That a psychic process developing anxiety may still be a wish-fulfilment

has long ceased to impress us as a contradiction. We may explain this

occurrence by the fact that the wish belongs to one system (the Unc.),

while by the other system (the Forec.), this wish has been rejected and

suppressed. The subjection of the Unc. by the Forec. is not complete

even in perfect psychic health; the amount of this suppression shows the

degree of our psychic normality. Neurotic symptoms show that there is a

conflict between the two systems; the symptoms are the results of a

compromise of this conflict, and they temporarily put an end to it. On

the one hand, they afford the Unc. an outlet for the discharge of its

excitement, and serve it as a sally port, while, on the other hand, they

give the Forec. the capability of dominating the Unc. to some extent. It

is highly instructive to consider, _e.g._, the significance of any

hysterical phobia or of an agoraphobia. Suppose a neurotic incapable of

crossing the street alone, which we would justly call a “symptom.” We

attempt to remove this symptom by urging him to the action which he

deems himself incapable of. The result will be an attack of anxiety,

just as an attack of anxiety in the street has often been the cause of

establishing an agoraphobia. We thus learn that the symptom has been

constituted in order to guard against the outbreak of the anxiety. The

phobia is thrown before the anxiety like a fortress on the frontier.

Unless we enter into the part played by the affects in these processes,

which can be done here only imperfectly, we cannot continue our

discussion. Let us therefore advance the proposition that the reason why

the suppression of the unconscious becomes absolutely necessary is

because, if the discharge of presentation should be left to itself, it

would develop an affect in the Unc. which originally bore the character

of pleasure, but which, since the appearance of the repression, bears

the character of pain. The aim, as well as the result, of the

suppression is to stop the development of this pain. The suppression

extends over the unconscious ideation, because the liberation of pain

might emanate from the ideation. The foundation is here laid for a very

definite assumption concerning the nature of the affective development.

It is regarded as a motor or secondary activity, the key to the

innervation of which is located in the presentations of the Unc. Through

the domination of the Forec. these presentations become, as it were,

throttled and inhibited at the exit of the emotion-developing impulses.

The danger, which is due to the fact that the Forec. ceases to occupy

the energy, therefore consists in the fact that the unconscious

excitations liberate such an affect as—in consequence of the repression

that has previously taken place—can only be perceived as pain or

anxiety.

This danger is released through the full sway of the dream process. The

determinations for its realisation consist in the fact that repressions

have taken place, and that the suppressed emotional wishes shall become

sufficiently strong. They thus stand entirely without the psychological

realm of the dream structure. Were it not for the fact that our subject

is connected through just one factor, namely, the freeing of the Unc.

during sleep, with the subject of the development of anxiety, I could

dispense with discussion of the anxiety dream, and thus avoid all

obscurities connected with it.

As I have often repeated, the theory of the anxiety belongs to the

psychology of the neuroses. I would say that the anxiety in the dream is

an anxiety problem and not a dream problem. We have nothing further to

do with it after having once demonstrated its point of contact with the

subject of the dream process. There is only one thing left for me to do.

As I have asserted that the neurotic anxiety originates from sexual

sources, I can subject anxiety dreams to analysis in order to

demonstrate the sexual material in their dream thoughts.

For good reasons I refrain from citing here any of the numerous examples

placed at my disposal by neurotic patients, but prefer to give anxiety

dreams from young persons.

Personally, I have had no real anxiety dream for decades, but I recall

one from my seventh or eighth year which I subjected to interpretation

about thirty years later. The dream was very vivid, and showed me _my

beloved mother, with peculiarly calm sleeping countenance, carried into

the room and laid on the bed by two (or three) persons with bird’s

beaks_. I awoke crying and screaming, and disturbed my parents. The very

tall figures—draped in a peculiar manner—with beaks, I had taken from

the illustrations of Philippson’s bible; I believe they represented

deities with heads of sparrowhawks from an Egyptian tomb relief. The

analysis also introduced the reminiscence of a naughty janitor’s boy,

who used to play with us children on the meadow in front of the house; I

would add that his name was Philip. I feel that I first heard from this

boy the vulgar word signifying sexual intercourse, which is replaced

among the educated by the Latin “coitus,” but to which the dream

distinctly alludes by the selection of the bird’s heads.[FU] I must have

suspected the sexual significance of the word from the facial expression

of my worldly-wise teacher. My mother’s features in the dream were

copied from the countenance of my grandfather, whom I had seen a few

days before his death snoring in the state of coma. The interpretation

of the secondary elaboration in the dream must therefore have been that

my mother was dying; the tomb relief, too, agrees with this. In this

anxiety I awoke, and could not calm myself until I had awakened my

parents. I remember that I suddenly became calm on coming face to face

with my mother, as if I needed the assurance that my mother was not

dead. But this secondary interpretation of the dream had been effected

only under the influence of the developed anxiety. I was not frightened

because I dreamed that my mother was dying, but I interpreted the dream

in this manner in the foreconscious elaboration because I was already

under the domination of the anxiety. The latter, however, could be

traced by means of the repression to an obscure obviously sexual desire,

which had found its satisfying expression in the visual content of the

dream.

