#Sandor Ferenczi

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Object Relations: Melanie Klein Pt. 1

She was an iconoclast who straddled the line between orthodox Freudianism while at the same time adding many new elements from her experience in child psychology. Like most other theorists, she used her own psyche and her environment for material for her theories and analytical practice. Her life was full of struggle and triumph, full of allies and enemies, including within her own family. This is a story of a woman who had to push through towards recognition starting from childhood all the way through her life. This is the story of Melanie Klein.

Forbidden Wishes

Melanie Klein was born in 1882 soon after her family had arrived in Vienna. Typical of most families Melanie was in an environment of siblings where a lot of early attachments were made, as well as defenses put up. Like other psychoanalysts, autobiographical material would factor into her theories and insights, which are mostly found in her writings collection. British Psychoanalyst Roger Money-Kyrle said "it is worth noting that, like Freud himself and many others, she practised self-analysis, so the works she published were almost certainly the result of analytic observations made both on her patients and on herself, cross-checked against each other." Phyllis Grosskurth, in Melanie Klein: Her World and Her Work, was able to put together information that originally was to be Melanie's autobiography, to flesh out some the bones in Melanie's story.

Melanie's interactions with siblings and her parents was a mixed bag, like it is with most families, and there were lasting impressions. She was born into a Jewish family that was secular. Her father Moriz Reizes was on his second marriage with Libbusa Deutsch. No reason survived in the documents as to why he divorced his first wife. It was an unsuccessful marriage that was soon dissolved when he was 37. On a trip to Vienna he met Libbusa, who was from Warbotz Slovakia. Her name is after the mythical founder of Prague. "He immediately fell in love with this 'educated, witty, and interesting' young woman, with her fair complexion, fine features, and expressive eyes." In Melanie's view, Libbusa's family was the side of the family that was the most intellectual and tolerant. Libbusa herself spoke with the air of being a down-to-earth mother grounded with the day to day life of taking care of the household while the husband had to find work where he could in his midlife. "They could not have been so naïve as to harbor any expectation that a middle-aged Jewish doctor of Polish origin could achieve professional success. Dr. Reizes was forced to take on a dental practice (indeed, he seems at first to have been a dentist’s assistant) and to supplement his income by acting as medical consultant to a vaudeville theater...Their difficult financial circumstances made it necessary for Libussa to open a shop—not only in itself a humiliation for a doctor’s wife, but also personally distasteful because in addition to plants she sold reptiles, from which she cringed in horror. Melanie does not speculate on her mother’s choice of a somewhat bizarre type of shop, but notes that such was the power of her mother’s beauty that customers loved to drop in to chat with her. She adds that Libussa’s customers 'understood' that she was a 'lady,' not a common shopkeeper—a rather curious disclaimer for her to feel obliged to make. One of Melanie’s earliest memories was of being taken to visit this place into which her mother disappeared every day. The shop was an integral part of their lives until 1907, when Libussa was finally relieved of this burden." Melanie's Uncle Hermann was of great help and lent money to the family to eventually acquire a house.

Melanie went to school with many other students of a different age than hers, but she was very happy nonetheless and caught the family bug for acquiring knowledge and earned good marks on her report card. Her mother "Libussa and her two sisters were consumed with a passion for learning, and these determined young autodidacts gained knowledge by reading and discussions with their father. Melanie admired the way her mother had taught herself to play the piano. She had a vivid recollection of Libussa pacing up and down the wide veranda of a summer flat they rented in Dornbach, on the outskirts of Vienna, totally absorbed in a book of French idioms she was memorizing. For Klein this was a demonstration of intellectual passion, since opportunities for her mother to put these idioms to practical use were almost nonexistent. There is evidence that as a young woman Libussa did have some respect for learning: she was attracted to her future husband partly because of his command of ten languages. Other relatives recalled Karoline as the clever sister, while Libussa was known as the beauty of the family. In any event, Libussa’s later letters are written in a German that indicates the language did not come easily to her...Certainly Melanie often detected dissatisfaction in her mother—and possibly contempt. 'I have never been able to get to the bottom of this, whether she was simply not passionate or not passionate as far as my father was concerned, but I do believe that occasionally I saw a slight aversion against sexual passion in her, which might have been the expression of her own feeling or upbringing, etc'...Klein could never recall an occasion when her parents went out alone together. She evokes a united Jewish family; while not rigidly orthodox, Melanie’s childhood was steeped in Jewish ceremonial, and she was always deeply aware of her Hebraic background. Both parents maintained a strong feeling for the Jewish people, 'though,' she remarks cryptically, 'I am fully aware of their faults and shortcomings.' She would never have been able to live in Israel, she asserts. At one point her mother tried to keep a kosher household but soon abandoned the attempt, particularly as she was opposed by her strong-minded children. Klein describes the circle in which they grew up in Vienna as 'anti-Orthodox.' Some Jewish observances were made but Klein felt there was no piety behind them." She was clued into this when her mother talked admiringly of a dying student with tuberculosis in her hometown who towards the end didn't believe in any god. She may have loved him. "While always feeling 'Jewish,' [Melanie] was never a Zionist, and her way of life was in no way distinguishable from that of a Gentile. Yet as a Jewish child in Catholic Vienna she must have been acutely conscious that she was an outsider and a member of an often persecuted minority. Psychoanalysis became for many Jews a religion with its own rites, secrets, and demands of unswerving loyalty. Melanie Klein, when she eventually discovered psychoanalysis, embraced it as ardently as any convert to the Catholic Church."

At times she was teased by her brother Emanuel in her early days, but they became closer as they grew up. Her older sister Sidonie with "violet-blue eyes, her black curls, and her angelic face" took pity and helped Melanie with reading and arithmetic early on. Unfortunately she died young from Scrofula. "I have a feeling that I never entirely got over the feeling of grief for her death." Emanuel was aggressive and rebellious because he was told he had heart problems and would die young because of his past scarlet and rheumatic fevers. He helped Melanie with her with Latin and Greek so she could enter an advanced secondary school and expected her to achieve great success. Melanie felt indebted to him and thought he would achieve much in his life if he had better health. "From a very early age I heard the most beautiful piano-playing, because he was deeply musical, and I have seen him sitting at the piano and just composing what came into his mind. He was a self-willed and rebellious child and, I think, not sufficiently understood. He seemed at loggerheads with his teachers at the gymnasium, or contemptuous of them, and there were many controversial talks with my father...My brother was deeply fond of my mother, but gave her a good deal of anxiety."

Melanie Klein Trust: https://melanie-klein-trust.org.uk/timeline/1882-1902/

Melanie's father was an influence, even if at times he was aloof with her. "As a child, Melanie loved hearing about her father’s courage during a cholera epidemic. In answer to an appeal for doctors to go out to the Polish villages, he not only went but, unlike the other doctors who would stand at the windows telling the victims what to do, Moriz Reizes boldly entered the cottages and treated the patients as he would have done if they had been suffering from any other complaint. When he returned, he found a letter from his mother imploring him not to risk his life. Whether this act of heroism actually happened or not is immaterial; Klein believed that it had." Although there were some disappointments when he refused her attention, and when he made clear her sister Emile his favorite. "'I don’t think I sufficiently understood my father, because he had aged so much by this time'...He was an 'old fifty' when she was born. 'I have no memories of his ever playing with me.'" Melanie and Emilie would continue to have a love-hate relationship until the end. Emilie's dreary life compared to her sister's eventual success led to some letters having an "I'm not jealous, but I am" quality to them. "Emilie, too, seems to have been caught up in the family pattern of guilt-inducement. If one of them had good fortune, the other had to pay for it." In one letter, after Melanie published a book, Emile confessed that "even if I have been unapproachable at times, that in secret I have always appreciated and admired your strong will!...[Melanie] had to assert herself in view of the fact that her mother told her that she had been unwanted, Sidonie was the best-looking in the family, her father openly expressed his preference for Emilie, and Emanuel was considered something of a genius..."

As destiny was predicted, Emanuel died young at 25 of heart failure, ending his ambitions of artistic grandeur. He also suffered from tuberculosis and may have used morphine and cocaine to manage the pain. "Emanuel convinced himself that his main motive for abandoning his medical studies and leaving Vienna was his certainty that he was doomed to an early death; he intended to live life to the full in the time left to him. His mother shared his view that the climate of Vienna was detrimental to his health, and she settled a small allowance on him to enable him to seek lands of sun and beauty in the traditional pattern of the dying artist. It was in this role that Emanuel saw himself, and he dramatized the situation to the full. His letters for the next couple of years are full of complaints about the meagerness of his allowance." As he travelled in Italy he exchanged letters with family members and complained of the "out of sight, out of mind" neglect he was feeling. He laid down in a hotel in Genoa one night and died. The hotelkeeper was curt and demanded expenses to be taken care of, considering the cleanup job needed for tuberculosis and superstitions future guests may have. His wife was more empathetic. "Perhaps it will console you a little to hear that your son passed away completely without pain. He was lying in his bed as if he were asleep, death throes can absolutely not have occurred; he had not even stretched himself. He was lying on one side, the eyes closed, the right hand near the face, the left one under the blanket, exactly as one does when one makes oneself comfortable in bed to go to sleep. Had he not been cold and stiff, one would never have believed that anybody could look so peaceful in death. The authorities sent two more doctors round, but all three were agreed that heart failure had brought his life to an end."

Despite struggling to enter the Gymnasium, when Melanie passed the entrance examinations, she had strong motivation. "Not only did she intend to study medicine, she asserted, but she planned to specialize in psychiatry—an extraordinary ambition for a middle-class Jewish girl when one thinks of the vicissitudes Freud was encountering in his profession at that very time in Vienna. About this time, Moriz Reizes’ health began to deterioriate rapidly, and the household was held together by the indomitable Libussa. Melanie seldom had a new dress; the theater or a concert was a rare event; but she felt gloriously alive, infused with that deepest of all the passions, intellectual fervor. Unknown to her mother, she read far into the night—an indication that her mother did not encourage her intellectual interests. Her homework she did on the tram between home and school. Her brother proudly introduced her to his friends, and Melanie blossomed into a vibrant young woman...Family circumstances may have been extremely stringent, but somehow enough money was found for a number of photographs of Melanie to have been taken during this period. She is a voluptuous dark beauty with heavy-lidded eyes, and already fully aware of her striking profile. She was aware, too, of her desirability, as all her brother’s friends seemed to be falling in love with her. When she was only seventeen she met her future husband (then twenty-one), a second cousin on her mother’s side, who was visiting Vienna from his home in what was then the Slovak part of Hungary." Despite her ambitions, Melanie settled quickly on Arthur Klein. She said that at the time she had a "passionate temperament" and "it did not take very long for me to fall in love with him...From that time I was so loyal that I refrained from any entertainment where I might have met other young men and never expressed a feeling that I already had in my mind, that we were not really suited to one another. Both loyalty to my fiancé, with whom I was up to a point in love, and circumstances, prevented me from mentioning this to my mother or my brother." By this time her father Moriz had already passed away of pneumonia and Alzheimer's. Not very much time later both Emilie, who married a lawyer, and Melanie were married with children. Libussa maintained the household and visited both families and helped them get settled, to the envy of Emanuel, who felt abandoned and forgotten towards the end of his life.

Melanie was now in the marriage, even though she knew it was a mistake, probably because she hadn't forgotten her prior professional ambitions. Her situation matched what Helene Deutsch felt about women who went into depression when family and children interfered with career ambitions and hobbies. Both sisters had trouble getting used to motherhood and the painstaking household chores. As household cleaning technologies and methods were developed, standards for cleanliness also increased, so chores became an area that women traditionally fought over. Either the extravagances were too expensive in order to keep up with the Joneses, so to say, or daughters and mothers couldn't agree on the correct or appropriate décor and fought over the details. This could also include servants and fighting with them if they couldn't meet expectations. Fights over parenting styles would be common between parents and spouses. Melanie at this time also fell into many depressions as she continued to have more children. In many cases, she had to escape to other towns and visit friends and family to deal with what her mother called "her nerves...Photographs taken of Klein during this period reveal the paralyzing depression in which she was entrapped. In her Autobiography she describes Arthur as 'difficult.' [He was also suffering from nerve pain, commonly called Neuralgia.] There is hardly a letter from Libussa during this period that does not refer to his 'nerves,' insomnia, and stomach complaints. Often he was too tired, too overworked, or too miserable to write to his wife, and Libussa conveyed messages from one to the other...Late in 1907 Arthur accepted a well-paid job as director of one of Count Henkel-Donnersmarck’s paper mills in upper Silesia. As a result, they had to move to Krappitz, a small, dreary provincial town without a single congenial soul with whom Melanie could converse. Even Rosenberg had seemed unbearably confining...upon her marriage in 1906. At this point Libussa, with little reluctance, was persuaded to come and stay with them. She was only too happy to do so because Arthur was now in a position to pay off Uncle Hermann for his investment in the house, and Libussa could finally give up the shop, which she rented out to a coffeehouse."

Object Relations: Helene Deutsch Pt. 1: https://rumble.com/v2wrvg5-object-relations-helene-deutsch-pt.-1.html

Object Relations: Helene Deutsch Pt. 2: https://rumble.com/v2yepky-object-relations-helene-deutsch-pt.-2.html

Libussa ended up being an interfering grandmother who micromanaged the household, despite being idealized in Melanie's later descriptions of her. "In the two and a half years they lived in Krappitz, Melanie seems to have been away almost as much as she was at home," especially in Abbazia where she underwent "carbonic acid baths and other current remedies for nerves." In one trip she was accompanied by a divorcee Klara Vágó who became a friend. "Every piece of advice [Libussa] gave her reinforced Melanie’s view of herself as a permanent semi-invalid" and she kept the unhappy husband and wife separated for the children's sake. "Libussa closed her eyes to the possibility that these separations were undermining the marriage. Everything had to accord with her conception of a conflict-free family situation...Arthur had to take frequent business trips and had plenty of opportunities for illicit amours if so inclined—and he might have been so inclined, considering that his wife was separated from him for weeks at a time and found sex distasteful even at the best of times. It is doubtful that we will ever know the truth about the marriage."

Even when Melanie returned home she still did not get over her depression. "She was becoming more entrapped than ever in her depressions, especially when her mother was visiting her. By May 1909 her fits of weeping and despair had reached such a point that she went to a sanatorium in Chur, Switzerland, for two and a half months in order to have a complete rest and change of scene...Melanie dreaded pregnancy..." Arthur at this time took the chance to leave the small town and move to Budapest. At this time Melanie's friend Klara was helping her be more assertive with her mother to take back the household and provided a role-model for emancipation. In her 30s she was pregnant again and had Erich, but everyone, including Libussa, were much older now. Libussa fell ill with cancer which was what was thought at the time due to her rapid weight loss. She contracted bronchitis and eventually passed away.

After her mother's death, Melanie wrote some minor works, including poetry and complete narratives. "Both poetry and prose are variations on a single theme: the longing of a woman for a richer and fuller life, particularly for sexual gratification, and the conflict that is stirred up by these forbidden wishes." Her wide reading eventually got her to Freud's works. "'About 1914' she read Freud’s 1901 paper on dreams, and realized immediately that 'that was what I was aiming at, at least during those years when I was so very keen to find what would satisfy me intellectually and emotionally. I entered into analysis with Ferenczi, who was the most outstanding Hungarian analyst.'" When she was with psychoanalyst Sándor Ferenczi, she became interested in learning how to practice psychoanalysis. He ended up influencing her later work in three areas: "the importance of raw and early emotion in the maternal bond, the importance of freedom and authenticity in the analytic relationship, and finally the use of transference and countertransference feelings." "During this analysis with Ferenczi, he drew my attention to my great gift for understanding children and my interest in them, and he very much encouraged my idea of devoting myself to analysis, particularly child-analysis. I had, of course, three children of my own at the time...I had not found…that education…could cover the whole understanding of the personality and therefore have the influence one might wish it to have. I had always the feeling that behind was something with which I could not come to grips."

Dreams - Sigmund Freud: https://rumble.com/v1gtf6j-dreams-sigmund-freud.html

Klein eventually became an assistant to Ferenczi and began observing her children. "Melitta and Hans had been brought up largely under the supervision of Libussa; but once Klein discovered psychoanalysis, [her son] Erich was subjected to the most intense scrutiny from at least the age of three. There is no reference to his infancy, a curious omission in view of her later theories." When her husband moved to Sweden to work and Melanie went back to Rosenberg, Slovakia, the separation led eventually to an official divorce. She eventually moved to Berlin and began a psychoanalysis practice. Melanie was very ambitious and began to publish because this was one of the ways to increase recognition and allow the possibility of freer travel in the future. It also explained the haste she felt to begin analyzing her children before taking on more analysands.

By the time she joined the The Hague Congress, she was in a very competitive attitude, and as expected professional territory was jealously guarded. She "met Hermine Hug-Hellmuth, who had already started analyzing children in Vienna by watching them at play...Klein tried to engage her in discussion, but was given a very cool reception. She later attributed this to Hug-Hellmuth’s view of her as a competitive threat, and any references Klein made to her tended to be extremely condescending." Klein already made her judgement. "Dr. Hug-Hellmuth was doing child analysis at this time in Vienna, but in a very restricted way. She completely avoided interpretations, though she used some play material and drawings, and I could never get an impression of what she was actually doing, nor was she analysing children under six or seven years. I do not think it too conceited to say that I introduced into Berlin the beginnings of child analysis."

Klein was now in a situation where she could attempt to find her place in psychoanalysis, but this is often when rivalry is at it's most intense, when a new system is discovered but it has yet to be exhausted, and there's a gold rush to stake an important claim, as can be seen by the explosion of new talent over the 20th century. "There was intense envy and rivalry among these early psychoanalytic pioneers...Klein’s career belonged in the category of those whose 'creative capacity may begin to show and express itself for the first time.'" Different analysts took a stand on whether child analysis was too dangerous. "Her creative potential, stifled for so many years, was finally unleashed, but she had to fight opposition every step of the way. For the historical record Klein claimed that once she arrived in Berlin, she soon widened her practice, but the fact of the matter is that she aroused misgivings among some of her colleagues. There was unease about the advisability of probing too deeply into a child’s unconscious...Apart from the consideration shown her by Abraham, she was always bitter about the way she was treated by the Berlin Society. Gradually some of her colleagues allowed her to analyze their children in what were known as 'prophylactic analyses.' In later life she complained that the only patients sent to her were children and the deeply disturbed relatives or patients of other analysts. Yet if it had not been for this, she might never have had the opportunity for intense observation of children." Regardless, she was right away aiming at changing parenting practices and cultural influences in schools so children could hopefully live a more liberated life and find their authenticity.

Repression

In The Development of a Child (1921), Melanie was very blunt and appeared to be on a mission to wipe out superstition and poor parenting practices, and in a way, abolish a form of parental abuse related to sexual shaming and ignorance. "The idea of enlightening children in sexual matters is steadily gaining ground. The instruction introduced in many places by the schools aims at protecting children during the age of puberty from the increasing dangers of ignorance, and it is from this point of view that the idea has won most sympathy and support...This ensures that wishes, thoughts and feelings shall not—as happened to us—be partly repressed and partly, in so far as repression fails, endured under a burden of false shame and nervous suffering." In her paper, she believed that developmentally appropriate sexual education allows children to build "...foundations for health and mental balance." Even though she renamed her son Erich to "Fritz," in her analysis of her son, the flimsy disguise was enough to fool many Kleinians. "The child in question is a boy, little Fritz, the son of relations who live in my immediate neighbourhood. This gave me the opportunity to be often in the child's company without any restraint. Further, as his mother follows all my recommendations I am able to exercise a far-reaching influence on the child's upbringing." When questioned with the evidence "one [Kleinian] said that she had always had the impression that 'the mother' in the background left something to be desired. Another said that he didn’t know what name to apply to this kind of analysis, but it had nothing to do with mothering. A third confessed rather poignantly that the revelation would make him reexamine the work he had been doing for thirty years since he now saw in a new light why Melanie Klein had underestimated the role of the mother. Many analysts had heard for years a rumor that she had analyzed her own children, but they had not linked this with actual case histories she had recorded. Elliott Jaques seems to take a sensible view: the exploration of the roots of anxiety could have been conducted initially in the only way open to her, and it is hindsight that queries its value. Pearl King (not a Kleinian) feels that it could have established 'a pathological transference'; but adds, 'to be fair, everyone was doing it at that time.'"

