Few other subjects are fraught with as much ambiguity and misunderstanding as neurosis. Given its highly subjective character it is only understandable that the language around it gets instantly personalized. Hence, this chapter specifies what definitions will be used going forward for three of the most central concepts: Neurosis, repression and suppression.
Neurosis
Starting from the basics, according to the Cambridge Dictionary neurosis refers to ‘a mental illness resulting in high levels of anxiety, unreasonable fears and behaviour and, often, a need to repeat actions for no reason’ [1]. In sum, it forms an umbrella term that contains a range of more specific diagnoses.
But why this broad generalization? Jung opines that the knowledge of specific diagnoses is generally overvalued, especially at the start of treatment. This is because, as a rule, the content of the neurosis ‘only manifests itself in the course of the treatment’ [2]. In fact, the accurate diagnosis most frequently only becomes evident at the end. As a result, ‘It will profit the psychotherapist to know as little as possible about specific diagnoses’ [2]. ‘Generally speaking, the less the psychotherapist knows in advance, the better the chances for the treatment. Nothing is more deleterious than a routine understanding of everything’ [2]. Naturally, some comprehension of differential diagnoses is required, for instance between organic and psychic diseases. Nevertheless, the better way to conceptualize mental illness is that each individual has a unique breaking point. Then, if the person is subjected to more strain than they can manage, they break. Or in clinical terms, a certain profile of psychopathology emerges. Since one's unique temperament and psychic economy are intricately tied to this profile, the result is a proliferation of mental illness diagnoses. Nowhere is this more evident than in contemporary psychology.
But despite the wide range of mental illnesses, a central term can be ascribed to virtually all of these cases: Neurosis. Because this concept unites the tremendous complexity of differential diagnoses under one generalization, it has incredible semantic utility. For this reason, the generalization of neurosis is taken. Investigating its fundamental causes and its peculiar finality gives sufficient material to understand and cure this illness. This holistic standpoint has the added benefit of not getting entangled in the web of theories surrounding the myriad of differential diagnoses.
One of the lenses through which Jung views neurosis is by defining it as ‘self-division’. Jung elaborates: ‘In most people the cause of the division is that the conscious mind wants to hang on to its moral ideal, while the unconscious strives after its—in the contemporary sense—unmoral ideal which the conscious mind tries to deny’ [3]. This seems to apply most to the ascetic Puritan who conforms rigidly to societal convention. To the degree that they thereby exile their inner nature, to that degree it will constellate an inner opposition. While nothing may be wrong with the ‘expectations of society’, one-sided conformism to these produces psychic injury. Moreover, it is a convenient excuse to shirk on the daunting task of coming to terms with both one’s outer and inner life. Jung emphasizes that self-division can easily be reversed too. Neurotics just as often swing the other way. They conduct themselves disreputably and do not put the least restraint upon themselves. For all their proud rebelliousness, this is merely a pose. 'In the background they have their moral side which has fallen into the unconscious’ [3].
In both situations, the individual prefers to delay confronting the inner conflict. This is achieved by identifying entirely with one side of the coin while discarding the other. ‘Were the conflict clearly conscious in all its parts, presumably it would never give rise to neurotic symptoms; these occur only when we cannot see the other side of our nature and the urgency of its problems‘ [3]. In this way, the neurotic always feels in some subtle way incomplete. ‘The neurotic is rather a person who can never have things as he would like them in the present, and who can therefore never enjoy the past either’ [4]. The tragic fact is that the neurotic cannot help but perpetuate their misery, for old habits die hard. On a dreary note, Jung concludes ‘The neurotic who tries to wriggle out of the necessity of living wins nothing and only burdens himself with a constant foretaste of aging and dying, which must appear especially cruel on account of the total emptiness and meaninglessness of his life’ [5].
Repression
The second core concept to be elucidated is none other than ‘repression’, a core mechanism in the making of neurosis according to Freud. Upon hearing this word, people generally have a certain intuitive apprehension of this act. Because the forms of these vary widely, a precise definition and explication is in order—what better way to shine a light on such a nebulous concept than by allegory. Jung circumambulates: ‘Repression is a sort of half-conscious and half-hearted letting go of things, a dropping of hot cakes or a reviling of grapes which hang too high, or a looking the other way in order not to become conscious of one's desires’ [6].
This act of ‘looking the other way’, choosing blissful ignorance, causes these desires to be driven into the background. In other words, they are split off from the personality and relegated to the hinterlands of the psyche (this likely even happens anatomically in the human body whereby the brain cortex neurologically dissociates from the limbic system and the peripheral nervous system). The natural result is the forming of a ‘shadow government’ within the psyche of the individual. ‘The conscious personality with its one-track (exogamous) tendency comes up against an invisible (endogamous) opponent, and because this is unconscious it is felt to be a stranger’ [7].