A man twenty-seven years old who had been severely ill for a year had

had many terrifying dreams between the ages of eleven and thirteen. He

thought that a man with an axe was running after him; he wished to run,

but felt paralysed and could not move from the spot. This may be taken

as a good example of a very common, and apparently sexually indifferent,

anxiety dream. In the analysis the dreamer first thought of a story told

him by his uncle, which chronologically was later than the dream, viz.

that he was attacked at night by a suspicious-looking individual. This

occurrence led him to believe that he himself might have already heard

of a similar episode at the time of the dream. In connection with the

axe he recalled that during that period of his life he once hurt his

hand with an axe while chopping wood. This immediately led to his

relations with his younger brother, whom he used to maltreat and knock

down. In particular, he recalled an occasion when he struck his brother

on the head with his boot until he bled, whereupon his mother remarked:

“I fear he will kill him some day.” While he was seemingly thinking of

the subject of violence, a reminiscence from his ninth year suddenly

occurred to him. His parents came home late and went to bed while he was

feigning sleep. He soon heard panting and other noises that appeared

strange to him, and he could also make out the position of his parents

in bed. His further associations showed that he had established an

analogy between this relation between his parents and his own relation

toward his younger brother. He subsumed what occurred between his

parents under the conception “violence and wrestling,” and thus reached

a sadistic conception of the coitus act, as often happens among

children. The fact that he often noticed blood on his mother’s bed

corroborated his conception.

That the sexual intercourse of adults appears strange to children who

observe it, and arouses fear in them, I dare say is a fact of daily

experience. I have explained this fear by the fact that sexual

excitement is not mastered by their understanding, and is probably also

inacceptable to them because their parents are involved in it. For the

same reason this excitement is converted into fear. At a still earlier

period of life sexual emotion directed toward the parent of opposite sex

does not meet with repression but finds free expression, as we have seen

above (pp. 209–215).

For the night terrors with hallucinations (_pavor nocturnus_) frequently

found in children, I would unhesitatingly give the same explanation.

Here, too, we are certainly dealing with the incomprehensible and

rejected sexual feelings, which, if noted, would probably show a

temporal periodicity, for an enhancement of the sexual _libido_ may just

as well be produced accidentally through emotional impressions as

through the spontaneous and gradual processes of development.

I lack the necessary material to sustain these explanations from

observation. On the other hand, the pediatrists seem to lack the point

of view which alone makes comprehensible the whole series of phenomena,

on the somatic as well as on the psychic side. To illustrate by a

comical example how one wearing the blinders of medical mythology may

miss the understanding of such cases, I will relate a case which I found

in a thesis on _pavor nocturnus_ by _Debacker_,[17] 1881 (p. 66). A

thirteen-year-old boy of delicate health began to become anxious and

dreamy; his sleep became restless, and about once a week it was

interrupted by an acute attack of anxiety with hallucinations. The

memory of these dreams was invariably very distinct. Thus, he related

that the _devil_ shouted at him: “Now we have you, now we have you,” and

this was followed by an odour of sulphur; the fire burned his skin. This

dream aroused him, terror-stricken. He was unable to scream at first;

then his voice returned, and he was heard to say distinctly: “No, no,

not me; why, I have done nothing,” or, “Please don’t, I shall never do

it again.” Occasionally, also, he said: “Albert has not done that.”

Later he avoided undressing, because, as he said, the fire attacked him

only when he was undressed. From amid these evil dreams, which menaced

his health, he was sent into the country, where he recovered within a

year and a half, but at the age of fifteen he once confessed: “Je

n’osais pas l’avouer, mais j’éprouvais continuellement des picotements

et des surexcitations aux _parties_;[FV] à la fin, cela m’énervait tant

que plusieurs fois, j’ai pensé me jeter par la fenêtre au dortoir.”