Klein proceeded to explain to young Erich the truth about Easter and Christmas activities and the agnostic worldview. She described a rudimentary explanation for copulation for humans and animals. The child's fantasies and games started turning more violent afterwards. "His games as well as his phantasies showed an extraordinary aggressiveness towards his father and also of course his already clearly indicated passion for his mother...Fritz listened with great interest and said, 'I would so much like to see how a child is made inside like that.' I explain that this is impossible until he is big because it can't be done till then but that then he will do it himself: 'But then I would like to do it to mamma.' 'That can't be, mamma can't be your wife for she is the wife of your papa, and then papa would have no wife.' 'But we could both do it to her.' I say, 'No, that can't be. Every man has only one wife. When you are big your mamma will be old. Then you will marry a beautiful young girl and she will be your wife.' He (nearly in tears and with quivering lips), 'But shan't we live in the same house together with mamma?' 'Certainly, and your mamma will always love you but she can't be your wife.' He then enquired about various details, how the child is 'fed in the maternal body, what the cord is made of how it comes away, he was full of interest and no further resistance was to be noticed. At the end he said, 'But I would just once like to see how the child gets in and out.'"

Melanie felt that this sample of one was already showing a therapeutic response compared to how other children were raised. "I am of the opinion that no upbringing should be without analytic help, because analysis affords such valuable and, from the point of view of prophylaxis, as yet incalculable assistance." The deficits for children she concluded were of a wide variety, including, being anti-social, aloof, apathy, lost self-confidence, and diffidence. "What early analysis can do is to afford protection from severe shocks and to overcome inhibitions. This will assist not only the health of the individual but culture as well, in that the overcoming of inhibitions will open up fresh possibilities of development. In the boy I watched it was striking how greatly his general interest was stimulated subsequent to the satisfying of a part of his unconscious questions, and how greatly his impulse for investigation flagged again because further unconscious questions had arisen and drawn his whole interest upon themselves. It is evident, therefore, that, to go more into detail, the effectiveness of wishes and instinctive impulses can only be weakened by becoming conscious. I can, however, state from my own observations that, just as in the case of the adult, so also with the young child this occurs without any danger...It is easier to control an emotion that is becoming conscious than one that is unconscious. Simultaneously with acknowledging his incest-wishes, however, he is already making attempts to free himself from this passion and to achieve its transference to suitable objects."

For researchers, this was before the later techniques that Melanie developed with play, but she was already seeing that unconscious questions, with realistic, concrete answers, allowed for better actions afterwards for the analysand. "Eric Klein remembers that when they went to Rosenberg in 1919, his mother set aside an hour every night before he went to sleep to analyze him and that she continued to do this after they moved to Berlin in 1920. He remarks dryly that he did not find the experience pleasurable, but he holds no grudge against her for it...It could be argued that Klein was more therapist than mother to Erich. He has no recollection of her playing with him, but she did hug him." In Analyst of the Imagination, Paul Roazen said of Melanie's daughter, "Melitta Schmideberg, would be at the extreme end of the spectrum of those who relished hatred of their mothers but, alas, not alone in her bitterness towards analytic parenting." Melitta did collaborate very closely with Melanie, had many great insights into psychoanalysis, but was clearly asserting her independence and wanting to move into different modalities to distinguish herself from her mother and get out from under her wing.

Even at the time of the paper, Klein did give herself an out because she found that anxiety wasn't only caused by complexes and that different children could face the same situations and react with more or less sensitivity. "For we learn from the analysis of neurotics that only a part of the injuries resulting from repression can be traced to wrong environmental or other prejudicial external conditions. Another and very important part is due to an attitude on the part of the child, present from the very tenderest years. The child frequently develops, on the basis of the repression of a strong sexual curiosity, an unconquerable disinclination to everything sexual that only a thorough analysis can later overcome. It is not always possible to discover from the analyses of adults—especially in a reconstruction—in how far the irksome conditions, in how far the neurotic predisposition, is responsible for the development of the neurosis. In this matter variable, indeterminate quantities are being dealt with. So much, however, is certain: that in strongly neurotic dispositions quite slight rebuffs from the environment often suffice to determine a marked resistance to all sexual enlightenment and a repression excessively burdensome to the mental constitution in general." This also appears in the school environment, especially during puberty when a boy for example is "bombarded by his sexuality, he feels himself at the mercy of wishes and desires which he cannot and may not satisfy." This may lead to a lack of zeal in school work, lack of ambition, and in extreme cases there may be criminality or suicide. "Expertly and correctly conducted, psycho-analysis holds no more danger for children than for adults; much 'successful work' with children convinces me of this. The widely-felt anxiety that analysis diminishes children's spontaneity is disproved in practice. Many children have had their liveliness fully restored by analysis after losing it in the welter of their conflicts. Even very early analysis does not turn children into uncultured and asocial beings. The' reverse is true; freed from inhibitions, they are now able to make full use of emotional and intellectual resources for cultural and social purposes, in the service of their development."

At this time Melanie was recording in her autobiography different stories as to when there was a divorce and it was obvious that she wanted out. "In 1919 Arthur Klein went to live and work in Sweden, and [Melanie] moved back from Budapest to Rosenberg with the children. Hungary was in turmoil; and she could see her own future only in negative terms: as she describes it, there seemed no possibility that she and Arthur could ever get together again." There was eventually a reunification of the family in Dahlem, but Arthur's attempts to regain control of the family led to him bullying Hans. "In addition to Arthur’s renewed tyranny, both his 'emotional attachment' in Sweden and her new career were incentives to attain the independence she had always half-consciously been seeking. She soon realized that a permanent separation was imperative. Yet to walk out on her husband was financially hazardous, and she risked losing custody of Erich. There were ugly quarrels. One day Erich saw a document lying on his father’s desk and could not resist reading it. It appeared that Arthur was going to seek to obtain custody of the boy on the grounds that his mother had used him as a guinea pig for her psychoanalytic experiments. When Erich told his mother about this, she said that Arthur had deliberately put the paper on the table where he knew Erich would see it." Melitta defended her mother against her father, but both mother and daughter were beginning to show envy and jealousy. Melanie was worried that her daughter who was able to pursue her studies earlier than she, was now in a position to surpass her before she could make her mark on history. They eventually collaborated and were able to produce good work together, but Melitta would later on introduce insightful critiques on the limits of psychoanalysis and poke fun at the snobbery, foolishness, and scandals in the psychoanalytical communities, as well as patients who expected a panacea from the method, and eventually found a better fit when she moved more into studying juvenile delinquency. She also entered into analysis with Edward Glover for a time who was mourning the disconnection between the British school and Freud's Orthodoxy. In The War Inside, Michal Shapira said that "initially, Melitta made frequent use of her mother’s ideas. Later, and as she went to analysis with Glover, her criticism of Klein grew. She withdrew from active participation in the BPAS in 1944." Later psychoanalysts viewed Melitta's and Edward's complaints as a form of stuffiness. In reality there was always a new kind of stuffiness replacing an older kind. All therapists tend to react to positive results in their patients as confirmation of efficacy of one method or another and each positive experience would lead therapists to pick their favorite modality, either orthodox, British, or American. Despite the hair splitting, Klein continued her work with children and studied the effects of the Oedipus Complex.

School Castration

Despite all these fearful Freudian terms and symbols, the best way to read and enjoy psychoanalytic descriptions is to understand the underlying viewpoint, which is Darwinian, and therefore it is about territory, power, control, and procreation. Libido is energetic craving, and we have many cravings that aren't overtly sexual. You can crave sunlight if you are indoors for too long, for example. The cravings want to feed physically with food, but there is sexual feeding and emotional feeding of all kinds. The mistake is to take things too literally and think everything is about overt sexuality, when it's more teleological. The child could feel "castrated" at school for example, but is not actually castrated, but instead is humiliated by the teacher in class when providing a stupid answer that is ridiculous and funny. The purpose of school is to have success in the workplace. Success in the workplace makes you more attractive as a provider and you will have more sexual partners to choose from as you gain more wealth, fame, and notoriety. It all connects to sex in that way, so there are many degrees of separation, but these innocuous activities can be the supports that are required before one becomes attractive, if ever. Being castrated is like being turned off, demoralized, like how you would feel when you are sternly rejected on a date or you were dumped after a long attachment or you went through a divorce. You're not likely to be in the mood for some time, whereas someone who achieved success and wants to celebrate, they will more likely be looking for a sexual partner because of their newfound confidence. If a person finds sexual partners an imposition to personal fulfillment in work or hobbies, many will put their love into work, artistic projects or leisure activities.

In The Role of the School in the Libidinal Development of the Child, Melanie pointed out that "...fear of examinations in dreams as in reality, is the fear of castration...[for students]." Boys and girls are afraid of being made fun of and they sometimes have fears related to how masculine or feminine they should appear. Just like adults, the kids can make associations and metaphors out of anything so dreams, daydreaming, and doodling will likely connect with other areas of their life where they are measuring how well they are doing at school, socializing, and with relationships at home. With kids, analyses with Klein showed a lot of Oedipus material, death wishes for parents, fornication with parents, along with jokes about private parts, toilet jokes and early birthing theories. Having trouble completing difficult school tasks is a feeling of impotence, whereas success leads to feelings of potency. "I have endeavoured to show that the fundamental activities exercised at schools are channels for the flow of libido and that by this means the component instincts achieve sublimation under the supremacy of the genitals. This libidinal [emotional investment], however, is carried over from the most elementary studies—reading, writing and arithmetic—to wider efforts and interests based upon these, so that the foundations of later inhibitions—of vocational inhibition as well—are to be found; above all, in the frequently apparently evanescent ones concerned with the earliest studies. The inhibitions of these earliest studies, however, are built upon play-inhibitions, so that in the end—we can see all the later inhibitions, so significant for life and development, evolving from the earliest play-inhibitions." So not being able to play at a rudimentary level for a particular field, like math, or history, means an unsuccessful sublimation of libido. For Klein, it goes back to fear of humiliation. "Castration-fear interferes with ego-activities and interests because, besides other libidinal determinants, they always have fundamentally a genital symbolic, that is to say, a coitus significance...We must refer the establishment of all the inhibitions which affect learning and all further development to the time of the first efflorescence of infantile sexuality which, with the onset of the Oedipus complex, gives its greatest momentum to the castration-fear, that is, to the early period between three and four years of age. It is the consequent repression of the active masculine components in both boys and girls that provides the chief basis for inhibitions of learning...The contribution which the feminine component makes to sublimation will probably always prove to be receptivity and understanding, which are an important part of all activities; the driving executive part, however, which really constitutes the character of any activity, originates in the sublimation of masculine potency." Here we can see a development from Ferenczi, who separated masculine and feminine energies into different tasks and interests, whereas Klein saw that most activities could be done with a mixture and both boys and girls could use femininity or masculinity without it appearing pathological.

Aphex Twin - Come To Daddy (Director's Cut): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TZ827lkktYs

Case Studies: 'Little Hans' - Sigmund Freud: https://rumble.com/v1gu93b-case-studies-little-hans-sigmund-freud.html

Sexuality Pt 2: Infantile Sexuality - Sigmund Freud: https://rumble.com/v1gtort-sexuality-pt-2-infantile-sexuality-sigmund-freud.html

Totem and Taboo - Sigmund Freud: https://rumble.com/v1gsmvn-totem-and-taboo-sigmund-freud.html

Melanie followed the typical Freudian view that creativity is essentially feminine and that both sexes needed to free up that libido as well as the masculine. "I was able repeatedly in analyses of boys and girls to see how important the repression of this feminine attitude through the castration complex might be. As an essential part of every activity, repression of it must contribute largely to the inhibition of any activity. It has also been possible to observe in analysing patients of both sexes how, as a part of the castration complex became conscious and the feminine attitude appeared more freely, there often occurred a powerful onset of artistic and other interests...Part of the inhibitions—and this is the more important for later development—resulting from the repression of genital activity directly affects ego activity and interest as such. Another part of the inhibitions results from the attitude to the teacher." For example, a male teacher could receive transference attitudes from a boy about his father, and since success is connected with sex with the mother figure in the Oedipus Complex, then the fear of fatherly retribution may appear as inhibition to perform well in front of the male teacher. "In girls the inhibition due to the castration complex and affecting all activity is of particular importance. The relationship to a male teacher that can be so burdensome to the boy acts on the girl, if her capabilities are not too inhibited, rather as an incentive. In her relationship to the mistress the anxiety attitude originating in the Oedipus complex is, in general, not nearly so powerful as is its analogue in the boy. That her achievements in life do not usually attain to those of the man is due to the fact that in general she has less masculine activity to employ in sublimation...The teacher can achieve much by sympathetic understanding, for he is able thereby considerably to reduce that part of the inhibition that attaches to the person of the teacher as 'avenger'. At the same time, the wise and kindly teacher offers the homosexual component in the boy and the masculine component of the girl an object for the exercise of their genital activity in a sublimated form, as which, as I suggested, we can recognize the various studies." As much as the teacher can reward both masculine and feminine energies, the children are bringing their complexes to school and would benefit from therapy in the view of Klein. "Where, however, repression of genital activity has affected the occupations and interests themselves, the attitude of the teacher can probably diminish (or intensify) the child's inner conflict, but will not affect anything essential as concerns his attainments. But even the possibility of a good teacher easing the conflict is a very slight one, for limits are set by the child's complex-formations, particularly by his relationship to his father, which determines beforehand his attitude towards school and teacher."

Developing The Self

The opportunities available in childhood to carve out skills, talents, and budding vocations, is a precious time because of how far reaching the impacts are in later life. This especially will echo in many later psychoanalysts when talking about the topic of authenticity. Certainly there can be economic disadvantages during this period and they limit what a child can develop, but finances don't guarantee authenticity if play, trial and error, and discovery is repressed. "We frequently find in psycho-analysis that neurotic inhibitions of talents are determined by repression having overtaken the libidinal ideas associated with these particular activities, and thus at the same time the activities themselves." For Klein, these inhibitions appeared in very typical demotivated states that children often present. "The following characteristics proved in a number of cases and in a typical way to be inhibitions: awkwardness in games and athletics and distaste for them, little or no pleasure in lessons, lack of interest in one particular subject, or, in general, the varying degrees of so-called laziness; very often, too, capacities or interests which were feebler than the ordinary turned out to be 'inhibited'".

You get the sense from psychoanalytic literature that scoring in soccer is like scoring in bed. The symbolism can be made to be overt by making it conscious and then using the lust and love feelings to fuel a sublimated task and derive proximate satisfaction. Even if people have to bring up lustful imagery in their minds transfer it into boring activities, there's a hinted practice in these texts that assume we should have already known this from the beginning in childhood play. Having "libidinal cathexis" is to have an emotional investment in a particular activity, like a sport, meaning simply that you like the sport. There's been so much inhibition throughout childhood, and not all of it is bad in the case of criminal activity, but if someone meditates, takes drugs or alcohol, or even engages in free association practices, which are a little like meditation, when inhibition is released momentarily a zeal can return in an anticipation of engaging in an activity, and possibly other activities that have been repressed. "I came to see that in far the greater number of these inhibitions, whether they were recognizable as such or not, the work of reversing the mechanism was accomplished by way of anxiety, and in particular by the 'dread of castration'; only when this anxiety was resolved was it possible to make any progress in removing the inhibition...By successful removal I do not simply mean that the inhibitions as such should be diminished or removed, but that the analysis should succeed in reinstating the primary pleasure of the activity." A success would then be that a person can see the enjoyment of the repressed activity and it can be engaged in again with appropriateness according to skill. Maybe a person will enjoy watching soccer if they have no facility to play it well enough to enjoy.

Just like with substances that relieve inhibitions, the zeal doesn't always arise first. There are "transitory symptoms" connected to the Castration Complex, where anger and hostility arise. Analysands begin to re-live the people and environments of the past where the intimidation occurred. "These again were principally resolved by way of anxiety. The fact that the removing of these inhibitions and symptoms takes place by way of anxiety surely shows that anxiety is their source." She quoted Franz Alexander who valued the emotional catharsis, or abreaction in the psychoanalytical experience. People needed to express their emotions by reliving the experience, understanding intellectually the impact of the castration and feel the emotions related, as if they were happening during the analysis. "Most of the suggested innovations in psychoanalytic technique involve a one-sided overemphasis on one or the other of two factors, both of which are essential for the curative effect of psychoanalytic therapy. These factors are emotional abreaction and intellectual insight. Emotional abreaction leads only to temporary symptomatic relief (as in the early hysteria analyses of Freud). On the other hand, intellectual insight without emotional experience is of little value. Every correct interpretation, 'serves both purposes,' integrating abreaction and insight into a single act." If at this point an analysand expresses the emotion fully of the castrating incident and discharges through venting, then the intellectual insight would focus on the activity more based on skill rather than just a hatred of the activity. The activity loses its sense of evil and looks more a matter of fact. All activities have easier and more complex parts to them. When in hatred only the complex parts are noticed. In a neutral view, or a positive view, there are easier elements to the skill that begin to show themselves as opportunities for growth.

Regardless of the method, skills will still have to be developed afterwards if the patient has a reason to take up the activity. There's also no guarantee that there won't be more authority figures providing fresh castration that an apprentice has to learn to ignore and focus instead with a learning mentality. The intellectual insight needs to catch authority figures in their jealousy, and to understand that they are afraid of being replaced. In many technical and professional jobs, knowledge that can't be found in books is jealously guarded and castration will be the norm until an authority figure is to move onto better opportunities and has to train an apprentice. At that point, the envy of students and candidates will be expressed as they wonder why they weren't chosen to be trained further. Certainly, the understudy that shows the most promise is sometimes taken on because they are viewed to be unstoppable and capable of changing organizations, make new professional connections, and compete directly with the master. The master then wants to control the trajectory of the prodigy, and also they want to bask in their future success. In other cases, there is nepotism, cronyism, and various other forms of bigotry, because the master wants to make a political statement and reward an inner circle and gain a future ally, if there are to be synergies in their professional work. As many students will attest, the psychology profession is full of patients at various levels of pathology so the envy tends to be directed against healthier psychologists with endless attempts at castration, because the envious feel the pain that they may never be cured completely, and those who are considered more pathetic are made fun of and castrated because they are seen as too incompetent to practice. Those who are more healthy have to decide if they want to join another profession that has a healthier culture, or walk the tightrope and network in the best places possible for development. Those who are more incompetent, and therefore in need of both therapy and training, they either leave the profession for something more appropriate, or they congregate around groups and leaders that require their fawning. Their pathologies, if not too severe, are sometimes considered a badge of honor and hopefully provide a secret knowledge and special empathy for patients that are one step behind them in therapy.

Whether you want to call it a "comfort zone" that protects against the anxiety of growth, or the Default Mode Network, "teleologically considered, the symptoms of illness serve the purpose of satisfying, in a relatively harmless manner, those wishes that are in conflict with the conscious ego, of localizing them to the symptoms, and thereby preventing them from injuring the rest of life...Driven by their instinctual tendencies perpetually to injure themselves in life, [analysands] do not fall ill of a neurosis simply because, by means of their apparently senseless self-injuries, they replace the symbolic overcompensations (self -punishments) of the obsessional neurotic by real ones, and in this way keep their oversensitive consciences clear." The consequences for Alexander in one case study was self-sabotage in a patient's failing business while not being able to earn as much money as he did before in the employment he got afterwards. Finding easier employment may reduce anxiety, but it can also be a regression. What I like about Alexander is how he connects libido to money. Even saving money can be a way of delaying cravings for later consumption. Investing is a way of giving people access to their cravings for either their business spending or current consumption. The saver is delaying gratification so they can earn investment income and have a greater consumption in the future. On the other hand, if things are really financially bad you can be too poor, castrated, and turned off to have intimate relationships and the mental health results are even worse if a patient can't find a suitable sublimation. If it gets to rock bottom, then any money that is received goes into an addiction that further prevents gainful employment and there is a possibility of a vicious cycle of homelessness. In less extremes, people find themselves in divorces and they have to downgrade their expectations and find genital relief with less desirable partners while earning a less desirable wage.

