverts to the pre-hurt state. If I forgive myself for over-using rage as coping tool, I’m cartainly not going to do that again, if I can help it. so what about relationships with other people? Should I renew them? Change them? Break them off?
How likely is this to happen again? What steps have been taken by me or this person to prevent it? Have I removed some stressor? Has s/he learned some new coping strategy? Was this hurt in repsonce to a once-in-a-lifetime ordeal, or could something like this happen again? How can I communicate my expectations to the other person? Would it make a difference? How do I evaluate whether or not it has made a difference? Cluelessness is indistinguishable from malitiousness in certain instances, so says Dilbert. Was s/he clueless or malicious or can I tell? Can I clue this person in? How much maliciousness should I absorb before I seperate myself from this person? How much time to I allow? What do I do during this time? When do I stop trying? How do I love someone after I quit trying?
I’ve got none of those answers. but they seem like the right questions. Maybe the other person is asking the same questions too. what do I do if s/he gets different answers that I do? what if one of wants change and the other doesn’t? What if one of us wants to break it off?
what is the nature of commitment and expectation? Does it change how much I have to try to change or renew rather than end? I think this is the definition of commitment: I will change and renew as much as I can. I will try to find compromise. I will do whatever I can within my boundaries. (my god, where do the boundaries go?) I think commitment means not giving up until you’ve exhuasted all your options. Of course, there are different levels of commitment. You can’t make anyone else do anything. Just because an expectation seems reasonable to you, doesn’t mean you won’t be disappointed.
More later