It is certainly not difficult to suspect: 1, that the boy had practised

masturbation in former years, that he probably denied it, and was

threatened with severe punishment for his wrongdoing (his confession: Je

ne le ferai plus; his denial: Albert n’a jamais fait ça). 2, That under

the pressure of puberty the temptation to self-abuse through the

tickling of the genitals was reawakened. 3, That now, however, a

struggle of repression arose in him, suppressing the _libido_ and

changing it into fear, which subsequently took the form of the

punishments with which he was then threatened.

Let us, however, quote the conclusions drawn by our author (p. 69). This

observation shows: 1, That the influence of puberty may produce in a boy

of delicate health a condition of extreme weakness, and that it may lead

to a _very marked cerebral anæmia_.[FW]

2. This cerebral anæmia produces a transformation of character,

demonomaniacal hallucinations, and very violent nocturnal, perhaps also

diurnal, states of anxiety.

3. Demonomania and the self-reproaches of the day can be traced to the

influences of religious education which the subject underwent as a

child.

4. All manifestations disappeared as a result of a lengthy sojourn in

the country, bodily exercise, and the return of physical strength after

the termination of the period of puberty.

5. A predisposing influence for the origin of the cerebral condition of

the boy may be attributed to heredity and to the father’s chronic

syphilitic state.

The concluding remarks of the author read: “Nous avons fait entrer cette

observation dans le cadre des délires apyrétiques d’inanition, car c’est

à l’ischémie cérébrale que nous rattachons cet état particulier.”

(_e_) _The Primary and Secondary Processes—Regression._

In venturing to attempt to penetrate more deeply into the psychology of

the dream processes, I have undertaken a difficult task, to which,

indeed, my power of description is hardly equal. To reproduce in

description by a succession of words the simultaneousness of so complex

a chain of events, and in doing so to appear unbiassed throughout the

exposition, goes fairly beyond my powers. I have now to atone for the

fact that I have been unable in my description of the dream psychology

to follow the historic development of my views. The view-points for my

conception of the dream were reached through earlier investigations in

the psychology of the neuroses, to which I am not supposed to refer

here, but to which I am repeatedly forced to refer, whereas I should

prefer to proceed in the opposite direction, and, starting from the

dream, to establish a connection with the psychology of the neuroses. I

am well aware of all the inconveniences arising for the reader from this

difficulty, but I know of no way to avoid them.

As I am dissatisfied with this state of affairs, I am glad to dwell upon

another viewpoint which seems to raise the value of my efforts. As has

been shown in the introduction to the first chapter, I found myself

confronted with a theme which had been marked by the sharpest

contradictions on the part of the authorities. After our elaboration of

the dream problems we found room for most of these contradictions. We

have been forced, however, to take decided exception to two of the views

pronounced, viz. that the dream is a senseless and that it is a somatic

process; apart from these cases we have had to accept all the

contradictory views in one place or another of the complicated argument,

and we have been able to demonstrate that they had discovered something

that was correct. That the dream continues the impulses and interests of

the waking state has been quite generally confirmed through the

discovery of the latent thoughts of the dream. These thoughts concern

themselves only with things that seem important and of momentous

interest to us. The dream never occupies itself with trifles. But we

have also concurred with the contrary view, viz. that the dream gathers

up the indifferent remnants from the day, and that not until it has in

some measure withdrawn itself from the waking activity can an important

event of the day be taken up by the dream. We found this holding true

for the dream content, which gives the dream thought its changed

expression by means of disfigurement. We have said that from the nature

of the association mechanism the dream process more easily takes

possession of recent or indifferent material which has not yet been

seized by the waking mental activity; and by reason of the censor it

transfers the psychic intensity from the important but also disagreeable

to the indifferent material. The hypermnesia of the dream and the resort

to infantile material have become main supports in our theory. In our

theory of the dream we have attributed to the wish originating from the

infantile the part of an indispensable motor for the formation of the

dream. We naturally could not think of doubting the experimentally

demonstrated significance of the objective sensory stimuli during sleep;

but we have brought this material into the same relation to the

dream-wish as the thought remnants from the waking activity. There was

no need of disputing the fact that the dream interprets the objective

sensory stimuli after the manner of an illusion; but we have supplied

the motive for this interpretation which has been left undecided by the

authorities. The interpretation follows in such a manner that the

perceived object is rendered harmless as a sleep disturber and becomes

available for the wish-fulfilment. Though we do not admit as special

sources of the dream the subjective state of excitement of the sensory

organs during sleep, which seems to have been demonstrated by Trumbull

Ladd,[40] we are nevertheless able to explain this excitement through

the regressive revival of active memories behind the dream. A modest

part in our conception has also been assigned to the inner organic

sensations which are wont to be taken as the cardinal point in the

explanation of the dream. These—the sensation of falling, flying, or

inhibition—stand as an ever ready material to be used by the dream-work

to express the dream thought as often as need arises.