Two Days, One Night Official Trailer - Dr. Lorri Sulpizio: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tb3zBq6gVRk

For those who want to control their mind more, the way to transform libido, or cravings, into sublimation, is to have different cravings, just like how the sense of self is manipulated by advertisers. There's an "I" in the future that is savoring, and it's working when you can FEEL craving to do that particular activity. If the sublimation is strong, the activity is so interesting that you are not thinking about intimate relationships.

Object Relations: Fear Of Success Pt. 6: https://rumble.com/v3mc0jy-object-relations-fear-of-success-pt.-6.html

If you eventually get courageous and try to move out of the comfort zone you can feel out the blockage. "We know that anxiety is one of the primary affects. 'I have said that transformation into anxiety—it would be better to say discharge in the form of anxiety—is the immediate vicissitude of libido which is subjected to repression.' In thus reacting with anxiety the ego repeats the affect which at birth became the prototype—of all anxiety and employs it as 'the universally current coinage for which any affective impulse is or can be exchanged.' The discovery of how the ego tries in the different neuroses to shield itself from the development of anxiety led Freud to conclude that 'It would thus seem not to be wrong in an abstract sense to assert that in general, symptoms are only formed to escape an otherwise unavoidable generating of anxiety." Anxiety of course can go unconscious, when repression is successful. If it's not successful there is visible anxiety. When it's unconscious, it's ready and waiting to produce anxiety but the analysand is outside of the challenging environment and can find another activity that is accessible for sublimation. Then when the patient goes again closer to the repressing situation, anxiety begins to return, like how people behave in a phobia. Psychoanalysts also feel that some patients are better at sublimating than others, for example, some are more creative, have more interesting hobbies, and can maintain well-being. This may be due to a good enough upbringing so that there's enough of a self to play with the environment to prevent feeling always empty inside emotionally. "If we equate the capacity to employ superfluous libido [craving] in a cathexis [emotional investment] of ego-tendencies with the capacity to sublimate, we may probably assume that the person who remains healthy succeeds in doing so on account of his greater capacity for sublimating at a very early stage of his ego-development." This means that some who are not inhibited will be in a healthy intimate relationship, in a job they like, or are good at, and any variations outside of that will be progressively worse outcomes, but some of those outcomes will be healthy because the analysand has vigorous activities they engage in, but those who cannot get into an intimate relationship or sublimate with skill, they will have the worst outcome for loneliness and depression.

Intimidation has also an element of control because it can be used to dominate an environment. Transference from a passive target can then anticipate castrations and avoid adventurism towards libido satisfactions precisely to avoid any other people who radiate the same power to punish. For example, a parent could bully a child and then that child becomes a prime target for future bullies because they continuously send the signal of passivity. "We know that the Oedipus complex brings repression into play with quite peculiar force and at the same time liberates the dread of castration. We may probably also assume that this great 'wave' of anxiety 'is reinforced by anxiety already existing (possibly only as a potential disposition) in consequence of earlier repressions—this latter anxiety may have operated directly as castration-anxiety originating in the 'primal castrations.'"

These castrations can lead to inauthentic desires where what you would like to pursue anticipates punishment and the area of choices provided by society where there are no punishments become the limited choices where one finds replacement satisfactions. This can be good when dealing with criminality, but it becomes a dystopian tyrannical society when rewards are being stripped from the populace to coalesce around a predator. Eventually success, or rewards, can be associated with punishment leading to the inhibitions just stated, which can be a block to self-development and move it into other areas based on self-preservation. Doing things only as a means to an end. A transfer from sexual instincts to self-preservation instincts. "The pleasure-principle allows us to compare two otherwise quite different objects on the basis of a similitude of pleasurable tone, or of interests. But we are probably justified in assuming that on the other hand these objects and activities, not in themselves sources of pleasure, become so through this identification, a sexual pleasure being displaced onto them. Then, when repression begins to operate and the step from identification to symbol-formation is taken, symbol-formation, [for example] libidinal phantasies becoming fixated in sexual-symbolic fashion upon particular objects, activities and interests, it is [symbol-formation] which affords an opportunity for libido to be displaced on to other objects and activities of the self-preservative instincts, not originally possessing a pleasurable tone. Here we arrive at the mechanism of sublimation..." For example, if a person has trouble with sexual symbolism, then connecting with a feeling of satisfaction after eating can be used for finishing projects or tasks. You need to find feelings of love or savoring to connect to the project, which would more normally be seeing oneself, identifying, and imagining savoring a benefit related to finishing that task or project. What's the meaning? What's the benefit? What's the payoff? What is the wish that would be enjoyable to fulfill? What is beautiful? What is precious, cute, endearing or treasured? What should be preserved for the future? In a way, Melanie was studying authenticity in activities and relationships so that those children would be luckier than she was.

The Pleasure Principle - Sigmund Freud: https://rumble.com/v1gurqv-the-pleasure-principle-sigmund-freud.html

Object Relations: Fear Of Success Pt. 1: https://rumble.com/v1gvsvj-object-relations-fear-of-success-pt.-1.html

By 1924, it was clear the marriage wasn't working for the Kleins'. At that time Melanie moved to Berlin and there ensued a custody battle. "There is a widespread belief that Arthur Klein disappeared into Sweden, never to return. In actual fact he continued to live in the Dahlem house until 1937, when he moved to Switzerland, where he died in 1939. He remarried not long after the divorce ('disastrously,' according to Eric Clyne, since he was again divorced within a few years), and there was a daughter by the marriage. According to his son, Arthur Klein was subsequently looked after by a series of housekeepers."

Melanie Klein Trust: https://melanie-klein-trust.org.uk/

Love, Guilt and Reparation: And Works 1921-1945 (The Writings of Melanie Klein, Volume 1) by Melanie Klein: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780743237659/

The New Dictionary of Kleinian Thought by Elizabeth Bott Spillius, Jane E. Milton, Penelope Garvey, Cyril Couve, Deborah Steiner: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780415592598/

Melanie Klein by Penelope Garvey: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9781032105246/

Melanie Klein: Her World and Her Work by Phyllis Grosskurth: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9781568214450/

Analyst of the Imagination by Jenny Pearson: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9781855759046/

The War Inside by Michal Shapira: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9781107035133/

Hernandez-Halton I. Klein, Ferenczi and the clinical diary. Am J Psychoanal. 2015 Mar;75(1):76-85.

Psychology: http://psychreviews.org/category/psychology01/

#abreaction #catharsis #child psychology #divorce #education #femininity #franz alexander #karl abraham #masculinity #melanie klein #object relations #oedipus complex #pedagogy #playpsychology #psychoanalysis #repression #sandor ferenczi #sublimation #teaching

[rcvandenboogaard]

Freud en de psychoanalyse, nog steeds onder vuur

U zag het meteen natuurlijk: dit bronzen sculptuur uit 1916 verbeeldt ‘een vrouw die in de spiegel kijkt’. De Roemeense kunstenaar Constantin Brâncusi maakte het in opdracht van Marie Bonaparte, achternicht van keizer Napoleon Bonaparte en vriendin en volgeling van Sigmund Freud. Brâncusi ergerde zich nogal aan haar en hield niet van portretten, maar Marie Bonaparte was een dame tegen wie je…

View On WordPress

#Anna Freud #Arthur Eaton #Brancusi #Charcot #Ernest Jones #Freud #Loe Kann #Marie Bonaparte #Melanie Klein #Peter Gay #psychoanalyse #Salvador Dalí #Sandor Ferenczi #Seamus O&039;Mahony #Wenen #Wilfred Trotter

[erosioni]

E’ risultato che il trauma è molto più raramente di quanto si credesse la conseguenza di un’elevata sensibilità innata nei bambini, che reagirebbero in modo nevrotico a un aumento di dispiacere magari banale e inevitabile; il trauma sarebbe quasi sempre, viceversa, la conseguenza di un modo sbagliato, privo di comprensione e di tatto, lunatico e addirittura crudele di trattare i bambini. Le fantasie isteriche non mentono quando ci dicono che genitori ed adulti, nelle loro manifestazioni passionali di affetto nei confronti dei bambini - manifestazioni di natura erotica – giungono veramente a degli eccessi, aggravati dal fatto che se i bambini stanno a questo gioco a metà inconscio degli adulti, questi ultimi sono portati a ricambiarli con minacce e castighi che restano del tutto immotivati ai loro occhi. Sulle piccole vittime, sicuramente innocenti, tutto ciò ha allora azione di shock. Oggi io sono nuovamente incline a dare maggiore importanza, accanto al complesso edipico nei bambini, alle tendenze incestuose rimosse degli adulti, che si presentano sotto la maschera della tenerezza. […] La prima reazione ad uno shock sembra essere sempre una psicosi passeggera, vale a dire un’alienazione dalla realtà […] In tutti i casi di amnesia nevrotica, forse anche nella normale amnesia infantile, l’azione traumatica produrrebbe dunque una scissione psicotica della personalità.

Sandor Ferenczi

#Sandor Ferenczi

[papirene-royzn]

"In fact, Sandor Ferenczi, a disciple of Freud’s, went so far as to declare, in Thalassa: A Theory of Genitality, that men only make love to women because women’s wombs smell of herring brine, and men are trying to get back to the primordial ocean."

-Diane Ackerman, A Natural History of The Senses.

#lit #sea #ocean #love

[susieporta]

“I bambini hanno bisogno di appianare qualsiasi specie di disordine nella famiglia, per così dire di caricare sulle proprie fragili spalle il peso che grava sulle spalle di tutti;naturalmente non fanno questo, alla fin fine, per puro altruismo, ma per poter nuovamente godere la tranquillità perduta e la tenerezza che dipende da questa tranquillità. Una madre che si lamenta delle proprie sofferenze può fare della figlia la propria infermira a vita, in sostanza procurarsi, per mezzo suo, un sostituto della madre, senza tener in alcun conto i veri interessi della figlia.”

Sandor Ferenczi

[micr0bia]

Muchos de los grandes precursores del psicoanálisis moderno, fotografiados en un congreso de psicoanálisis celebrado en 1911 en Weimar, Alemania.

1. Sigmund Freud (Viena). 2. Otto Rank (Viena). 3. Ludwig Binswanger (Kreuzlingen). 4. A. A. Brill. 5. Max Eitingon (Berlín). 6. James J. Putnam (Boston). 7. Ernest Jones (Toronto). 8. Wilhelm Stekel (Viena). 9.Eugen Bleuer (Zúrich). 10. Emma Jung (Küsnacht). 11. Sandor Ferenczi (Budapest). 12. C. G. Jung (Küsnacht).

[anelezehcnas]

"Psicoanálisis"

Psicoanálisis

1.-¿Qué es el Psicoanálisis?

2.-¿A quienes trata el Psicoanálisis?

Los descubrimientos de Freud

El Inconsolente

Experiencias de la niñez temprana

Desarrollo Psioosexual

El complejo de Edipo

Represión

Sueños como cumplimiento de deseos

Transferencia

Asociación libre

El yo,ello y Super yo

Los mayores descubrimientos que enriquecieron la teoría Psicoanalistica de Freud:

(Diferentes corrientes y escuelas del psicoanálisis actual Freudianos clásicos y contemporáneos

Sandor Ferenczi

Psicología del yo

Kleinianos olásloos y contemporáneos

Escuela Kleimiana, Rama Bioniana.

La rama winnicottiana y la teoría de la relación de objeto

psicoanálisis francés

psicología del self

psicoanálisis relacional

El núcleo del método Psicoanalístico y el encuadre.

Método

Difentes métodobde tratamiento Psicoanalístico. (Adultos, niños, grupos,eto)

Psicoanálisis

encuadre

Psicoterapia, Psicoanalítica, psicodinámica.

niños y adolescentes

Psloodrama Psicoanalístico

Psicoterapia Psicoanalítica de parejas y familia

Psicoanálisis grupal

Formación psicoanalitica

Psicoanálisias aplicado

a.La IPA COMO ORGANIZACIÓN SU CODIGO DE DE ÉTICA

10 Donde y como hallar psicoanálisis

¿QUE ES EL PSICOANÁLISIS?

[insidedreams-blog]

PODCAST

#sleep #dreams #dreaming #dreamwork #dream therapy #dream analysis #dreamology #dream meanings #dream interpretation #the science of dreams #Inside Dreams Blog

[murdoch-histories]

Sandor Ferenczi was born on July 7, 1873 in Miskolc, Hungary in a family of 12 children. He studied at the University of Vienna and served as an army doctor after his graduation. Ferenczi specialized in neurology, neuropathy, and hypnosis. In 1908, he met Sigmund Freud and became a part of his Psychological Wednesday Society and more importantly Freud’s inner circe.

Ferenczi’s studies were not met with acceptance, as one of his theories said to practice abstinence to store up libido (emotional energy) to make therapy go faster. Sex starved patients were unhappy. In 1929, he moved his ideas to create a “loving, permissive atmosphere by therapist to counterbalance the rejection and emotional deprivation the patient had experience with his parents.”

In 1913, he founded Hungarian Psychoanalytic Society and later in his career the Journal of Psycho Analysis. He passed away in 1933 in Budapest.

#murdoch mysteries #MurdochHistories #season 15 #episode 1513 #scientists/inventors #sandor ferenczi

[angelrodrigodebalboa]

Character-traits are, so to speak, secret psychoses.

Sandor Ferenczi

#sandor ferenczi #ernest becker #the denial of death

[psychreviews2]

Case Studies: The ‘Wolfman’ – Sigmund Freud Pt. 3

On the cutting room floor

Being such important case studies, later analysts would unearth from them what Freud could not see in the early 20th century. Patrick Mahony analyzed some of what was missing in The Cries of the Wolf Man based on more current discoveries, just like he did in his huge review of the "Ratman." In those days, again, women were often not emphasized as much as men for their influence on a child's upbringing. "...Freud's paternalistic bias in his understanding of the case and the [minimization] of maternal transference appears in the odd statement that the father was Serge's 'first and most primitive object choice.' Finally, Freud's judgment of aggressive factors was wanting. He underplayed the hostile elements in the transference. Stressing sexual explanations, he neglected the essential connection between narcissism and aggression and the patient's identification with the aggressor; in particular, much of Serge's early [behaviour] was an identification with an aggressor, which is to be explained not merely as a reaction from passivity to activity but rather as a process whereby becoming the aggressor diminishes [low self-opinion], gratifies the self, and regains self-esteem...Sociologically we must be aware that because of the enormous wealth and aristocratic standing of Serge's family and attendantly because of its palatial mansion, it is of the greatest unlikelihood that the boy would have slept in his parents bedroom. We can hardly imagine that this reality was not brought up and discussed during the analysis, and yet Freud suppressed this in his reportage." Freud was also working through his own situation with homosexual libido at around that time with his split with Wilhelm Fliess. In a letter to Sandor Ferenczi Freud wrote that "a piece of homosexual investment has been withdrawn and utilized for the enlargement of my own ego. I have succeeded where the paranoiac fails." It was also known that Sigmund slept in his parents quarters and was more likely to witness his parents having sex rather than his patient.

Mahony further describes the improbability of the primal scene, and that the child with malaria was able to watch the parents having sex for a long period of time, even if he were only in the room once. The angle of seeing the genitals from the cot would also be improbable. "Apart from the fact that the primal scene may be absorbed into screen memories, the question remains as to whether the exposure to primal scenes must necessarily be traumatic or be interpreted as a sadomasochistic experience. The universality of incest taboos and the inevitability of unconscious guilt incurred in witnessing the primal scene and the child's possible rage and narcissistic injury are elements to be taken into account in any future answer. At any rate, Freud's focusing on direct instinctual overstimulation due to a single primal scene overlooked the possible trauma of more important factors: the pathology of earliest object relations; the psychobiological side effects of the nearly fatal pneumonia suffered at the age of three months; life threatening malaria and its sequelae in ego disturbance; and finally, what we now understand as the sensitivity of the rapproachement subphase of separation-individuation when language, secondary process, and gender identification are rapidly evolving and vulnerable." Here the rapproachment subphase he is talking about, is the age when the child has to start to feel comfortable doing some things on his or her own.

Like the mutual admiration society described earlier, prematurely believing in success can fool both the therapist and patient. Mahony adds that "[by bringing] their 'interplay of suggestion and compliance' to bear upon the so-called breakthrough at the end of the case, we see at another level the patient's submission to his insistent analyst, who all the while eagerly and self-deceptively believed that infantile material was being worked through. The forced termination gratified the Wolf Man's passive fantasies related to the primal scene and at the same time further entrenched him in a castration complex. There is a partial truth to the diagnostic account of the Wolf Man 'as having submitted in a feminine manner to Freud and as having produced a child for him - the wolf dream and its analysis - and thereby a cure in part through a misalliance and mutual inappropriate gratification. One might even speak of an '[invention] induced by interpretation whereby the dream, placed at the center of the treatment, became the object of an equal ardor and of reciprocal seduction.' In one sense the patient retreated to a second line of defense; his compliant false self gave Freud what he was looking for, with the result that the patient's infantile grandiosity remained untouched, a false-self maneuver which 'settled several critical dilemmas, and satisfied narcissism at both ends of the couch.'" Ironically, Freud was studying Narcissism at this time but all he saw was genital narcissistic masculinity rebelling against femininity.

A big possible miss comes from the former director of the Sigmund Freud Archives, after Kurt Eissler, Jeffrey Masson, who found unpublished material that could be of use to the case study. In his controversial The Assault on Truth, he was "asked...to go through the unpublished material...concerning the Wolf-Man, one of Freud’s most famous later patients. There I found some notes by Ruth Mack Brunswick for a paper she never published. At Freud’s request, she had re-analyzed the Wolf-Man and was astonished to learn that as a child he had been anally seduced by a member of his family—and that Freud did not know this. She never told him. Why? Did Freud not know because he did not want to know? And did Ruth Mack Brunswick not tell him because she sensed this?" His discovery unfortunately doesn't provide which family member it was and so it remains floating in the possibilities of interpretation. Was it a parent, a sibling, or a caretaker? Freud did acknowledge sexual abuse in childhood, but he focused more on frustrated wishes, precisely because not all victims end up with psychological problems after abuse. A more balanced view that looks at both abuse and frustrated wishes would help, and if Serge had that dealt with in the analysis with Freud, it certainly would have been more insightful.

In the end Mahony found Brunswick's analysis too timid to break with Freud's orthodox analysis. "Brunswick bore some similarity to her patient the Wolf Man, and one may wonder whether the overlap influenced Freud's decision on the referral. To complete this part of the story: during her prolonged stay in Vienna, her health deteriorated, prompting her to follow the dying Freud to London in 1938 to have further analysis with him. Imagine the desperate scene: now a recent widower, the succor-seeking Wolf Man rushing to London to see his analyst, who herself was frail and back in treatment with her own and her patient's former analyst." Mahony speculates that this could have been seen as a rejection to Serge because "in London the Wolf Man obtained relief from Brunswick but tried unsuccessfully to see Freud." Then with Freud's death, his wife's suicide, and Ruth's untimely death, he would eventually have to find others to rely on. By the time Serge was interviewing with Karin Obholzer, he was seeing Kurt Eissler and possibly Dr. Wilhelm Solms. Mahony researched the background to those interviews. "Pankejeff voiced endless resentment of others, including Eissler and Gardiner, who so generously sustained him materially and psychologically; meanwhile he was criticizing Obholzer to Eissler. This backbiting, atypical of the immortal patient, indicates another character change where senility had its say. But it is fitting to ask how much he was influenced by the anti-psychoanalytic interviews, if he spoke for himself, or even more to the point, did he ever speak for himself?"