What happens to this banished part of the personality? To ego-consciousness it appears inactivated, even ceasing to exist. In actual fact, however, things look far different 'below the hood'. Imagine driving a car and suddenly seeing a flashing warning sign on one’s dashboard, alerting one to the fact that the motor oil is overheating. Now instead of fixing the issue, one decides to merely deactivate the warning light. Though one can now drive on undisturbed, the problem has not gone away. Far from it as one might picture. Without conscious awareness the motor problem takes on a life of its own, just as it does in the psyche. Jung alerts us that repression ‘brings about a possession of the personality, with the result that the individual's aims are falsified in the interests of the split-off part’ [7]. In terms of our car analogy, the vehicle might suddenly stutter, might stall completely, or might even explode. All that to the cluelessness and perplexity of the driver.
Therefore, over time the act of repression becomes so automatic that it escapes conscious volition. At this stage, rather than ‘repressing’ feeling-toned memories it is far more accurate to say that they are seized from the patient. Jung elaborates on how such a condition typically develops, ‘There are people, lots of them, who cannot recollect the critical event at all; they have forgotten it. They have repressed the unpleasant experience so forcefully that it can no longer be revived. The critical incident is so unpleasant that one understands immediately why he did not wish to be reminded of it. In the more serious cases of hysteria, this inability to remember is in fact the rule. In these cases, the complex is stronger than the conscious will and drives the subject in such a way that he cannot will himself to remember. The complex plays the part of a second and stronger personality, to which ego-consciousness is subjected’ [8].
To the modern scientific mind these descriptions immediately sound like superstition. Jung addresses this by clarifying the nature of the unconscious: ‘The unconscious is best understood if we regard it as a natural organ with its own specific creative energy. If as a result of repressions its products can find no outlet in consciousness, a sort of blockage ensues, an unnatural inhibition of a purposive function, just as if the bile, the natural product of the function of the liver, were impeded in its discharge into the bowel. As a result of the repression, wrong psychic outlets are found. Like bile seeping into the blood, the repressed content infiltrates into other psychic and physiological spheres.’ Whether the infiltration has a predominantly psychic or physiological character depends on the class of neurosis: ‘In hysteria it is chiefly the physiological functions that are disturbed; in other neuroses, such as phobias, obsessions, and compulsion neuroses, it is chiefly the psychic functions, including dreams’ [9].
The effects of these disturbances radiate outwards into the environment too. Just as the car explosion injures the passengers, and possibly bystanders too, so repression also has contaminating effects. Jung makes a reprimanding note ‘Repression has the apparent advantage of clearing the conscious mind of worry, and the spirit of all its troubles, but, to counter that, it causes an indirect suffering from something unreal, namely a neurosis’ [10]. By repressing the cause of the suffering one lessens the direct burden of it ever so slightly, ensuring at the same time though that the issue does not get resolved. As a result, a neurosis develops which then also ‘radiates out into the environment and, if there are children, infects them too.’ In sum, neurosis is not only a personal problem, it is just as much a familial and communal problem.
Suppression
An important distinction from repression is the concept of ‘suppression’. As explicated earlier, the former is ‘a rather immoral penchant for getting rid of disagreeable decisions’. In contrast, the latter is much more a conscious moral choice. In sum, even though the two share a range of characteristics, repression amounts to an unconscious compulsion while suppression is voluntary. Guided by the light of consciousness, it ‘may cause worry, conflict and suffering but it never causes a neurosis’. Jung warns us with the famous and ever-timely quote ‘Neurosis is always a substitute for legitimate suffering’ [6].
A common misconception from individuals, particularly ones closely acquainted with the Freudian theory of repression, is that any form of restraint or inhibition is pathological and injurious to the psyche. But to our inconvenience, matters are of course more nuanced than that. ‘Self-restraint is healthy and beneficial; it may even be a virtue.’ Jung emphasizes. The initiation rites of primitive societies are clear evidence of the valorization of discipline. ‘We find self-discipline to be one of the earliest moral arts even among primitive peoples, where it has its place in the initiation ceremonies, chiefly in the form of ascetic continence and the stoical endurance of pain and fear. Self-restraint is here practised within a secret society as an undertaking shared with others’.
Whether shared or concealed is the key distinction between health and pathology. ‘If self-restraint is only a personal matter, unconnected with any religious views, it may become injurious’ [11]. In other words, if restraint is exercised only for oneself this amounts to a ‘psychic misdemeanor for which nature finally visits us with sickness’. What appears to be decisive hereby is that in private the withheld affect or secret is far more at risk of falling below the threshold of consciousness and being concealed even from ourselves. ‘The possession of secrets acts like a psychic poison that alienates their possessor from the community’. This poison acts differently depending on ‘the respective predominance of secrets or of inhibited emotions’. Peculiarly, the interplay between these two poles of repression appears to be the main cause of the different forms of neurosis. On the one hand, the ‘hysterical subject who is very free with his emotions’ tends to have secrets. On the other hand, the ‘hardened psychasthenic’ (possessing phobias, obsessions and compulsions) bottles up emotions, leading to ‘emotional indigestion’.