That the dream process is a rapid and momentary one seems to be true for

the perception through consciousness of the already prepared dream

content; the preceding parts of the dream process probably take a slow,

fluctuating course. We have solved the riddle of the superabundant dream

content compressed within the briefest moment by explaining that this is

due to the appropriation of almost fully formed structures from the

psychic life. That the dream is disfigured and distorted by memory we

found to be correct, but not troublesome, as this is only the last

manifest operation in the work of disfigurement which has been active

from the beginning of the dream-work. In the bitter and seemingly

irreconcilable controversy as to whether the psychic life sleeps at

night or can make the same use of all its capabilities as during the

day, we have been able to agree with both sides, though not fully with

either. We have found proof that the dream thoughts represent a most

complicated intellectual activity, employing almost every means

furnished by the psychic apparatus; still it cannot be denied that these

dream thoughts have originated during the day, and it is indispensable

to assume that there is a sleeping state of the psychic life. Thus, even

the theory of partial sleep has come into play; but the characteristics

of the sleeping state have been found not in the dilapidation of the

psychic connections but in the cessation of the psychic system

dominating the day, arising from its desire to sleep. The withdrawal

from the outer world retains its significance also for our conception;

though not the only factor, it nevertheless helps the regression to make

possible the representation of the dream. That we should reject the

voluntary guidance of the presentation course is uncontestable; but the

psychic life does not thereby become aimless, for we have seen that

after the abandonment of the desired end-presentation undesired ones

gain the mastery. The loose associative connection in the dream we have

not only recognised, but we have placed under its control a far greater

territory than could have been supposed; we have, however, found it

merely the feigned substitute for another correct and senseful one. To

be sure we, too, have called the dream absurd; but we have been able to

learn from examples how wise the dream really is when it simulates

absurdity. We do not deny any of the functions that have been attributed

to the dream. That the dream relieves the mind like a valve, and that,

according to Robert’s assertion, all kinds of harmful material are

rendered harmless through representation in the dream, not only exactly

coincides with our theory of the two-fold wish-fulfilment in the dream,

but, in his own wording, becomes even more comprehensible for us than

for Robert himself. The free indulgence of the psychic in the play of

its faculties finds expression with us in the non-interference with the

dream on the part of the foreconscious activity. The “return to the

embryonal state of psychic life in the dream” and the observation of

Havelock Ellis,[23] “an archaic world of vast emotions and imperfect

thoughts,” appear to us as happy anticipations of our deductions to the

effect that _primitive_ modes of work suppressed during the day

participate in the formation of the dream; and with us, as with

Delage,[15] the _suppressed_ material becomes the mainspring of the

dreaming.

We have fully recognised the rôle which Scherner ascribes to the dream

phantasy, and even his interpretation; but we have been obliged, so to

speak, to conduct them to another department in the problem. It is not

the dream that produces the phantasy but the unconscious phantasy that

takes the greatest part in the formation of the dream thoughts. We are

indebted to Scherner for his clue to the source of the dream thoughts,

but almost everything that he ascribes to the dream-work is attributable

to the activity of the unconscious, which is at work during the day, and

which supplies incitements not only for dreams but for neurotic symptoms

as well. We have had to separate the dream-work from this activity as

being something entirely different and far more restricted. Finally, we

have by no means abandoned the relation of the dream to mental

disturbances, but, on the contrary, we have given it a more solid

foundation on new ground.

Thus held together by the new material of our theory as by a superior

unity, we find the most varied and most contradictory conclusions of the

authorities fitting into our structure; some of them are differently

disposed, only a few of them are entirely rejected. But our own

structure is still unfinished. For, disregarding the many obscurities

which we have necessarily encountered in our advance into the darkness

of psychology, we are now apparently embarrassed by a new contradiction.

On the one hand, we have allowed the dream thoughts to proceed from

perfectly normal mental operations, while, on the other hand, we have

found among the dream thoughts a number of entirely abnormal mental

processes which extend likewise to the dream contents. These,

consequently, we have repeated in the interpretation of the dream. All

that we have termed the “dream-work” seems so remote from the psychic

processes recognised by us as correct, that the severest judgments of

the authors as to the low psychic activity of dreaming seem to us well

founded.

Perhaps only through still further advance can enlightenment and

improvement be brought about. I shall pick out one of the constellations

leading to the formation of dreams.

The Interpretation of Dreams · 第 42 / 50 段