Life after Freud

Despite the positive overtones of the Psychoanalysts, Psychoanalysis has always been under a lot of criticism, and Serge was the longest living patient of Freud's. He would provide a lot of material to analyze after so many treatments. The last part of Serge's life until his death included continued communication with psychoanalysts and an interview with an agnostic journalist, Karin Obholzer. It was very interesting to see the two sides of the Wolfman case. From the point of view of a psychologically untrained journalist, Karin was able to see Serge without the lens of psychoanalysis and to be able to notice how little he changed for an average person. Any unknown biological sources of pathology would continue to manifest in front of her. Yet, from the point of view of psychoanalysts, they are the ones trained to treat patients and are able to see more depth than Karin was able to. It's very easy when reading these books to get emotional and take sides, because it's a human life in the balance. Karin would not be able to analyze Serge's defenses and break through them. She had to take him at his word. Psychoanalysis would develop into different traditions, including Object-Relations and Self-Psychology. Reviews of later psychoanalysts could see what Freud did right and wrong and add further understanding from more recent clinical observations. After all these years of treatment, how much improvement should Serge have noticed? Also, at his advanced age of 86, how much would he remember for an interview? 

Serge's late views on Freud and Psychoanalysis

Despite all that help from Freud and other Psychoanalysts, Serge remained skeptical at the end of his life. "Freud was a genius, there's no denying it! All those ideas that he combined in a system...Even though much isn't true, it was a splendid achievement." One of the interesting sticking points for Serge was the endless debate about choice and determinism. Even though Freud was mostly of the opinion of determinism, he still talked about choice. "Freud said that when one has gone through psychoanalysis, one can become well. But one must also want to become well. It's like a ticket one buys. The ticket gives one the possibility to travel. But I am not obliged to travel. It depends on...my decision." The difficulty for therapists is how to generate desire in people to change, and certainly Freud and others tried. "He had very serious eyes that looked down to the very bottom of the soul. His whole appearance was very appealing. I felt sympathy for him. That was transference. He had a magnetism or, better, an aura that was very pleasant and positive. When I told him about my various states, he said: 'We have the means to cure what you are suffering from'...He said 'Treatment means that you have to say everything that occurs to you'...He must have thought that the important things are in the subconscious and that they emerge through free association." Freud warned him not to rationalize the material. The patient had to trust the the analyst. "That's how he succeeded in bringing about a total transference to himself. Is that a good thing, do you suppose? That's the question. Too strong a transference ends with your transferring to individuals who replace Freud, as it were, and with your believing them uncritically. And that happened to me, to a degree. So transference is a dangerous thing....Basically [hypnosis and transference] are similar. I can remember Freud saying 'Hypnosis, what do you mean, hypnosis, everything we do is hypnosis too.'"

Serge went on explaining how he "worshiped" Freud and how Freud was a replacement to a disappointing father who preferred his sister instead. When his father died, Freud would be able to use a much stronger transference in therapy, and suggestions would be much easier to be adopted. Serge then talked about the difficulty of affording treatment, and how psychology is much better than it used to be. His big concern about psychotherapy was the false promise of happiness after an analysis, and the unexpected dependence on analysts. "The analyst puts the patient back into his childhood. And he experiences everything as a child. But that doesn't mean that the suffering has to pass. That's the important question: Must it pass when one remembers something? This question has not really been answered...The disciples of psychoanalysis should have not laid hold of me after Freud.

O: You mean they should have left you alone?

W: Yes, because I would have acted more independently...That is the danger of psychoanalysis, that one is dependent on the decisions of others who are not competent and knowledgeable but who believe that they know everything and can guide one just because they are psychoanalysts...Freud was so anti-religious [but] he and all of psychoanalysis are being blamed for the very thing for which he blamed religion, that it's nothing but a faith...But psychoanalysis is complicated. Who can make definitive and official statements? The effect was salutary, in any event. But it was not a complete cure.

O: And do you still believe in psychoanalysis?

W: I no longer believe in anything.

O: Nothing at all?

W: All right, I believe in transference. I am of the opinion, of course, that improvement can be made by transference.

O: Today, they also concern themselves with the family or with the couple if that's what it is.

W: That's the way it should be, of course. [They] must also deal with Therese and not say, that isn't my patient.

[But] I never thought much of dream interpretation, you know...Freud traces everything back to the primal scene which he derives from the dream. But that scene does not occur in the dream...That scene in the dream where the windows open and so on and the wolves are sitting there, and his interpretation, I don't know, those things are miles apart. It's terribly farfetched.

O: But it's true that you did have that dream.

W: Yes, it is...I prefer free association because there, something can occur to you. But that primal scene is no more than a construct...The whole thing is improbable because in Russia, children sleep in the nanny's bedroom, not in their parents'. It's possible, of course, that there was an exception, how do I know? But I have never been able to remember anything of that sort...If one...concludes from effects to cause, it's the same thing as circumstantial evidence in a trial.

O: What about the obsessional neurosis now?

W: I believe you are born with something like that, there's nothing one can do about it.

O: Freud writes that your illness erupted because you got the clap [Gonorrhea].

W: That we have to talk about these unpleasant things!

O: What's so terrible? It can happen to anyone. Perhaps it will console you when I tell you that I had the clap myself.

W: I am amazed you should tell me. You really seem to trust me!...I had a friend, and this friend had an older friend who arranged it. There was a café with three girls in it. And this friend knew that these girls were [waitresses] in that café and that they could also be put to a different use...And they also had a room...

O: How old were you at the time?

W: Seventeen.

O: Was that your first sexual experience?

W: Yes. In any event, we went and I asked the friend - you'll have to excuse my telling you these terrible things - whether one should use a prophylatic or not. And he answered, 'The whore will laugh at you.' So we didn't take any long. And then, by way of a joke, he said that there's a superstition that the name of the first woman with whom one has sexual intercourse will also be the name of the woman one marries. And that was true in our case. Her name was Maria, I remember, and my wife's name was actually Maria Therese. So it was true.

O: The gonorrhea came later?

W: Yes, later. I got it from a peasant girl. That was a year later. I felt confident; I thought, that can't happen in the country. People always said that it was risky to go to prostitutes. And out in the country it is less dangerous. The opposite turned out to be true.

O: And you gave the peasant girl money, or were you in love?

W: No, no, you always gave something, that was a matter of good manners.

O: What did you tell Freud you were suffering from?

W: Well depressions...it was because of Therese...Everyone was against Therese: the doctors, my mother, my relatives. They all said that she was a woman with whom one could not live. Had I decided to go see Therese, things might have been alright without Freud.

O: What was the attitude toward masturbation?

W: Well, my God, people said that one became insane, that it is very dangerous, that it's harmful. And when I saw Freud, he said, 'Well, that's an exaggeration. It isn't that serious.'

O: Did Freud advocate masturbation?

W: No, no, that's putting it too strongly. He viewed it as harmless.

O: [Ruth] writes that you said, 'Of course, I only masturbated regularly on the big holidays.'

W: What she wrote there is stupid. It's absurd.

O: Why? What if you did?

W: When I was seeing her, I was with Therese. I had no need to masturbate.

O: There are people who masturbate nonetheless.

W: But that's primarily young people who haven't had the courage to go to a woman or haven't had the opportunity.

O: One also finds it among couples. It isn't that unusual.

O: Did you ever have real homosexual relations?

W: Of course not, never. But since you bring it up, I happen to remember something. In Russia, the Armenians were known as homosexuals. I was told when one went to a bathhouse in the Caucasus, they asked, do you want a woman or a boy? When I was a student in Odessa, there was an Armenian. His name was Murato. He was a good-looking person but had disquieting eyes. Very strange eyes. That was what was so beautiful about him. There was a small group of us students, and this Murato was one of us. Once, he said to me, 'You know, after the performance, we are all visiting S. P. That was an actor in Odessa who was a known homosexual...Murato said, 'We are all going to see S.P.' I knew right away what he meant. One day, I was at the university to attend a lecture. All the seats were taken except for one next to this Murato. I sat down there. Suddenly, he takes my hand and starts pressing it. That was supposed to be a test. I immediately distanced myself...I had a second experience...I was going to Paris, there was another gentleman in the compartment. I stretched out and fell asleep in the corner by the window. Then he stepped up to the window and placed his foot close to mine. I didn't know what to do, should I push his foot away? So I pretended to sleep. Then he played with my knee, but finally he stopped. He wanted to see how I would react.

O: Freud writes about your homosexual tendencies...

W: Subconscious, of course. For Freud, all relations between men are homosexual.

O: It's probably true that every human being is naturally bisexual.

W: But homosexuals are relatively rare.

O: The educational barriers are very strong...Freud says somewhere that you preferred a certain position during intercourse, the one from behind...that you enjoyed it less in other positions.

W: But that also depends on the woman, how she is built. There are women where it is only possible from the front. That's happened to me. It depends on whether the vagina is more toward the front or toward the rear...With Therese...the first coitus was that she sat on top of me."

O: [Quoting Ernest Jones here]: 'From the age of six he had suffered from obsessive blasphemies against the Almighty, and he initiated the first hour of treatment with the offer to have rectal intercourse with Freud and then to defecate on his head.'

W: For heaven's sake, what nonsense! To write something like that, I don't know, is that fellow crazy or what, writing such nonsense. He explained it to me, he sits at the head end rather than at the foot of the bed because there was a female patient who wanted to seduce him, and she kept raising her skirt...That fellow must have a screw loose."

The quote Obholzer referred to was from Ernest Jones who took the situation too literally. Thankfully Mahony referenced the original letter from Freud writing to Sandor Ferenczi about a transference insult he received from Serge: "A rich young Russian whom I have taken on because of compulsive falling in love, confessed to me, after the first session, the following transference: Jewish swindler, he would like to use me from behind and shit on my head." Whether Serge forgot the transference or it never happened, at his age during the interview it's hard to verify. Certainly it's possible there was an anal obsession with Freud doing the analysis. At this point it's good to bring in more modern understandings of obsession and homosexuality. 

Homosexual OCD

A lot of conflict between people regarding sexuality is based on phobias and compulsive thoughts. When someone looks at someone else, they don't only look, the brain assesses imitatively if it identifies with the pleasure that person looks for. People forget that their desire or distaste is their own. For those who obsess, compulsions can happen just from looking at someone or thinking about content that adds to obsession. Freud in particular is a psychoanalyst that talks a lot about obsession and homosexuality. When obsession goes to an extreme it turns into what modern therapists call Homosexual Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (HOCD). Certainly with so much emphasis on sexuality and sexual orientation in Freud's insights, it's easy for people to obsess about how they dress, how they hold themselves and think "is that unconsciously gay?" Phobias and stereotypes can easily develop if you are constantly looking for signs. The human mind has many parts to it and it's capable of imitating emotions of others, just like you see in TV shows, movies, and even singing Karaoke and singing along in concerts are great examples of mimetics. You can imitate being the singer and it creates some emotions of validation, and identity, but this short-term imitation, that can turn into an obsession, is shallow compared to being the actual person. There are more piano notes to being in a long-term homosexual relationship where you are in love with your partner and desire to have regular sex with them, but where you also have deep intimate conversations and long-term joint projects. People can be confused by imitation, identification and compulsions to act. With OCD, the intrusive thoughts are very powerful. It may seem funny to many people, but it actually affects a lot of people, and if they can't get out of their thoughts/images and into the sensations of their body, they can have doubts about their sexual orientation for long periods of time. 

Monnica Williams did an excellent review of this type of OCD. In general, with OCD..."compulsions are repetitive, ritualized behaviors that the person feels driven to perform to alleviate the anxiety of the obsessions. Depending on the severity of the disorder, the compulsive rituals can occupy many hours each day...A recent study using a broad sample of OCD patients found that 25% experienced sexual obsessions currently or in the past. Sexual obsessions may revolve around a multitude of loci. Common themes include unfaithfulness, incest, pedophilia, unusual behaviors, AIDS, profane thoughts combining religion and sex, and, of course, homosexuality. Since sex carries so much emotional, moral, and religious importance, it easily becomes a magnet for obsessions in people predisposed to OCD....Homosexual anxiety is described here as the obsessive fear of being or becoming homosexual, the experience of intrusive, unwanted mental images of homosexual behavior, and/or the obsessive fear that others may believe one is homosexual. A person may have only one of these facets of the disorder or any combination. Since OCD is characterized by doubt, the person with OCD will contemplate the uncomfortable thoughts or images, agonize over the meaning of the questions that arise, determine possible answers, and then doubt the answers. The person will continually seek evidence to help arrive at a decision, perform compulsive rituals to ward off anxiety, ask others for reassurance, and/or avoid things or situations that worsen the anxiety. At times the person will realize that the fears are extreme but at other times the concerns may seem perfectly rational...People with HOCD may engage in a multitude of checking behaviors and avoidances. They may avoid watching television out of concern that seeing a show with a gay character might trigger the obsessions, causing a 'spike,' or surge of anxious thoughts. Others might look at pornographic images of homosexual couples and repeatedly assess whether they feel aroused, or even compare their responses to when they look at heterosexual images. Many people with homosexuality fears worry about a sudden lack of attraction to others of the opposite sex. They may attempt to have intercourse with their partner or masturbate to pornography just to ensure that they are 'still straight.' This form of checking is particularly destructive because the anxiety from the OCD typically results in decreased sex drive and/or an inability to perform, which the patient then misinterprets as further evidence of homosexuality. People with HOCD will often solicit reassurance from others then feel temporarily relieved, but the doubts always return. No amount of reassurance is ever enough because complete certainty cannot be obtained. Even though the person may be diagnosed with OCD, until they are treated they often will doubt the diagnosis...Homosexuality anxiety is not caused by dislike of homosexuals, but rather a fear that the person will no longer have access to the opposite sex, something they highly value."

An example of how extreme it can get is an OCD patient Monnica describes. "I have been diagnosed with OCD for a while now. The therapist I was seeing told me that I should try to be with a man, and that everybody is bisexual. It really freaked me out, and I was suicidal for five months thanks to what she said. The thoughts grew even stronger. Eventually, I couldn’t be with any person of the same sex alone in the same room, watch TV, read the newspaper, or listen to music with male voices." So this is important for Freudian psychoanalysts who are comfortable with bisexuality, but their patients are not, and also have OCD, especially if they are undiagnosed. Another example is of a 20 year old male masturbating to see which pornography creates the largest pleasure. "I’m struggling with these bloody urges, and I can’t stand it any more. It keeps saying, “You want it,” [obsession] and eventually I say, “Fine,” and I just masturbate to things I hate [compulsion]. It does a little bit for me, but I’m pretty sure that’s the stimulation and not the content. But then as soon as I think of a girl [compulsion], boom, I finish, and I know I am straight. But how am I supposed to get these thoughts out of my head? These urges feel real. I don’t like this. I don’t want to be gay at all. It’s a scary thought that I'd have to spend the rest of my life with a guy [obsession]. I can’t handle that, but something keeps telling me that’s what I want [obsession], even though in reality that’s disgusting to me. OCD is so confusing isn’t it?"

Of course this doesn't only affect men. "This is all started about two years ago, with obsessions about being gay. Over the past several months my thoughts have been insane. I can't do anything without freaking out that it is a sign [obsession]. I am in the medical profession. If I have to do an...exam, and a girl is skinny (and of course I'm jealous), I get visuals that I don't want. If a couple comes in and the husband is ugly, but the wife is pretty and thin, I think, 'Oh my God, I would rather be with the wife than the husband [obsession].' Then I try to picture myself years down the road [compulsion], and I can't see who I am with – a man or a woman. I feel like I have become obsessed with the female body, which could either be due to my horrendous self-esteem or that I'm really gay. I used to be obsessed with the male body and always talking about how hot this guy was or that guy, and now I feel like I can't do that anymore. These thoughts are shifting my entire outlook on who I want to be with. I have been dating someone for the past seven months, and he is aware of what has been going on. He tries to help, but doesn't really know how. It seems like it has gotten progressively worse since I have started dating him. In the beginning, sex was awesome, and now it's all I can do to make it through sex without crying because I feel like I'm going insane. And at times I feel so full of sadness and depression, that I forget how much I love (or think I love) [obsession] my boyfriend."

Like with most OCD, the treatments involve tackling the logic of obsessive thoughts. "I realized that when the phrase 'You're gay' popped into my head I was telling myself the following: (1) You are inferior to other men, (2) You are effeminate, (3) You are a sissy, (4) No woman would be interested in you. When I saw the lies in these statements, I said to myself, 'You know what, even if I am gay this distorted belief system is a problem and needs to be fixed.' Once I saw the lie, it was like a fog lifted, and the horrible depression disappeared instantly. I thought this was really too good to be true so I called my therapist. She told me that, yes, once you realize the distortions in some of your thoughts your mood can change instantly. It was unbelievable."

Fred Penzel, from the International OCD Foundation, provides some tips for resisting checking behaviour. "Not checking your reactions to attractive members of your own sex. Not imagining yourself in sexual situations with same-sex individuals to check on your own reactions. Not behaving sexually with members of the opposite sex just to check your own reactions. Resist reviewing previous situations where you were with members of the same or opposite sex, or where things were ambiguous to see if you did anything questionable. Avoid observing yourself to see if you behaved in a way you imagine a homosexual or member of the opposite sex would." The problem with checking behaviour is that it can become addictive because of the relief. Yet the relief doesn't last because doubts keep returning because it's hard to be absolute about fuzzy areas like sexual orientation, and certainly having other non-professionals suggest your orientation is to give them too much power. One has to develop skepticism of people who rattle off suggestions that "your clothes are gay, your interests are gay, you saw gay pornography, that means you're gay, you had thoughts about being gay, then you're gay." You can reverse it to see how unscientific those suggestions are. "Your clothes are straight, your interests are straight, you saw straight pornography, that means you're straight, you had thoughts about being straight, then you're straight." Another area of healing can come from exposure therapy, where you actually entertain more ideas of homosexuality to face your phobias. Now this isn't a checking obsession, these are actually attempts to learn. Depending on how serious the compulsions are, a patient has to be ready to deal with the anxiety. This includes..."reading books by or about gay persons. Watching videos on gay themes or about gay characters. Visiting gay meetings shops, browsing in gay bookstores, or visiting areas of town that are more predominantly gay. Wearing a T-shirt at home with the word ‘gay’ on it. Wearing clothes in fit, color, or style that could possibly look effeminate for a man or masculine for a woman...[Read] about people who are sexually confused. Reading about people who are transgendered. Looking at pictures of people who are transgendered or are transvestites."

As an aside, on the checking behaviour with pornography, people need to be aware of how much disgust towards any sex is held back in things like pornography. Just like in advertising, all undesirable details are removed, or participants act as if undesirable details are desirable to get the brain to imitate. As long as participants look like they're having a good time, the brain wants to imitate pleasure. This habit can sneak into areas that require more authenticity. Long-term sexual relationships require a lot of love, caring, and concern. Most of these things are missing from pornography. The relationship template the brain is learning from in pornography is based on what's left out. This isn't to bash pornography but much of it leaves out long-term relationships, envy, jealousy, STIs, and relationship skills. Lust also gets boring. What is attractive at the beginning in a relationship can become quite boring after a certain amount of time. Long-term relationships have passion, love and interest that doesn't fizzle as easily. Having gay or lesbian sex without the human connection that goes beyond a sexual connection is too superficial to be full sexual orientation. Pornography is not a good example for people to decide what their sexual orientation is. At most it can help condition an appreciation of the same sex in terms of lust, but it doesn't condition romantic love and relationship skills because those things are absent in most pornography. The piano notes of a loving long-term relationship have a lot more variety than sex addiction, and like any addiction, overemphasizing one note is all about short-term quick relief to regulate the emotions, just like alcohol and other substances. If boredom rules addiction and it requires more novelty and intensity then in the example of relationships, long-term relationships would be boring and partners would have to be exchanged constantly. What people with different sexual orientations are fighting for in claiming equal rights is much more than just sex. 

Outside of sexual orientation, a person has to look beyond needing a response from society or authority figures to bless a relationship, and one has to get to a point as if you and your partner are on your own, making your own decisions, without needing validation from others and to be able to feel relaxed, comfortable and happy. This is actually a difficult thing to do. To look at actual relationships and actual objects for their actual value, without needing validation, and agreement from others is an advanced level of intrinsic motivation. Many people want what they want and demand that everyone agree with them, even if opinions from others are irrelevant. A lot of the high people get is on social validation and it can distort any individual's decision making strategies, and is a huge source of conflict internally and externally. People want you to agree with their religion, philosophy, sexual orientation, and cultural habits. Rewards and punishments constantly steer the mind away from authentic choices. To mind your own business and live your own life actually takes a lot of courage, but the reward is psychological freedom and independence.