But here comes the catch. Like anything potent and effective, the poison of secrets or inhibited emotions can be a precious elixir in small doses. ‘Even an essential precondition of individual differentiation’ Jung highlights. The primitive individual discovered this invaluable lesson also: ‘Even on the primitive level man feels an irresistible need actually to invent secrets: their possession safeguards him from dissolving in the featureless flow of unconscious community life and thus from deadly peril to his soul.’ The range of mystery cults right up until the early Christian Church guarded their secrets carefully. ‘Even the Christian sacraments were looked upon as "mysteries" in the early Church, and, as in the case of baptism, were celebrated in secluded spots and only mentioned under the veil of allegory’ [11].
The ability to withhold emotions and harbor secrets comes from the mere relative continuity of our consciousness. So fragile is this continuity that it can be easily disrupted for roughly 8 hours per day in sleep. But even in the daytime, various moods, i.e. frames of mind, make their appearances in the theatre of our consciousness and thereby alter it markedly. This dissociability of the psyche is actually of great advantage. ‘Whenever you want to switch your attention from something in order to concentrate it on something else, you have to suppress the previously existing contents of consciousness, because, if you cannot disregard them, you will not be able to change your object of interest’ [10]. It allows us to focus on one point by disregarding everything else that seeks our attention, pushing it into a sort of ‘psychic background’. Just as the camera lens needs to blur the surroundings to focus on a specific object, so our consciousness does likewise.
As a result, this ability is best regarded merely as a tool, capable of good and evil depending on its application. Jung cautions us, ‘It makes a great difference, however, whether your consciousness purposely splits off and suppresses a part of the psyche temporarily, or whether the same thing happens to you, so that the psyche splits spontaneously without your consent and knowledge, or perhaps even against your will’ [12]. Thankfully, there exists a clear indicator which tells us which mechanism is at hand: ‘Suppression does not cause forgetting, but repression definitely does.' Jung elaborates, 'Repression causes what is called a systematic amnesia, where only specific memories or groups of ideas are withdrawn from recollection. In such cases a certain attitude or tendency can be detected on the part of the conscious mind, a deliberate intention to avoid even the bare possibility of recollection, for the very good reason that it would be painful or disagreeable’ [10].
In conclusion, the distinction between repression and suppression is subtle yet significant. Does the person avoid suffering by banishing difficult emotions or do they merely suppress them temporarily to achieve focus? In the former case, the person shuns a part of their personality. What ensues is analogous to what inevitably happens in tyrannical political regimes: Underground resistance develops which periodically sabotages state operations. In extreme cases, this form of ‘guerrilla warfare’ can culminate in an all-out coup of ego-consciousness, a core characteristic of all psychopathology. On the other hand, things look far different in the case of suppression. The person with a difficult temperament suffers from his conscious problems but does not become ill. Because the problematic affects are conscious they can be negotiated with. They can be commanded to await their turn and find their outlet in suitable contexts. This is the essence of emotional integration which can be effected with the help of emotional suppression. Suppression is a ‘civilized achievement’ while repression is a ‘cause of neurosis’ [4].
References
1. Cambridge University Press. (2024). Neurosis. In Cambridge dictionary. https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/neurosis
2. Jung, C. G. (1954). The practice of psychotherapy: Essays on the psychology of the transference and other subjects. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull, Trans., Vol. 16). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 7: Medicine and Psychotherapy]
3. Jung, C. G. (1953). Two Essays on analytical psychology. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull, Trans., Vol. 7). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 1: On the psychology of the unconscious]
4. Jung, C. G. (1954). The structure and dynamics of the psyche. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull (Trans.), Vol. 8). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 16: Stages of life]
5. Jung, C. G. (1954). The structure and dynamics of the psyche. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull (Trans.), Vol. 8). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 17: The soul and death]
6. Jung, C. G. (1942). Psychology and religion: East and West. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull (Trans.), Vol. 11). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 1: A psychological approach to the dogma of the trinity]
7. Jung, C. G. (1954) The practice of psychotherapy: Essays on the psychology of the transference and other subjects. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull, Trans., Vol. 16). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 12: The psychology of the transference]
8. Jung, C. G. (1910) Experimental researches. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull, Trans., Vol. 2). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 8: The psychopathological significance of the association experiment]
9. Jung, C. G. (1954). The structure and dynamics of the psyche. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull, Trans., Vol. 16). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 14: Analytical psychology and weltanschauung]
10. Jung, C. G. (1954). The development of personality. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull, Trans., Vol. 17). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 4: Analytical psychology and education]
11. Jung, C. G. (1954) The practice of psychotherapy: Essays on the psychology of the transference and other subjects. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull, Trans., Vol. 16). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 5: Problems of modern psychotherapy]
12. Jung, C. G. (1954) Miscellany. The collected works of C. G. Jung (R. F. C. Hull, Trans., Vol. 18). Princeton University Press. [Chapter 2: Symbols and the interpretation of dreams]
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