Horace Frink & Proto-conversion therapy

Of course this mistake of needing help from authority figures to work out sexual orientation also happened in Freud's time and he was also implicated in those mistakes. Serge wasn't the only one that became a ward of psychoanalysis, and this can happen in any modality where the therapist receives a parental transference respect from the patient. Freud over emphasized unconscious homosexuality in a way that helped but he was too omnipotent to understand how unbending many sexual orientations are. He eventually figured it out, but it didn't start off that way. The Frink Fiasco was almost as bad as what happened with Emma Eckstein. [See: Dreams: https://rumble.com/v1gtf6j-dreams-sigmund-freud.html] Horace Frink was a former analysand of Freud's and he impressed him enough to have Horace selected as Freud representative in America. Frink was having an affair with the banking heiress Angelika Bijur, and Freud suggested that Frink was in love with her and should divorce his wife, which he had two children with. After the divorces and the new marriage to Bijur, Frink's mental health deteriorated with feelings of guilt. His depression and anger increased with accusations that his new wife was ugly and looked like a man or a pig. Freud responded "Your idea Mrs. Bijur had lost part of her beauty may be turned into her having lost part of her money. Your complaint that you cannot grasp your homosexuality implies that you are not yet aware of your fantasy of making me a rich man. Let us change this imaginary gift into a real contribution to the Psychoanalytic Funds." Freud was in the dangerous position that most psychologists face, which is how to make money and follow ethics. The pressure to have famous successful cases pushes people to take short-cuts, and is always an influence therapists have to ignore to protect their patients. Frink himself was now stuck analyzing patients for the needed money, even as he started losing faith in psychoanalysis. His ongoing fights with Angelika resorted to blows and she filed for divorce. Freud was forced into having to dismiss Frink from leadership in America, and it turned into a resentment that Freud had against his followers in the United States. Frink continued to deteriorate, including two suicide attempts, leading to an admission in a sanatorium. Now on Freud's side, he wasn't responsible for Frink's affairs, but psychological suggestions are dangerous, partly because it's actually hard to be a therapist and avoid suggestions, but this is also compounded when important individuals in family relationships are left out of the analysis. Angelika's ex-husband Abraham asserted himself in a letter to Freud that should be an example to all therapists who should think before they offer any suggestions, especially match-making suggestions. "Dr Freud: Two patients presented themselves to you and made it clear that on your judgment depended whether they had a right to marry. The man is bound in honour by the ethics of his profession not to take advantage of his confidential position toward his patients. The woman was his patient. The woman is my wife. How can you know you are just to me: how can you give a judgment that ruins a man's home and happiness, without at least knowing the victim, so as to see if he is worthy of the punishment, or if through him a better solution cannot be found? Great Doctor, are you savant or charlatan?"

This is just as much a problem today as it was then. Going back to the concern of the 'Ratman' Ernst Lanzer, Patrick Mahony said "it was years later [than his analysis] before Freud fully realized that the uncovering of guilt could lead to the negative therapeutic effect of worsening a patient's condition." This is a great example for budding therapists to study before they start the profession. Blame, as is known in the court system, can be accurate, but it also can conflate all the problems that a person has onto a scapegoat and therapists can be scapegoated. Both the therapist and the patient have to take on their own responsibilities for making decisions. Patients need to find second opinions, and if they are capable of agency, they should be doing their own research. The challenge for therapists is to make sure the client knows that psychology is not a magic wand that will make you rich and find the perfect spouse. Psychologists are not experts in every field of life, and suggestions outside of their expertise must be looked at with skepticism. Many things are uncertain, and in a world where people glorify intuition, it can be as dangerous as a random guess. Daniel Kahneman describes when intuition works best "We have seen that reliably skilled intuitions are likely to develop when the individual operates in a high-validity environment and has an opportunity to learn the rules of that environment. These conditions often remain unmet in professional contexts, either because the environment is insufficiently predictable or because of the absence of opportunities to learn its rules." What this basically says is that you can only trust intuition when you know a lot about something. The best attitude to have in therapy is to be skeptical of all intuitions until the patient's family and friends are understood very well. Even then, there will be mistakes, so an emphasis that people have to take responsibility for themselves instead of relying on their psychologist like they are a child dependent and the therapist is a parent, must be communicated to the patient. The patient needs to inform themselves and read different points of view, and if they are capable of learning a lot about reality, and the different scientific disciplines, then they can be independent minded enough to make their own decisions, and hopefully, if their problem is not genetic or biological, they can let go of dependence on a saviour therapist. For most therapists, success is when the patient doesn't need to come back, and the ex-patient now cherishes their own research and decision making skills. 

Why so few talented therapists treat clients with challenging disorders - Marsha Linehan: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5mTLFfCQyY

Bisexual erasure and psychological templates

Jonathan Barrett from the University of Nevada, did a good review of early conversion therapy philosophies in Psychoanalysis and how it's toxicity split off into the United States. Freud eventually learned that “It is not for psychoanalysis to solve the problem of homosexuality...one must remember that in normal sexuality also there is a limitation in the choice of object; in general to undertake to convert a fully developed homosexual into a heterosexual is not much more promising than to do the reverse, only that for good practical reasons the latter is never attempted." Here he suggests that object choices are made early in life and they are very persistent throughout life. By the time someone is an adult and a patient, unless there is some intensity and pleasure with either object choice, a conversion therapist is in the position of trying to make someone straight when there isn't enough pleasure already there to support it, and maybe even disgust towards the opposite sex. Another pitfall is bisexual erasure, where again labels are used to block possible experiences. Labels can be useful, but not if they repress real object choices. The actor Alan Cumming provided a warning that repression can go in many different ways. “I see a worrying trend among LGBT people, that if you identify yourself in just one way, you close yourself off to other experiences. My sexuality has never been black and white; it’s always been gray. I’m with a man, but I haven’t closed myself off to the fact that I’m still sexually attracted to women.” This statement is helpful for people who are in homosexual or heterosexual relationships, because they don't have to pretend they don't have other desires as well. Having those desires also doesn't mean people can't be in a committed relationship with one person. The typical mistake is labeling someone as homosexual or heterosexual when they are concurrently in those kind of relationships, as if they can't carry both desires in their mind at the same time. Accusations of bi-sexuals being greedy or cheaters can also be put to bed. Cheating can happen in any sexual orientation.

Alan Cumming fan page: http://www.alancumming.com/

Mel B and Ginger Spice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7rqO-PjxQg

Geri Halliwell Mel B Lesbian affair: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aGqhC4tejLA

Like in HOCD or in situations of internalized bigotry against homosexual desire in oneself, the brain can move into self-attacking, and that's what is the pathology. Self-hatred can inhibit at one degree but it can also become more severe with suicidal ideation. Real therapy is to accept desires in oneself without resorting to pathological self-recrimination. Ultimately you are not falling in love with a category, but an individual. More important relationship questions that are not to be overlooked are "am I in the cycle of abuse? Do I have a habitual template to be with abusive people? What is a good relationship?" What a successful relationship looks like, has more to do with relationship skills, and in places like the Gottman Institute, there are so many skills partners have to develop to achieve great long-lasting relationships. Too much focus on sexual orientation may make one miss why you wanted to be in a relationship in the first place. To be with people who are non-abusive and who love and understand you. Ultimately that's what Serge was not doing. He was moving from one influence to another. Religious influences grafted on him, but then in the presence of an atheist he would lose belief. He was moving from doctors to psychoanalysts, and being swept along cultural changes, but was not able to row his own oar. In the end, Serge's template of relationships was more important to analyze than what his sexual orientation might turn out to be. Tragically, he learnt that too late.

The Gottman Institute: https://www.gottman.com/

Luise and the cycle of abuse

Towards the end of Serge's life, his greatest weakness was choosing the wrong relationship template. His last intimate relationship was with a women that Serge called "Luise." This story should trigger a lot of recognition for those who know about the cycle of abuse. 

W: [Luise] is a very impulsive woman...Twenty years ago...we ran into each other on the street. And she said, let's make up. I shouldn't have done that.

My father restricted my inheritance until I reached twenty-eight because he was afraid that I might fall into the hands of...a robber. And I always felt, that's not a danger for me. I never thought that I...would become involved in such an affair with this Luise...This Luise was completely unsuitable. Luise is an oaf. It's through her that I spoiled everything for myself.

Therese died and she wrote in her farewell letter: 'Marry a decent woman and go to Sister...and seek her advice, and don't become attached to some slut because that could be the end of you.' She had understood the important thing.

O: That you feel drawn to sluts?

W: Yes, she understood that that's where the danger lies. When I am friends with a decent woman, I can marry and live in some fashion. But there's nothing to be done with a slut. Because sluts...either they demand money from you all the time or who knows what...Well, and that's what happened, and so I find myself in an awful situation with this friend. 

O: But in what way is she a slut?

W: Isn't it being a slut when the woman gets married and tells me nothing about it...and kept coming to me the whole time? Had she said that she had got married, I would have stopped seeing her. But then she divorced him. All right, slut, what does slut mean? The word isn't attractive. Couldn't we find a better one, one that isn't so offensive? Twice I associated with impossible women, and with the first, things turned out all right. I even wrote about it, I was lucky, I got away from her...And then I got involved with this other one and I can't get away from her because the woman has nothing. She has no pension, no health insurance, and she is ill...There's something wrong with her heart, she has angina pectoris, there is something the matter with her kidneys, with her gallbladder, and she has diabetes. What can you do? And now she says she has cancer. I don't know if it's true, of course. And she constantly tortures me with reproaches and wants me to marry her. One cannot marry this woman, she is a serious psychopath. I don't even know what I should talk to her about. It's always the same thing that interests her. We pass a house and she says, 'I wouldn't mind having a house like that...' She makes demands that are altogether absurd...and I have been her lover for twenty-five years, as it were. I only see her on Sundays...She has had two divorces!

O: And she doesn't get anything from those men?

W: Nothing. She is so clever, when people are standing in line at the movies or the theater for tickets, she simply walks up and says, 'I ordered tickets,' and they give them to her. You'd think she's really clever. She has no interests, nothing. She says she has read a great deal. But when I saw what was on her shelves, it isn't true. She is only interested in material things...Constant reproaches. Everything is my fault. I never had any idea that there are people like that, women who are so impossible in every sense...Eissler writes, 'Let her scold, let her rage, what of it?' It's easy for him to talk...But if that woman is constantly causing scandals like one time...We were quarreling on the street and people were already calling the police - that sort of thing is unacceptable. Perhaps you could give me some advice. Solms once said, 'Men are stupid.'

O: There's only one advice one can give, and that is that you dissociate yourself from that woman.

W: Solms says that 'If it didn't work back then, it won't change now.' There were a few occasions when I could have broken with her. But this idea that Solms expressed, that this is the way it has to remain, prevented me. Instead of doing me some good, psychoanalysis did me harm.

O: What was it that attracted you about that woman? Did she have such a strong sexual attraction for you?

W: She had sexual attraction. And the absurd thing is that the sexual attraction wasn't really all that strong...In the beginning, perhaps, but then it decreased...This woman is always ready to quarrel. That's her element. To slander, to berate others, to feel the victim...that all kinds of injustices were perpetrated against her. And everywhere she goes she must have her way. Even in restaurants: her portion is so small, the person at the next table had a larger one. Then she has a heart ailement and says, 'The air is bad.' Or, 'It smells of mothballs, that coat hanging there, it smells of mothballs.' She can't stand it, the window has to be opened. But the waiter says, 'We can't do that, there are other people here, there's a draft...' There is nothing you can talk to her about...There's nothing you can say to her, she immediately starts threatening...It's forever the same thing: disputes with neighbors, the old Bohemian who doesn't open the windows along the corridor, there's a bad smell there, the air is stale...Her interests are so limited. Nothing but constant demands...I feel a certain obligation, because I have been with this woman for such a long time. And she really is ill, isn't she? But the terrible thing is, one cannot talk to this woman. She wanted to report me to the police. She will make her case public - this injustice, this terrible viciousness, what I did to her because I was so old and she is still so young. The public must hear about this; it must be shown on television...'That should be brought to public notice.' You can't talk to her. I sit there like an idiot and keep my mouth shut. And she says, 'You are having another one of your spells.'

O: What sort of spells?

W: A depression....She has the idea that you must be a fool to have depressions...An entirely primitive idea. Well, and what does Solms say? 'A serious psychopath with paranoid ideas.' Wherever she goes, she feels persecuted. She feels disadvantaged by fate.' She demands money for her health and then she buys clothes. And yet she is sixty years old and hates old women. It seems she feels she's a teenager.

O: She's forever buying clothes?

W: Now she has lost weight. And altering things costs more than buying them new.

O: And you go along with that?

W: As you see, unfortunately. But I don't know how it's all going to end.

O: Can you afford it?

W: I got money from the book.

O: And all the money you got...you spent nothing on yourself, you gave it all to your friend?

W: Only she benefited, really. I was so restless at home, and so I gave her the money. I did make that mistake.

O: But she is never satisfied?

W: No, never. And now it's always the same thing: 'What am I going to do when you die?' And I console her. Eissler sends me small amounts of money for her.

O: He sends you money? For what?

W: For that woman.

O: He helps you for humanitarian reasons, or did you give him something for the archive?

W: I gave him quite a few paintings.

O: And the archive pays for them, or does Eissler pay out of his own pocket?

W: The archive.

O: Regularly?

W: Yes.

O: So you actually get a kind of pension from the Freud archive.

W: ...which does me no good, it's for the woman. If they sent it to me, and I kept it, I could live quite well...You can see that everything is full of conflict. And that also influences how I feel.

O: And Luise knows about this?

W: She knows about the archive. I haven't told her anything about the book. But begging isn't pleasant either. And it is not a pleasant feeling that they send me something because they feel compassion for the woman.

O: Will she get something after your death?

W: I'm uncertain. At times, Eissler says one thing, at others another. So a dependence on Eissler has arisen, and so it drags on. And I receive free treatment. A whole number of dependencies arise, and that's harmful, of course. It harms the ego I'd say....

O: In other words you have no talent for making life pleasant for yourself...I would not have taken that much from anyone.

W: That's it: I put up with too much.

O: I find your behaviour odd. If something is proposed to me, I ask myself, what do I want?

W: Yes, yes, I believe the ego is damaged somehow.

W: Eissler wants to keep track of the case that has become so famous - Freud's most famous case - and see how it ends....Eissler has one opinion, Solms another, and Gardiner a third...One becomes involved in a labyrinth of dependencies that contradict each other...According to the theory, one would have to be completely free, uninfluenced...Psychoanalysis should really enable one to live without a father figure. But what actually happens is that one goes on living with the father figure... Sometimes, when I think about all those things, it seems the only way out...Should one kill oneself? I have gas.

O: Gas, you know, is not what it was in 1938. Today, it's practically impossible to kill yourself with gas. The gas is detoxified.

W: Thank you for having told me about the gas.

O: Had you seriously considered it?

W: Yes, but now its out of the question."

Serge did continue on living and enjoyed the company of Karin, and the reader can witness the pleasure that he enjoyed of someone just listening, mirroring and validating him, even if it the interview was about an exposé of psychoanalysis.

"If I were younger, one could at least try it, make an attempt but...You would really be the right woman for me. I get along with you. I don't get along with the other one, and she clings to me. Because you said that you also had gonorrhea, you caused a profound change in me."  Unfortunately for Serge, it was too late to make changes and he had a circulatory collapse. "In early July, the Wolf-Man had received his pension for two months, the monthly check and vacation money. Luise supposedly appeared abruptly at his door, he admitted her, and the meeting ended in a loud row. Finally, she simply snatched 10,000 schillings from his hand and ran off. [He] was terribly upset...During the afternoon of this very hot day, as he was coming back from the tobacco shop, he collapsed."

Serge deteriorated and Karin detailed his last days in the Vienna Psychiatric Hospital: "The Wolf-Man takes a postcard from the open drawer of his nightstand and hands it to me. Here's what Luise writes to a deathly ill, ninety-year-old man who, confined to his bed, is constantly fighting for his breath.

'My dear Serge, I have heard that you are already feeling much better, that your appetite is good and that you can already wash yourself. I am pleased. As you are eating with such a hearty appetite, aren't you thinking of me, that I go hungry, that I am about to be evicted if I cannot pay the rent, that the gas and electricity will be cut off if I can't pay? How can you do that to a person with whom you have spent forty years? I would like to see you, talk to you. I was already there a few times, but the attendants always tell me that that young girl is visiting you again, so I didn't want to disturb you. You must be very much in love if you ordered two flannel suits for 4,500 schillings each and pay all that money for her housekeeping expenses as you told me. Unfortunately, I have no money for stamps or letter paper. So far, I have received nothing of the royalties for August from your book The Wolf-Man by the Wolf-Man. They say you gave it to the professor so he would pass it on to me, but he demands that I pick it up at his place, which is absurd, my lawyer says, and I have it from you in writing that I would get money from Gardiner even after you die.'

[After a brief moment he mumbled,] 'The woman is crazy.'"

As Luise faded into the background during the last two years of his life, Serge had that feeling that so many people feel at the end of their lives. "Life was in vain, everything was pointless, we must build something, something new, begin at the beginning once more...Give me some advice!" His strength faded and his last gesture to Karin was a heartfelt kiss on the hand and a feeble wave before he died the next day.

Amber Heard and Johnny Depp: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aca0KWoHtqQ&t=331s

Modern psychoanalysis

"Take what you can from your dreams, make them as real as anything." - Dave Matthews

Like with many other case studies of Freud, so many disorders have genetic and early life challenges as their source. Is it OCD, Borderline and Narcissistic personality disorders, or a severe masochistic co-dependency? Or is a mixture of all of them? Using the metaphor of the childhood "lucky caul," Serge was stuck inside the veil or caul of dreams and specialness to the end, and so were his therapists who sought to make a name for themselves. By not seeing how the sense of specialness and entitlement would interfere with reality testing, the dreams and desires Serge had would fail to find realistic outlets with independent and assertive decision making, especially with choices of partners. The healthy way to attach importance to specialness is to effort. Special effort, not entitlement. The metaphorical veil or caul is ruminating about possibilities and dreaming about changing the past. Being stuck in painful thoughts while remaining inactive leads to a habit of inhibition.

Serge's past may have looked like a heaven with beautiful estates, servant women, and a sense of entitlement to a great future. It could easily add to the sense of specialness. But when you are at the end of your life, the memories of what actually happened can bring up the question "what if?" He attempted to get his fortune away from Russia, but the inflationary pressures of war diminished it. With his sister's and his wife's suicides, and possibly his father's, the mind could easily think "what if I did this or said that? Maybe they wouldn't have taken their lives." Once the past can't be changed, and in the end, depression never left completely, all that was left for Serge was the hope to "begin at the beginning once more." What motivations would he have needed to make difference choices when he was younger? Most importantly, what was so pathogenic that he couldn't have made better choices?

Nicolas Abraham and Maria Torok, in The Wolf Man's Magic Words: A Cryptonymy, engaged in an abstract word analysis of all the players in the Serge's psychoanalysis, and interpreted the wolf dream as the father having incest with his daughter Anna, and Serge being a witness. The English Governess is told by Serge what had happened and she uses it as blackmail to torture Serge and his family. Serge then oscillated between desiring Anna and imitating her, which would be desiring the father in the latter. He would also have knowledge that could hurt both his parents. This theory, and it's only a theory, brings up a lot of questions. If his father committed suicide, was it because he abused his daughter? Was it because of the political changes he saw in Russia? Was it because he had manic depression? Or is it a combination? Also if instead, Masson and Brunswick were right about Serge being sexually abused, and possibly groomed to desire anal stimulation [anally seduced], both cases could lead Serge to imitate a passive sexual choice. If Serge felt shame about those impulses, then his lack of self-worth and need for repression would continue. A false self that is beyond shame would have to be developed as a protection against a pathogenic secret. The pathogen could be an array of possibilities supported by these theories. For example, shame over wanting to be like Anna, shame over wanting Anna, shame over wanting his father, shame over wanting to be his mother, and shame over wanting to give or receive anal sex. In the end, whatever combination, it would lead ultimately to shame over socially unacceptable sexual desires. Since this "crypt" of a false self in Serge's mind is hiding a body of pathogenic shame, and most importantly, it's somehow unconscious, then he did not recover because his pathogenic secret remained a secret, even to himself. The coffin remains shut and the Russian Iistina, or hidden truth, remains hidden. If on the other hand, this secret was conscious all along, but he did not want to share the information for obvious reasons, he would have to take what he learned from Freud's work and heal himself, if he didn't trust anyone else.

For example, if he read and understood Remembering, repeating and working-through, and if he could see his sexual appetite as a worthy foundation that could go beyond a sister template, then maybe that knowledge could help him identify with different relationship choices and he could avoid choices like being with "Luise." To grow better crops, so to say. In his interviews with Obholzer, he clearly identifies his sister as an object choice, identifies Karin as a good example and even admits that if he were younger he would pursue her. Though this could appear insulting because his template includes an aggressive sister, women with less power, prostitutes and "Luise." Yet reading those interviews with Karin, even if she's aggressive with trying to land an exposé, one gets the impression that she was desired by Serge because he enjoyed being with a woman who listened and accepted him. She accepted his having gonorrhea and his masturbation as normal. That made him feel better. Feeling better, meaning less stress. The stress was caused by some pathogenic desire that he was ashamed of, whether it was a desire for his sister or desires from one of the theories above or else something he never communicated. Shame, we have to remember is a fear of rejection from important social contacts.

Too much shame means you accept bad people in your life you think you deserve, which stops further development. The low self-esteem made him desperate enough to choose mostly one-night-stands, women who had little in common with him, women with less power and prostitutes. He also chose Therese when she really needed his help financially, after the condolence letter reintroduced them to each other. Therese, despite being suicidal, ended up being the best woman for him and even warned against another improper choice, which he ended up choosing. Self-esteem becomes a necessity so you can choose people who care about you, and of course you have to do the same for them, so that as a couple the individuals have permission to improve themselves. Obholzer pointed out before that Serge lacked the assertiveness to ask for what is good for him. If he wanted to look for further methods from Freud, if he read about his letter to Ferenczi, about how he was able to increase his ego by dropping homosexual friendship with Fliess, it happened naturally with disenchantment. Fliess did malpractice on Emma Eckstein's face and Freud distanced himself from him. Serge would have to be disenchanted with his toxic relationship template before he could find a replacement. Since so many women he was involved with didn't want to improve themselves, he would have to be disenchanted by them and move on, while also developing himself. There's really no reason, even for a criminal, to not improve themselves if they believe they have a foundation for different choices. Regardless of dream therapy and it's value, one has to accept oneself and be disenchanted with people who don't allow that. Who's supporting your goals for self-improvement, and who's not? Either your biology prevents improvement, in which case you must accept, or it's just the ideas about yourself that need to change. People have to experiment with their choices to see what's possible for them and not rely on beliefs.

With scandals of people thinking their parents sexually abused them because of Freudian analysis, with some cases being true, but others not, how accurate of a method is it for courts? Like Mahony says about Abraham and Torok's theory of father and sister incest, "coherence is not proof." If some people are capable of passing a lie detector test, and the results are not admitted in all court systems, then certainly dreams could be open to lies and manipulation by so many people. At best dream analysis can help the patient if convincing memories return. They may get a relief where they are able accept what happened, grieve and move on with their life. Phenomenology can only be accessed through the subjective, but unless there is concrete evidence that is objectively available, the whole process moves back onto patient and only they can benefit, since only they can experience their memories. The reader can choose to believe, or leave a question mark for these dream analyses. The memories of the patient must resonate clearly with no skepticism, otherwise it becomes a form of brainwashing where the patient has to believe. 

The biggest question is that if bringing something up into consciousness is supposed to create relief, that may not be the case. Many abuses are not in the unconscious and the patient is very aware of what happened. They don't talk about it because of possible stigma. For example, if the accusations from Brunswick and Masson were true, and the abuse was conscious, who would want to talk about how their anus was groomed to enjoy sexuality and now impulses are being fought over with repression? Anal flashbacks that are conditioned to repeat impulses and desire for anal pleasure, that are also conscious, would continue to cause stress if the patient ruminates on it and what it means in an obsessive way. When something is conscious, guilt and rumination cause their own problems. Serge was aware of his desire for his sister, but it still influenced him even when conscious. Some people go through horrendous abuse that is unconscionable, but they are still able to thrive. Others go through no abuse, or less abuse, and are psychologically compromised very easily. There could be genetic factors with that. And finally, anybody going through two World Wars, family suicides, and a loss of a fortune, are going to be consciously traumatized. No therapy will bring those people back.

Another area that only René Girard tackled in a major way, is what happens if you remove your transference to God, or imitation of Jesus? His warning is that we can just imitate the people around us and that's exactly what happened to Serge. From an atheistic perspective, if Serge wanted to be independent of a father figure, then he would have to consciously not worship a God, another human being, or himself. Now that is a difficult meditation practice! In reality most people have a hope for a loving God, even if it's not aimed at a particular religion, and many people have role models for success. That means social exchanges of trust. Those social exchanges have to be done carefully to avoid exploitation. Like Karin pointed out, if people are making suggestions for you, you have to ask "what do I really want?" Without the ability to negotiate, predators can take everything away from you.

I like Mahony's description of how challenging a patient like this would be for any therapist, in any modality. "The total profile of the Wolf Man's analyses constituted a muddled picture. True, a marriage replaced the flight from woman, and the defective capacity to work gave way to the successful [completion] of a doctor's degree in law and employment for over thirty years in an insurance position. There will surely be those who will criticize psychoanalysis for its technical limitations because of the psychic distress and disorder that stayed on with the Wolf Man: though the depression, guilt, ambivalence, compulsive doubt, and narcissistic demands were abated variously at times, their overall force remained considerable. Whatever shortcomings obtained in the analyses conducted by Freud and Brunswick...I do not think that the best-directed therapy could have sufficiently rehabilitated the severely defective psychic organization and narcissistic structure of the Wolf Man or compensated for the lack of early parental care. He is one of those tragic individuals who remain forever inside a gaping wound and whose hopes grow mostly in lonely dreams." 

Manchester by the sea - "I can't beat it": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAcYyreYFyk

Resources:

The Wolfman and other cases - Sigmund Freud: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780142437452/

The Wolf Man by the Wolf Man - Sergei Pankejeff, Ruth Mack Brunswick, Muriel Gardiner, Anna Freud: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780465091973/

The Wolf Man: 60 years later - Karin Obholzer: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780710093547/

The Cries of the Wolf Man - Patrick J. Mahony: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780823610907/

Freud Standard Edition Vol 12: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780701205256/

The Correspondence of Sigmund Freud and Sándor Ferenczi, Volume 1: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780674174184/

The Assault on Truth - Jeffrey Masson: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780345452795/

The Wolf Man's Magic Words: A Cryptonymy - Nicolas Abraham & Maria Torok: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780816648580/

Freud and the Rat Man - Patrick J. Mahony: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780300036947/

Violent Origins: Ritual Killing and Cultural Formation - Walter Burkert, Jonathan Z. Smith, René Girard, Robert G. Hammerton-Kelly, Renato Rosaldo, Burton Mack: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780804715188/

The War that ended Peace - Margaret MacMillan: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780143173601/

The First World War - John Keegan: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780676972245/

The Origins of the War of 1914 - Luigi Albertini: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9781929631261/

Lothane, H. Z. (2018). Freud Bashers: Facts, Fictions, and Fallacies. Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association, 66(5), 953–969.

Homosexuality Anxiety: A Misunderstood Form of OCD - Monnica Williams: https://www.psychologytoday.com/sites/default/files/attachments/72634/williamshocd2008.pdf

Misusing Freud: Psychoanalysis and the Rise of Homosexual Misusing Freud: Psychoanalysis and the Rise of Homosexual Conversion Therapy - Jonathan Barrett: https://digitalscholarship.unlv.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1027&context=psi_sigma_siren

How do I know I'm really not gay? Fred Penzel: https://iocdf.org/expert-opinions/homosexual-obsessions/

Sigmund Freud urged his disciple to divorce: https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1987-11-12-vw-20532-story.html

The Master's mad move: https://www.theguardian.com/books/1999/jan/30/sigmundfreud

Conditions for intuitive expertise: a failure to disagree. Daniel Kahneman, Gary Klein Am Psychol. 2009 Sep; 64(6): 515–526

Alan Cumming Is Bisexual — And You Might Be Too: https://www.advocate.com/bisexuality/2015/03/30/alan-cumming-bisexual-and-you-might-be-too

Alan Cumming Sounds Off On Being Bisexual And Being Married To A Man: https://www.huffpost.com/entry/alan-cumming-bisexual-_n_4460070

Psychology: http://psychreviews.org/category/psychology01/

#sergeipankejeff #the wolfman #sigmund freud #castration anxiety #hocd #bisexuality #homosexuality

[talesofpassingtime]

Psycho-analysis, however, returns to this extremely ancient standpoint when it treats all tender and sensual relations of the man to his own or to the opposite sex, emotional feelings towards friends, relatives and fellow-creatures generally, even the affective behaviour towards one’s own ego and body, partly under the rubric “erotism”, otherwise “sexuality”.

Dr. Sándor Ferenczi, Psycho-Analysis and the War Neuroses

#literature #Sandor Ferenczi #Psycho-Analysis and the War Neuroses

[proudestmoment1]

stefan hollós and s. ferenczi: psychoanalysis and the psychic disorders of general paresis

The “deep chasm” which Jaspers maintains, and the “differentiation principle” which Kretschmer would strongly make, betray a cramp-like effort to hold on to the several still strong forts of “organic psychiatry.” But this attempt at explanation of the relationships between the organic diseases on the ground that simple changes here represent “gross interference in brain processes,” certainly would be all too dogmatic. For does there really exist an insurmountable chasm between “functional” and “organic”? This assumption would betray, as Freud in his “Traumdeutung” says, a slender confidence on the part of the psychiatrist in causal connections between the bodily and the psychic.

#sandor ferenczi #stefan hollos #paresis #symptom #functional symptom #organic psychiatry #psychoanalysis #psychosis

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (7)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. mentions of the following (abortion, cheating, suicide, depression, illness, physical abuse, death), smoking, alcohol/intoxication, suggestive smut

notes. 20.3k words hello ?? and it’s a bit angsty maybe. i hope u enjoy and tysm if you’re still here despite my slow updates :’( likes and reblogs will be appreciated! also lmk how u guys feel abt this episode ;)

series masterlist -> episode eight

2 DAYS AGO

Sleep just didn’t exist in Satoru’s vocabulary anymore and it came to a point where none of the sleeping pills still worked as they should. He could barely remember the last time he had been able to rest comfortably, falling into a deep, peaceful slumber without being cannonaded by recurring nightmares that triggered most, if not all, of his traumatic childhood experiences. And since there was an enormous disparity between dreams and reality, Gojou believed that the reason he was losing his mind at the flashback of his memories was because he knew, deep inside him, that he wanted some of it to remain just as a figment of his imagination. Not an actual memory from an unbearable past, but a mere phantasm that held no long term effect on his current relationships. Why, if it would only ruin his life, should he accept the truth behind his sudden flood of memories?

According to Sigmund Freud’s theory on defense mechanisms, a person tends to unconsciously cling to psychological strategies so that they could protect themselves from having unacceptable thoughts or feelings. After a really traumatizing experience, our instinct is to put up a wall and keep ourselves isolated from the external force behind that barrier, which will then allow us to cope with the situation better even if it means distorting our realities to fit what is satisfactory to the human mind.

To make it simple: Gojou’s defense to his depressive flashbacks was to dissociate from the world by sugarcoating the graveness of the matter.

At first, when Satoru recalled the melancholic truth about his life for the past three years, he almost thought that he could actually go insane. Nanami and Miwa took him home that day, and required the presence of his mother to help calm him down while he was on the cusp of self-destruction. He had a breakdown as he screamed and cried about how he was made to believe that his son died, how he was forced to accept that his wife never carried their only child, and how the aforementioned reasons led him to his multiple attempts at committing suicide. It was cruel. He wanted to understand why you did that. He wanted to run to your house and demand an answer as to why you would lie to him like that. He wanted you to go on your knees and beg for his forgiveness. He wanted to destroy you for depriving him of a chance to be there to hear his son’s first word or guide him in his first steps. He wanted to know why you would take all that away from him.

And then he remembered who he was as a person before you made all those ‘selfish’ decisions.

If not for his mother, Nanami, and even Akemi who were with him all night trying to soothe him from the distress that he was going through, he wasn’t sure what he would have said and done if he did face you that night while he was still apoplectic about the return of his most devastating memories.

You see, there is a type of defense mechanism proposed by Sandor Ferenczi that is referred to as the ‘identification with the aggressor’ which—to put it simply—is the act of adopting the behavior of the person who abused them. When Satoru finally cooled off two days after his explosive episode as a volcano, the first thing he did was to visit ‘the aggressor’ that started all of this chaos in his life. The very father who lay still on his bed, forever dormant, living a monotonous and passive existence as though he was only waiting for death.

“Why are you still alive, Dad?” Greeting his father that way after not seeing him for three years should speak a lot about the kind of family dynamics they had. But Satoru was the calmest he had been for the past 48 hours, so the old man was still lucky that he wasn’t on the receiving end of his unfiltered rage. “You must be happy right now, huh? Your fucked up son has a broken family. You probably don’t even know that you have a grandson.”

As he stood next to his father’s bed, he eyed how the only things that were supporting his life were a tank of oxygen and a nasogastric tube. Ironic, wasn’t it? While granted that he had everything, he still couldn’t do anything but just die peacefully. The old man had all the money, status, and power in life, yet none of those were of much help when karma finally arrived to make him pay his dues. The man beat up his wife so much to the point of driving her away, forcing her to abandon a son who was left at the hands of an abusive father. The asshole didn’t just stop there. He also manipulated his son into thinking that he would never be acknowledged as the rightful heir of the Gojou Group if he didn’t fool and marry an innocent woman for the sake of acquiring their company. Satoru had choices in life and he shouldn’t blame his choices on another person when he himself decided on them. However, given that his father was a ruthless, selfish man, there wouldn’t have been an arranged marriage to begin with. There wouldn’t have been a spiteful son whose only way of coping from trauma was by being cold and heartless to the people he identified as the perpetrator of his suffering. If only his father truly loved his family in the beginning, none of this would have happened.

“How do you live each day knowing that your son hates you, Dad?” he asked the quadriplegic man, glaring down at him despite the tears that streamed down on the corner of his father’s eyes. He may not be able to move his limbs or open his mouth, but his eye movements were clear to Satoru that the man was tearful at the sight of his only son. “How do you live without guilt knowing that you physically abused both my mom and I?”

The said mother was on his side, caressing Satoru’s back in a motherly comfort. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Clenching his hands into fists, he wanted to return the violent strikes that his father used to inflict on him. Satoru wanted to leave bruises on his father’s vegetative body to feel that sense of retribution by making him feel the same type of physical, mental, and emotional distress that he had to go through because of him. After all, why should he feel sorry? He had all the right to go ballistic on him. Because of the kind of environment that he grew up in, Satoru himself adopted his father’s behavior and ended up abusing the woman he loved, although not physically, but emotionally.

It was about time that Satoru recognized his own shortcomings. He needed to acknowledge that the things he had done to you couldn’t be easily forgotten. Abuse didn’t just come in a physical form, but also emotionally and psychologically. The scar on his forearm was the perfect exemplification of the effect his actions had on you—of how he lacerated his arm and left a gash on his flesh, but despite the antiseptic gauze that temporarily covered his wounds, the scar would remain with him forever. Although in your case, that same scar was deep in your heart.

But… but… why put Sachiro in the middle of all of this?

You never truly ended up forgiving your husband. That, he could understand. But why did you have to let his son be fatherless for three years? You knew how much Satoru loved your baby when he was still in your womb. You knew how much he would offer his whole life just to nurture you and dote on you. Even if you were angry at him, you didn’t have to stage the termination of your pregnancy.

So… why?

“Satoru,” his mother called for his attention and tried to unclench his balled fist, patting his back and leading him to sit on a nearby couch, “Even if you wanna hit your father, it’s useless. Look at how he’s being punished for his sins. He’s forever paralyzed and unable to do anything but listen to you.”

Looking at his limp father whose eyes still continued to release faint tears, Satoru eventually had to let his anger cease for a moment. His mom was right on that one. What she wasn’t right about was her participation in lying to him about the divorce and the abortion. “You.” He looked up at his mother as those questions dominated his mind. “Why did you make her lie to me about the divorce?”

The woman drew in a deep breath and stood defensively. “We didn’t have much choice. Your doctor said that we should avoid triggering certain memories that could be detrimental to your state of mind,” she tried her best to explain, “We only did it for your sake, my son. You woke up remembering Y/N as your wife, so we couldn’t just tell it straight that you weren’t together anymore. You were very fragile.”

But still… “What about the abortion?” he questioned, finding it hard to swallow the sickening thought. “I nearly killed myself thinking that I lost my child, yet you knew that she kept him? You were aware that she’s been hiding him away from me—”

“No, darling, no. Mom only found out about it on the day of your accident. That’s the reason why you crashed your car because you called me after you knew about it.” His mother approached him in a restless stance, seemingly wanting to clear her name. “My son, listen carefully to me. None of us knew about it except her, her family, and your so-called friend, Ieiri. They all hid it from you. They made us believe that Sachiro never even existed.”

“But why?” Satoru could feel himself being pulled down by the gravitational force of his pain. “I understand that she wanted to run away from me, but why did she have to fake my child’s death? Sachiro’s just a baby. She didn’t have to do that, Mom. I’m never gonna hurt my son.”

They said nothing was more comforting than being in the arms of your mother. Satoru realized how true that statement was when his mom embraced him and tried to pacify his growing ire. “I know. I know you wouldn’t do that,” she reassured, “I know how much you love your son. This is why you shouldn’t let this slide, Satoru. Let Y/N know that she’s not the only victim here.”

Her words made him pull away in discombobulation. “What do you mean?”

“She took your son away from you,” she pointed out as if Satoru should have already known what she meant by it, “She manipulated you into thinking that she had an abortion so you wouldn’t keep holding onto her. She did it out of spite even if she says otherwise. She’s selfish. Do you know how much it devastated me to see you hurting yourself over and over because you were made to believe her lies? I’ve had to wake up each day with this fear in my mind wondering what would happen if I leave you alone by yourself. I’ve even had to isolate you from everyone just to make sure that you can focus on healing on your own!”

Satoru was silenced on his seat, about six feet apart from his father’s bed. Surely, the old man could hear everything and he was even closing his eyes as though his son’s life was too pitiful for him. “I didn’t think Y/N would do something like this…” said your ex-husband, meeting his mom’s eyes once more. “I just don’t think she’d do this. Even if I gave her enough reason, she’s not the type of person who—”

“You underestimated her,” she countered, “Satoru, you have to accept the sad truth. Y/N isn’t as perfect as you think she is. She’s just as flawed as you. She took three years of your son’s life away from you. Do you understand that? You can’t let this one go. Don’t try to palliate her actions by saying you did worse.”

Then, what should he do? He was barely even processing the miscellany of his tragic fate. His mind was in turmoil. His heart was torn in shreds. A heavy sigh was expected to escape out of his lips as he thought the situation through. “How do I deal with this, Mom?”

Unlike him, she was resolute in her decision as though she had been waiting for this day. “File for a custody case.” The advice came from the same mother who once abandoned him. “Japan only grants full custody, so you have all the right to take Sachiro away from her, too.”

The moment you had been dreading for was here.

With only a single paper and a few words, Satoru Gojou had yet again managed to annihilate your whole world.

You told yourself that you were ready for this. That you were prepared for the day when his memories would come back. That you wouldn’t be shaken once he brings up the fact that you kept Sachiro’s existence from him all this time. You already visualized those scenes in your mind and calculated what things you were going to say or what actions you were going to take—everything was thoroughly considered for your advantage because you were aware that the return of his memories would have a massive blow on your situation as a divorced couple with an only child.

And yet, after reading the entire document of his plea for full custody, you didn’t think that Satoru could still pulverize every inch of you into minuscule fragments. Aside from filing a criminal complaint against you for lying about the abortion, he had also requested for your complete exclusion in receiving any inherent rights towards your son. Your son. Your only son. The son you carried for nine months while you were on the median between life and death. The son you raised alone in a foreign city while juggling between your career and maternal responsibilities. The son who—despite not having seen his father since the day he was born—was still very welcoming of him because you never truly excluded Satoru from the picture.

You did believe in karma, but how come you were always receiving the bad and never the good?

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay,” Ian reassured after having read the full document. Your hands were shaking, fingers twitching spastically as they sought out anything that they could hold onto. The pain in your chest was so excruciating that you wanted to just faint in order to stop the unwanted sensation. However, for your brother-in-law who was clearly concerned about your growing anxiety, he was doing his best to appease your sensitive emotions. “It’s okay. I’m gonna investigate this document and I’ll get you the best lawyers from the firm. You’re still at an advantage, Y/N.”

“That’s not the point!” you cried, chest heaving from your oncoming surge of tears. The point was, you fooled yourself into thinking that maybe Satoru would understand. You deluded yourself into believing that Satoru’s unfeigned love for you was enough that he would rather talk it out first instead of slapping a custody paper on your face. How wrong could you be? “I gotta go talk to him. H-He can’t do this to me… He can’t destroy me like this all over again…”

“Y/N, that’s not a good idea—”

Your mind was running just as fast as your legs were. Despite your unstable breathing and arrhythmic heartbeat, you ignored every other feeling except for the strong impulse to confront the spiteful father of your child about the war he was declaring between you both. It didn’t matter how distraught you looked nor how scandalous it would be for you to even have the guts to face him. It didn’t matter if tears were filling your eyes nor if your lips had become the same color as your skin. You looked desperate, but for your son, you would do anything.

Sachiro was all on your mind when you drove through the freeway at 100 mph. His innocent smile was all on your mind when you swerved through the lane and overtook cars on a busy road. Your baby’s cheerful blue eyes were all on your mind when you finally arrived at the central business district after receiving confirmation from Miwa that her boss was in his office today.

Among the curious gazes of his employees when you entered the lobby, it was mostly the receptionists who were particularly taken aback by your sudden appearance, going as far as ordering the security team to stop you from dashing towards the express elevator at your freewill. “Miss, I’m sorry but Mr. Gojou doesn’t accept visitors at the moment,” one of them said, shoving your lack of privilege in their boss’ company building now, “He’s pretty strict about this. You have to set a schedule with him first.”

“Don’t you know who I am?” you asked through gritted teeth, “If you do, then I suggest you back off or else you and I are gonna have a problem.”

“But Ms. L/N, wait!”

You weren’t intending to cause a scene, but there was barely enough room in your system to store all of your remaining patience while you were potentially about to lose your rights over your son. They could call you crazy however they want. They could label you dramatic for your desperation to speak to your ex-husband. They could gossip about how you had the audacity to barge into their chairman’s office during business hours without prior notice. They could even claim that you were using your name and status to bypass their security measures. The fact here was; none of them truly knew the real reason why you were in the c-suite floor of the Gojou Group, stomping through the corridors and ignoring all the staff who tried to call for your name. You were far too fixated on your purpose that everyone else was blurred out in the background—everyone except the man you once exchanged vows with.

And there he was, moving away from his desk as soon as you stepped a foot into his office. There he was—the contemptuous ex-husband who could destroy your entire life even if he had to exhaust all of his resources—ridding himself of his paperworks and standing a few meters away while his electric blue eyes studied the animosity in your countenance. He had his hands inside his pockets, keeping an austere mien with the backdrop of slate gray skies behind him. Wasn’t it funny? This office was where it both started and would probably end; where you two created Sachiro and where you two would fight over the sole custody of him.

“Close the door and leave us be,” was the solemn order he said to Miwa so that no prying ears would be able to hear what words would soon be exchanged between Japan’s most controversial divorcé and divorcée. “What are you doing here?”

As soon as his secretary shut the door, you dropped your poise and truly lost it. You were losing it. All of your trauma, your fears, your repressed feelings, and your vulnerabilities were all coming out as if you were vomiting words and emotions along with your tears. They were pouring out of you like water would on a shattered glass bottle. It was your fear of losing your son that made you reach your breaking point, tearing you asunder as you imagined what your life would become if he did take your son away. Perhaps this was the very reaction he wanted out of you.

“How could you do this to me?!” Maybe it was because you were overwhelmed by the tide of negative emotions, but you were already hysterical by the time you slammed your feeble limbs on his chest, completely in despair as he looked at you in agonizing silence. “H-How can you do this, Satoru? I’d rather y-you hate me, hurt me, or yell at me like you always did, but this…” Your voice weakened just as your body did. “Why are you doing this?”

He responded to your breakdown by presenting a businesslike mien. “What are you crying about?”

“Don’t be cruel!” you raised your voice and pushed him off. Your body grew so tense to the point of shaking—your breathing became ragged, your movements were frenzied. As for him, all he did was stare at your glistening eyes in confusion. “You have no right to do this to me! You m-made me suffer enough while we were married, and now you… you… I hate you!”

“Y/N—”

“You’re so heartless, Satoru. Y-You’re so damn heartless!”

“Y/N, listen—”

“Just hate me all you want, b-but don’t take my son away from me!” you wailed; your vision blurring due to the accumulation of tears in your eyes, “Do you want me to beg on my knees like you did? I-Is that it? I’ll do it for my son, just please… I’m sorry for hiding him. I’m sorry for lying about the abortion. I’m sorry I-I didn’t give you a chance to be a father. If you’re mad at me, just focus on me! Don’t take my son away, Satoru. I… I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

You couldn’t understand why the father of your child was looking at you like he was the one hurting inside. You could see him softening his gaze as he placed his hands on both sides of your shoulders, keeping you steady while he attempted to lock eyes with you. “Calm down first,” he advised, measuring the despondency on your visage, “Make me understand what you mean.”

“What do you…?” How ridiculous! After taking a deep inhale to gather your last string of patience together, you wiped your dampened cheeks and shoved the document to his chest. “You sent me this! Stop fooling around!”

Satoru didn’t waste a second before he opened the document and scanned the noxious words written on the paper. You, too, were just as confused when you watched the way his eyes read through the file, how his lips were curling into a frown, and how his eyebrows were furrowed in complete bewilderment. “How’d you get a copy of this?”

Was he acting?

“You sent it.” You shot him a glare—the heavy rise and fall of your chest finally steadying. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck.” He crumpled the paper in his hands and consequently closed his eyes in frustration. “It was my mom.”

Uncertainty bathed your face, but you had to hold your breath and retain your composure. “You wrote it.”

“I did,” he admitted straightforwardly, walking to the bin and tossing the paper into it. By the time he turned around and leaned against his desk, his face was clouded with regret. “My mom was insisting on the custody claim while I was at the height of my anger, so I drafted that to release my rage, but I was never going to send it to the court.” He stopped for a moment only to let out an exasperated sigh, simultaneous to how he also massaged the frown lines on his glabella. “I told her I wasn’t gonna push through with it. She might’ve sent that to you out of spite.”

“Satoru Gojou.” You scoffed in utter disbelief. “You really expect me to believe that? After you recovered your memories of me—of us, you expect me to believe that you were rational enough not to send it? Do you also remember how many times you hurt me while you were blinded by rage?”

Your ex-husband avoided your eyes. “You don’t have to believe me,” claimed he, “But if I was truly going to file a claim, I wouldn’t have the time to explain all this to you.”

Regardless of the point he had raised, you didn’t let your guard down. “You could be lying. You could be manipulating me right now. I know you wanna destroy me. That’s what you’re good at—”

“Y/N, I know what it’s like to grow up without a mother!” Gojou took slow, but measured strides towards you. His stance wasn't threatening nor defensive, but more so a plea to understand his side of the story. “I was disgusted at myself that I even considered writing that custody letter, because how could I? No matter how angry I am with you, I still can’t stomach the thought of letting Sachiro live without his mother.” He must have noticed how the hostility in your eyes was replaced by the slightest hint of sympathy, especially the moment he mentioned his long standing issue about his mother’s absence. You hated to admit that what Satoru was saying did make sense and he was more likely not to let Sachiro be traumatized the same way he was, but part of you just couldn’t trust him anymore. Part of you was doubting his sincerity and all of the possible lies between his words as you listened to his explanations. “Y/N, I’m still so angry with you for hiding Sachiro, but how exactly could filing a custody case help me? I lost my memories and my doctor says I should still be recuperating, so why would the court grant me full parental responsibility when I’m clearly unfit to care for my child?”

You silently inhaled and took in enough air to fill your lungs. “I just don’t believe you’d have all the time to consider this and think it through. You used to always tell me that I’ll pay for the repercussions.”

“I used to,” he agreed, “But I learned how fucking cruel I was. I learned it the hard way after I lost you.”

Before the topic could touch another painful subject, you decided to present a rigid façade and redirected the conversation back to your son. “So, what do you plan to do?”

Satoru made way towards the ceiling-to-floor window and let his unhappy eyes stare at the Tokyo cityscape. For a moment, there was silence. It wasn’t antagonistic nor was it filled with an air of estrangement. It was more of a silence full of heartaches and internal battles until he eventually gathered his emotions back together. “First, I wanna know why you lied about the abortion,” his voice broke in the middle of the sentence, but he refused to let you see the heartbreak on his face as he recalled certain memories in his head, “I was screaming in that hospital, you know? I’m not sure if you heard it, but I felt like I was the one dying when they told me that you wanted to have our baby taken out. I felt like… I felt like I was being killed over and over again thinking about how I was the reason our baby wasn’t given the chance to live.”

You felt a deep ache in your bones because you did remember how he screamed outside of the door, crying and begging for you not to ‘kill his baby’. You remembered how you endured hearing his breakdown and how everyone was insensitively asking for him to leave and get over it. How it was his fault. Or how he should have seen it coming. The memory brought an awful clutch in your chest knowing that the time had finally come where you two were now unfolding the truth behind that cold December night. In your guilt, you explained your side as calmly and as apologetically as you could. “You wouldn’t let me leave if you knew that I kept our baby,” you began, “You would’ve wanted to stay by my side and be constantly next to me because the baby keeps us connected. At the time, I was desperate to just be away from you even for some time.” Knowing that your words might hurt him, you allowed him to digest the information before you continued to speak. “I wasn’t planning to drag that lie for three years. I wanted to tell you the truth after a year, at least until I’ve managed to get back on my own feet, but I didn’t know how to approach you. I was scared to meet you again.”

“Okay…” he easily accepted your reasoning while swallowing his weakness inside. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to say more, prove you wrong, and let you know that your decision was still not morally right despite all the factors that drove you to do it. However, it was also obvious that Satoru was protecting something—whether it was his heart or his sanity—he decided that it may be best to just accept your rationale. And by doing that, he had to forgive you. “That’s all I really wanted to understand.”

But could this be real? Could Satoru really have enough heart to forgive you easily like this? Because you were profoundly ridden by guilt, you tried to explain more. “I-I didn’t know that you’ve become suicidal after I left or that you’ve had to isolate and see a therapist because of all the trauma that you acquired. I really just… I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Gojou. I didn’t mean all of that, I just—”

“You just wanted to escape,” he finished the sentence for you and turned around with a small, but forlorn smile on his lips, “What I went through isn’t your fault. I don’t think I can blame that on you. I was the one who led you to that choice.”

You exhaled softly, feeling the extensive distance between you both despite standing only two feet apart. “In spite of that, I’ve let Sachiro know who you are. Even if I raised him alone in New York, I still made sure he knows who his father is and I gave an excuse as to why you aren’t with us at the time. I’ve always told Sachi how much you love him.”

Your ex-husband cleared his throat and restrained all other painful emotions from coming out. “Did you have a hard time giving birth to him?”

“Yes, but he was a healthy baby,” you answered, watching tears glossing over Satoru’s eyes, “He actually didn’t cry much when I first held him in my arms.”

His crestfallen face was screaming ‘I could have been there’ and ‘I could have held him’, but he was more focused on keeping himself collected in front of you. What a true businessman he was; despite identifying a capital loss right before his eyes, he was still keeping it all together in order to delegate an action plan. It no longer surprised you that your ex-husband was applying the same logic to his personal relationships. “Let’s settle on a schedule,” he offered, “How do you feel about co-parenting?”

What was unbelievable about this was the fact that he was the first one to offer it. Or actually, it was more unbelievable that your conversation didn’t lead to a custody case like you initially expected. “More than happy,” was your immediate response, “Like I said, I wanna be fair to you. You can see him anytime. Just let me know.”

“I’ll have Miwa check my schedule and see if that’s okay with you.” You could sense that Satoru was putting enough effort to conceal the pain in his voice. “And I’m sorry about my mom. Just ignore the document you received today. I’ll have a talk with her about it.”

“Okay…”

“Then…”

“If we’re done here,” you insisted, preparing to leave, “I’ll go. I appreciate that you’ve been cooperative.”

So, that was it? Your efforts in coming here were worth it after all. The misunderstanding behind the custody case was all cleared out. The explanations regarding your decision to hide Sachiro were finally out in the open. The resolution to co-parent healthily was now settled. But why did it feel like there was a catch in all of this? Why did your heart feel empty as did his?

“Y/N, wait…”

There, there was definitely a catch. However, you were still walking away when he called for your name, daring not to look back as you grabbed the door handle. You didn’t want to hear him take his words back. You refused to hear him say that he was just testing you and that he was still hellbent on claiming sole custody of Sachiro. Yet just before you could twist the knob, a prickling sensation shot up your spine when you heard the next words coming out of your ex-husband’s mouth. Contrary to your assumptions, it wasn’t about Sachiro nor was it about anything concerning his parental rights. It was about you.

“I love you.”

Your stomach contracted into a tight ball. “...Satoru.”

And as you turned around to look at him, he was already heading towards you with the most heartrending expression you had ever seen on his face. It exceeded the miserable state he was in when you first announced the divorce on the Gojou Group’s anniversary. It surpassed the despair in his eyes when you met him on the day of your wedding with Toji. His visage was a mixture of yearning, regret, and dejection—something that was expected of an ex-husband whose memories of the divorce were still fresh on his mind.

But what was more pitiful now was how he swallowed his pride to beg for something that he shouldn’t. “Please take me back.”

“Satoru,” you mumbled inaudibly as he had his arms wrapped around you, embracing your frame with no willingness to let go, “Satoru, stop. We’re divorced.”

You felt his tears dampening your blouse after he buried his face into your shoulder. “Please forgive me, Y/N.” The desperation in his voice made you crumble inside. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you when we were married. For lying, for cheating on you, for spouting hurtful words that you didn’t deserve, for putting you through so much pain to the point where you had no other choice but escape. There’s nothing I can do to erase the things I did to you and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” He tightened his hug around your body and pressed his forehead against yours. Only then did you see the loneliest blues that made up his eyes. “It d-doesn’t matter to me now that you lied about the abortion and that you hid my son for three years. I-I’ll turn a blind eye on all of it, just please… Please come back to me. Our home feels so empty without you.”

Seeing how Gojou was a complete emotional mess to you right now, you suddenly forgot what your expectations were when you decided to barge in his office and confront him about his appeal for custody. Frankly, you thought that the conversation would end up becoming so intense that you would have an explosive exchange of words, yelling at each other about who was hurting more than who, and slamming whatever breakable things could help release the rage you had for one another. You expected that he would even ask his bodyguards to drag you away, telling you that you were trespassing his property since you were no longer his wife. The old Satoru you knew would have spitefully and unforgivably demonized you for your mistakes, inflicted pain on you with his piercing words, and have you drown yourself in anguish as you deserved.

You didn’t expect that the conversation would turn out like this at all—where he was crying in front of you instead of yelling, where he was begging for you to take him back instead of calling you out for leaving him without a word. No, this was not what you expected and you were practically speechless as you pulled yourself away from him.

“We can’t,” you reiterated earnestly, “I’m with Toji now.”

Gojou swallowed his pride and wiped his eyes. “I know. You don’t have to break up with him,” he insisted, “You can keep seeing him behind my back and I won’t get mad at you for it. Hurt me like I hurt you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“As long as our family can be together again, that’s enough for me. Please.”

Instead of giving in, all that you could give was a sigh. It was absurd, if you were being real. The man who broke you was right here offering himself to be broken the same you did. He was here giving you a go signal to cheat on him so long as you would accept him back into your life. He was here doing everything he could to bring his family back together. If you were still ‘you’ back when you were his altruistic, submissive wife, you would have said yes. You would have hugged him and told him that you would let him in your heart again.

But things had changed just as you did, too.

And while you kept that in mind, you also recalled the recent things Gen had told you.

‘This is exactly why you can’t live with Satoru! You’re so fucking spineless! You have no backbone when it comes to him!’

‘You need to stand up for yourself instead of letting Gojou have this much influence on your life!’

Wrong. She was wrong, because as you stood in front of Satoru who was offering his whole world just to make you a part of his again, your choice was the opposite of what they all thought about you.

“I’m sorry,” you said to your ex-husband, gripping his wrists and pulling them away from your body. “We already agreed to co-parent, Satoru. Let’s just stick with that. You and I, we need to start living separate lives.”

Nothing but pain masked his face. “It’s because of Toji, huh? Is it because you love him?”

You looked away. “I do. I love him,” you professed, being reminded of the argument you had with Toji a few nights ago. This was the perfect opportunity to establish your past and present, with Toji being the present and Satoru being the past. You only had one choice among the two.. “He’s everything to me and I want my future to be with him.”

The reason why you couldn’t even have the courage to peek at Satoru’s face was because you knew, just by his voice alone, that he was falling apart. “Are you happy?”

I’m sorry, Satoru. “Without you, I will be.”

Gojou had to place a hand against the wall to support the surge of pain that was eating him away. He was holding onto that concrete wall as if it would collapse because you bulldozed his heart without so much of a warning. Did he expect that you would say otherwise? After everything, maybe he did have hope that you could still be together in the end. He may still be hoping that the two of you could love again. He was still holding onto you because he had no one else to hold onto. The only possible way for him to accept reality was for you to let him go.

“Satoru, let’s move on,” you said, voice quivering in the middle of your sentence, “I hope you’ll meet someone new. Someone you’ll love and respect. Someone you can protect and comfort. Someone you will cherish and value for the rest of your life.” You hid the drumbeat of pain inside your chest. “That person isn’t me anymore.”

This was the closure you both needed—something that you didn’t get to have three years ago.

And while it seemed that it took a few seconds, minutes, hours, days, and forever in his head to accept the outcome of your failed marriage, at the end of it all, he had to respect your decision.

“Okay,” he somberly answered, turning away and gesturing towards the door, “You can leave.”

After paying a quick visit to his mom in jail, Yuuta’s next destination was to the Gojou Group to let his stepbrother know that he would be flying back to America soon. It might take several months before he comes home again, so it was best for him to see everyone just before he would leave. He wasn’t sure if he could even return home during the holidays because he would be too busy in his last academic year in Harvard and he had to put 100% of his focus into his studies. As much as it was grueling to hear, all of his efforts were building up to a more rewarding future, and that was to run a multinational conglomerate alongside his stepbrother.

On the other hand, maybe he wasn’t really in luck today. He was curious to see why there was such a commotion in the lobby when he came to the office this morning, and just imagine his surprise when he saw you arguing with the employees and flouncing towards the elevator while telling the bodyguards that you had to speak with your ex-husband. The unusual pugnacity in your stance made Yuuta step back and decide that it might not be good for him to barge in and see the chairman. Whatever it was that you had to talk to Satoru about, it must be of serious concern because it wasn’t in your nature to show even the slightest bit of aggression in your mien.

So that was how he found himself heading straight to the airport with Miwa who was kind enough to see him off as she promised. Although she still had four hours left at work, Nanami allowed her to leave early since Satoru was still too preoccupied with his marital predicament, which means that the chairman would most likely spend the rest of the day focusing on how to resolve his issues with you.

“I can’t even say goodbye to nii-san,” said Yuuta, carrying a shearling jacket over his left arm while holding his passport and boarding ticket with his right hand. They were strolling through the waiting area as he and Miwa made their way to the first class lounge. “Please give me an update about him whenever you can.”

For some reason, his stepbrother’s secretary had been silent throughout the drive to the airport. He could even count the very limited number of eye-to-eye contacts that they have had. And even as she talked, she was doing her best to look away. “Don’t worry too much, Yuuta-kun. We’ll make sure to look after him.”

“I know you will.” He offered a smile and led her inside the lounge. “I just hope whatever it is that he’s going through with Y/N-san, they’ll still find a way to reconcile. If not for themselves, then at least for Sachiro.”

Miwa held back a sigh, but slumped her shoulders nonetheless. “Did you get to see Sachi yesterday?”

He responded by shaking his head. “No, sadly. I might piss off nee-chan’s family if I dared to visit their mansion. They consider me a Gojou, you know.”

“I guess that’s true. They also have a bad history with your mom.”

“Everyone hates my mom. That’s understandable.” Yuuta found his spot on one of the leather sofas inside the luxurious facility where the symphonious orchestrations of classical music was playing from a distance, providing a very upscale experience for its more-privileged passengers. Remembering Nanami’s words in mind, all he needed was a glass of Chardonnay to feel like a wealthy executive on a business trip. The thought of it made him laugh. “I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.”

The blue-haired girl sat quite a distance away from him as she replied. “For what?”

He moved his index finger in a circular motion, referring to the whole place itself. “This. The fancy lifestyle and all the exclusive perks that came with it. It still feels weird to me, surprisingly,” he opened up, leaning his nape on the headrest and tilting his face towards Miwa. “I wasn’t born from old money, so I experienced what it’s like to fly coach or to sleep on a gang chair waiting for my flight. But for affluent heirs and heiresses like Satoru Gojou or Y/N L/N, this kind of extravagant lifestyle is what's been ‘normal’ to them since they were children, you know? They even have the choice to fly on their own private jet. I think that’s what my mom tried so hard to achieve—erasing the part of her that identifies with the middle class and completely molding herself into this rich person who has never had a taste of hardship in life. She despises the fact that she wasn’t born into a powerful and wealthy family.”

“I’m more surprised that you didn’t acquire the kind of mindset that your mom has,” the girl admitted, almost sounding like she was amazed, “You kept yourself grounded even when you’ve been living rich since you’ve been with the Gojous.”

Yuuta smiled and observed how Miwa suddenly seemed drawn to the conversation. “Maybe because I’m not a materialistic person in general,” he supposed, “Mom thinks money can buy her happiness. I’ve always been distasteful of that logic.”

Miwa took her time to consider the thought before she gave her two cents in. “Well, your mom kinda has a point, too. Having enough money means you have more access to specific resources that not a lot of people can afford like education, healthcare, housing. If I had enough money, I probably wouldn't be dedicating twelve hours a day working for a busy person like Chairman, but I have to do it because my siblings depend on me.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I admire you for that,” he responded, sending the girl a tender gaze. “I told you this before, but I really, really do think that you’re one of the most hardworking people I’ve ever met, Miwa-chan.”

Whether she was shy or she was simply feeling awkward around him, Miwa still couldn’t let her eyes meet Yuuta’s. Instead, she was looking down at her lap while plastering a small smile. “I think Yuuta-kun is hardworking, too.”

In some days, he could say that he was. “It’s nice to talk to someone who also didn’t come from old money. It gets suffocating at some point, but I feel like I can breathe properly around you.”

His statement sparked the sudden curiosity on her face. “What about Maki-san? Does she not…”

In fact, Yuuta was just checking her phone to see if Maki had replied to his text message, only to be disappointed that his girlfriend hadn't even read the text. She must truly be busy with all of the obligatory family affairs that she had to attend to. “Maki is a Zen’in. I think her family name alone speaks for itself.” He chuckled lightly. “Of course, she’s not pressuring me or whatever, but their family pride makes me feel small sometimes. I always wonder if they’ll accept me or if I’m good enough for her or if I can guarantee my own success without trailing behind her. It’s a constant battle of self-doubt and insecurity that I often hide from her.”

Miwa nodded after having a better perspective regarding Maki and Yuuta’s relationship. “I’m more than sure that they’ll like you for who you are.”

“You really think so?” Yuuta lightly asked, pinching her nose.

Her cheeks were soon limned with a pink tint. “...You have nothing to be insecure about. I think you belong with them as much as you’re doubting yourself.”

While it was considerably unusual in this society for men to be openly insecure, Yuuta still believed that he had all the right reasons to feel so. Not only because of his upbringing, but also because he never truly felt like he could fit in anywhere. People would say he was too rich to be with the middle class, but those in the higher society would say that he didn’t originally belong to the upper class. This was an on-going issue that he had to face ever since he was adopted by the Gojou family, and only since he started living in America did he feel his own independence.

What would things be like if he had just decided to never come back to Japan?

“Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 372A to Boston. We are now inviting passengers to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.”

At the announcement of his flight, Yuuta got up and turned to his companion with a bittersweet gaze, wondering to himself when he would be able to see her again. “Miwa-chan, looks like I gotta go. Let’s keep in touch.”

She nodded just as fast, but kept her downcast eyes on the floor. “Please take care.”

“Don’t be sad,” he teased, poking the puff of her cheek with his index finger. “You’re gonna be my secretary when I come back.”

With a little less than ten minutes left to board the plane, Yuuta offered his friend a salute while watching how she was standing completely frozen on her spot. Her eyes were speaking a million words, but her mouth refused to say even a simple goodbye. Perhaps, for someone sentimental like her, there should be no goodbyes. Only ‘see you later’ or ‘until we meet again’. Even though it may take another 6 months, 10 months, or even a year or two—Yuuta knew that some way and somehow, he would be able to find her.

For now, it was time to leave this place.

And when he comes back, he hoped that his mother would finally be remorseful of her actions. He hoped that his stepbrother would be able to sort out his failed marriage. He hoped that Maki would still accept him in her life even though the distance may drive them apart. He hoped that… he hoped that…

“Yuuta-kun!”

He was already halfway through the gate when Miwa called for his name. The nervous stretch of her eyes and the small parting of her lips suggested that she was about to spill the thing that had been burdening her mind ever since he came back to Japan.

“I like you,” she confessed, leaving Yuuta stunned and speechless, “I’ve liked you for years now, but I never had the courage to tell you because you’re out of my league. All the little moments we’ve had, all the times we talked over video calls and late night chats—all of those may be insignificant to you, but I want you to know that those memories mean so much more to someone like me. You’re an incredible person and you’re such a positive influence to the people around you. I admire your humility, kindness, and optimism a lot and I hope that you’ll never, ever doubt yourself.”

Yuuta couldn’t move. “Miwa…”

“This is the final boarding call for passenger Yuuta Okkotsu booked on flight 372A to Boston. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately five minutes time. Thank you.”

Miwa’s eyes glimmered. “I’m only telling you this so that I can get it off my chest,” she added before giving a full 90 degree bow, “I want to set myself free from the feelings I have for you, so… Thank you for everything, Yuuta-kun. I wish you the best with your life in Harvard and your relationship with Maki-san.”

Coming home after the emotional exchange that you had with Gojou was worse than the encounter itself because all eyes were on you from the moment you returned to the family mansion, with most of them gauging the depth of your feelings closely, possibly wondering what had occurred between you and your ex-husband when you dramatically stormed into his office. Gen didn’t have to speak her mind. You could already hear the questions inside her head without her having to vocalize them. It was either ‘did you get swayed by him again?’ or ‘are you letting him off easily?’—whichever of the two, your sister had no intention of understanding Satoru’s side. But for you, as a courtesy for the man who tried his best to fix his broken family despite your adamant rejection, the least you could do was to finally put an end to the antagonism that he was receiving from your family.

That was the only possible way for you to co-parent healthily.

“Y/N.” It was Ian who had the courage to speak up first as soon as they met you at the bottom of the grand staircase. Your languidness seemed to have given him the wrong impression. “I checked with the court and they told me they didn’t receive any complaints from Satoru. How’d your conversation go with him?”

With your dad’s sympathetic eyes and Gen’s calculating gaze, you suppressed any other emotions from coming out except for the untroubled front that you were presenting to them. “He didn’t send the custody letter. It was his mom who did,” you said without sugarcoating the truth, “We’ve decided to co-parent.”

Your sister couldn’t put the puzzle pieces together from the obvious disconnect on your words. “Why would Auntie send it? What the hell’s her problem?” she questioned, arms crossed over her chest, “And co-parenting doesn’t exist in Japan’s law, Y/N. It’s either you will keep Sachiro or he will.”

“Well, I don’t care. I want my son to stay connected with his dad,” you snapped. “That’s my decision and not yours.”

You could surely count the number of times that you had actually answered Gen back, and although you felt bad for the way your relationship as sisters was practically ruined, you still wanted to make sure that she knew not to cross the line when you were making decisions for your son. It wasn’t you being stupid or lenient or too forgiving—it was you doing your best to make up for the time you stole between your ex-husband and his son. After all, if the tables were turned, you wouldn’t have liked it if your spouse hid your child and took three years of your motherhood away from you.

Based on how your father reacted, he seemed to have had the same understanding of the situation. “Is that what Satoru wants, darling? Just co-parent?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line before responding with utmost honesty. “At first, he wanted me to take him back so our family could be complete.”

“And?” Gen prodded. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Lucky for her, you were no longer the spineless sister that she claimed you were. “No, I officially broke it off with him. He obviously had no choice,” you answered, looking away. “Are you happy now?”

A sigh or two could be heard from your family. While as for Gen, she became more apologetic and less stern when she explained her side. “Y/N, I didn’t yell at you the other day just because I’m being petty. I said all that because I want you to protect yourself. Who else is gonna defend you but us?”

Well, it was over, anyway. You and Gojou weren’t tied anymore and he had already agreed to share parental duties while you would remain as the custodial parent. That was the best possible outcome that you could ever expect from such a broken man. “Just please, stop getting mad at Satoru,” you bargained while keeping your ex-husband in mind, “He already apologized and paid his dues. We both hurt each other, and now we’re both trying to atone and compensate for our mistakes.”

“You’re still protecting him,” Gen pointed out. “You don’t have to. You don’t need to forgive him. He wouldn’t have done the same for you.”

You decided to correct her statement. “But he did. And despite everything, I still loved him when he was my husband.”

Your father was more considerate with your feelings, however. “Just make sure you’re always choosing yourself first, okay? Dad’s here to give you advice if you need it.”

“Same here,” Ian chimed in, “Make sure that the rules you two will set in co-parenting Sachiro will still be favorable to you. You can consult me anytime if you think something isn’t fair.”

At least, contrary to your expectations, this day ended better. You managed to talk it out with Satoru without having a lawyer by your side, and now your family was also very supportive and understanding with your decision. It might seem too good to be true at the moment, but you had trust that your ex-husband would not do anything against his promises. His tears and his genuine downpour of feelings earlier were enough to tell you just how much he cared about you and your son, so you were reasonably sanguine that he would not be spiteful even after your rejection.

For now, you still had another problem and it was telling Sachiro that his parents weren’t actually together anymore.

How could you even begin to explain such a situation to a toddler? How could you open his mind to the reality that his mommy and daddy weren’t married anymore? How could you expect him to react after seeing you with another man and him with another woman?

It broke you inside that Sachiro was only 3 years of age when you had to have this talk with him. It devastated you just how innocent he was to be catapulted into the world of broken marriages, which ultimately deprived him of the happy family that he deserved to have. These thoughts were drowning you when you entered Sachiro’s playroom later that night, hesitating whether or not it was a good time to let your son know about the current setup between his parents. What was the best approach for a situation like this?

“Hi, Mama.” Your son waved his small arm at you while sitting on the mat next to his building blocks. He was completely oblivious to the hesitation in your movements when you hunkered down to meet his height. “Mama, lookie!”

You smiled at the small house he had created with the toy blocks and proceeded to shower him with praises. “Wow~! That’s amazing! Did my baby build this?”

The toddler nodded, cheerfully. “Yes, Mama. Can Sachi show Dada?”

Great. Good timing. Now that he brought up his father, you took this as an opportunity to open up the topic. “Sachi, mommy has something very important to tell you, so you listen carefully, okay?”

“Mmkay~”

Why was your heart beating so fast? Why was it pounding so loudly? You could feel beads of sweat forming on your temple. Your throat, parched. But you had to take no excuse in finally disclosing the truth to your son. “Sachi, mom and dad are…” you swallowed hard, “We’re not together anymore, but we’re still friends because of Sachi.”

Your little boy tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Why fwends, Mama? Is Dada mad at Sachi?”

“No, baby, it’s…” God, help me. “Dada loves Sachi very much, so he still talks to Mama, but because we’re not together anymore, that means he can’t live with us.”

It felt like a knife in the gut to see the way he pouted—his eyes shining with tears. “Why is Dada going away?”

“He’s not. You can still see him. You can always see him, my baby,” you immediately reassured while your child was at the peak of solving the complicated puzzle. He was too young to understand all this, but in what other way could you explain it? You sighed and continued. “It’s just that Mama and Dada aren’t together anymore.”

“But…” Sachiro shook his head in denial. “Sachi wants Mama with Dada.”

“Your Mommy and Daddy are divorced.”

The feminine voice wasn’t from Gen, but from a close friend of yours who stood by the door with a plaintive smile on her face. You didn’t know how long Ieiri had been standing there, but it seemed as if she had only decided to step in on the conversation once she saw how you were struggling to explain the situation to your son. It was only then did you realize that you really did need her help, and she was quick enough to act on it by giving you a certain look that said ‘I got this, let me help you’ before she sat down and spoke to Sachiro.

“Divorce means they’re no longer married to each other, but they still love you very much and they will always care for you,” Shoko calmly and patiently explained the situation to your child, distracting his mind by helping him put the toy blocks together—a tactic that Ieiri must have seen useful to lessen the psychological impact on Sachiro’s 3-year old brain. “Starting now, your daddy will live in the penthouse while your mommy will stay in this house. Sachi will stay with mommy, but you will still see daddy, too. Just like in New York, remember?”

Sachiro connected one block to another. “Is it… Is Dada bad for Mama?

You cleared your throat and stroked his plump cheek. “No, of course not. Dada and I will continue to be friends for you, baby. I’ll take care of you when you’re with me, and he’ll take care of you when you’re with him. I’ll read your bedtime stories, sing you to sleep, and give you bubble baths, while Dada will give you lots of hugs, play with you, and get you fried chicken.”

Ieiri let out a silent chuckle at your last line. “That’s right. Sachiro will still have both Mom and Dad.”

It was his pure innocence that led him to agree so easily. “Okay~”

But in seeing how your son initially reacted, someone might as well stab your heart with a knife over and over. Perhaps batter it with a hammer. Crush it so hard that nothing would be left but small fragments. When the inevitable day comes where Sachiro could finally understand the reality behind his parents’ marriage, you knew that his reaction would devastate you. In the first place, it would be heartbreaking to know that he was a child born from an arranged marriage. A child born only for the sake of an heir. Did Satoru even genuinely love you back then? Or was Sachiro made at the time where he was still using you for his corporate ambitions? Either way, you weren’t ready for your son to suffer from the aftereffects of your broken marriage. This was all on your mind as you went through that night, rearranging your thoughts and emotions as your friend kept you company by heading off to the balcony after you had put Sachiro to bed.

“How’d you hear about us co-parenting?” you asked Ieiri, leaning your back against the banister as she took a drag from her cigarette. Your question was in reference to how the woman found it easy to join in on the earlier conversation.

“I didn’t mean to overhear this,” she quickly clarified, blowing the puff of smoke away from you, “but Satoru called Suguru this afternoon and he said that you two decided to just co-parent after a confrontation. That’s why I figured that I should check on you and see how you’re doing.”

You forced a smile. “I’m doing fine. I think we both handled it like mature individuals.”

Her downturned eyes measured your true emotions. “I’m surprised that he didn’t react spitefully about it. The Gojou I used to know wouldn’t have let this slide,” she contemplated, “He really does love you.”

“I think he just doesn’t want any further conflict between us.” A soft sigh crawled out of your lips. “He’s a father, so I understand why he doesn’t want to subject Sachiro to the kind of environment that he was exposed to as a child. He said my explanation was enough for him.”

“It’s because of love,” Ieiri reiterated. “He’s willing to just forget everything despite being forced to believe that his son was never alive. He’s willing to forget that because he doesn’t want to have a reason to stop loving you.”

For some silly reason, you could feel a tight squeeze in your chest. “He has to stop loving me. It’s for the best, and that’s what I told him, too. I gave him the closure that he deserved.”

Her eyes widened before the emotions on her face faded back into a bittersweet smile. “It’s sad to know that nothing can bring you two together again, but I support whatever decision you make. I want you and him to be happy, even if it means you won’t be together in the end.”

Just like her, you were content with your choice and your only hope was to continue living your life with your son and your fiancé, Toji, who deserved your love more than anyone else in this world. You could never turn your back on him when he had been there for you during your lowest. Hopefully, Satoru would be able to find his Toji too and not spend the rest of his life pining after his ex-wife. Doing that would save him years of pain and countless lonely nights.

But until the day comes, you had to show him that platonic love was all that you two would ever have for each other now.

“I’ll still care about him even if we aren’t together anymore,” you silently mumbled, reaching for the cigarette between Ieiri’s fingers before you placed the filter between your lips. As you inhaled from your mouth, a thick cloud of smoke was released shortly.

The owner of the cigarette herself was in catatonic shock before she quickly grabbed the stick back. “Y/N! Smoking is bad for your heart,” she ironically scolded like a mother would, “It can be fatal.”

You spread your lips into a small smile. “Death doesn’t really scare me. I’m only scared of leaving Sachiro behind.”

“Satoru, that’s enough.”

Despite the continuous warnings from his best friend to stop drowning himself in more glasses of whiskey, did he listen? No, of course, he didn’t. This was the only way he could numb his pain. The only possible way for him to forget, even for just a moment, that the woman he loved was no longer his. It wasn’t because his pride was wounded nor was his ego bruised after you had rejected him days ago, but the reason he still couldn’t get himself together was because his expectations of having a complete family was slapped by the reality that you and him could never, ever be the same again.

In those three years where you had been away, it seemed that you were the only one who had truly moved on while he was still stuck on that false hope that one day, you would return. One day, you will come back. He might even be lucky enough to be forgiven for his past mistakes. But since none of that happened and would happen in the future, Satoru couldn’t hide just how devastatingly shattered he was both inside and outside. There was no way of fixing such a man like him anymore.

“Come on,” Suguru continued to insist, reaching for the glass on Satoru’s hand while signaling his bartender to stop serving him drinks. As he was the owner of this bar, Suguru could might as well have the bouncers kick his best friend out at this point, but he knew that Satoru needed to release the buildup of pain inside him, so no matter how many times he would tell him to stop drinking, his warnings were futile. And in realizing this, Suguru let out a deep sigh. “It’s about time you let her go, Satoru. She’s moved on.”

The white-haired man laughed to himself—the kind of laugh that expressed agony rather than actual humor. “You know what’s funny?” he began, eyelids drooping heavily before he took another sip, “When I recovered some of my memories, I was so angry. I wanted to take my son away from her like she did to me. I was determined to act out of spite. I kept thinking about the situation for days and days and days, until my anger just ceased on its own because I realized that I truly can’t get mad at her given our situation, you know? I can’t stay angry at her when I also remember all the fucking things I did to her.” Satoru tightened his grip on the glass, so much that he could almost crush it. “And then she came to my office crying and telling me how I have no right to hurt her all over again. I felt like my whole world collapsed then and there. It was killing me how she was so sure that I’d ruin her again.”

Getou gave him slow, yet gentle pats on the back. “You made mistakes just as she made hers. You were both traumatized in different ways.”

“I made her miserable.” His voice was engulfed in sorrow. “I saw in her eyes how scared she was at the thought of us being together again… but I just wanted a complete family of my own, Suguru. It doesn’t matter to me if she loves someone else. I don’t want Sachi to grow up with a broken family like I did.”

His best friend’s eyes were full of sympathy. But aside from the pity in his gaze, a hint of distaste also lingered behind it. “While you were spending the past few years punishing yourself because of the divorce, she was in New York building a relationship with another man. I don’t think there was ever a time she even thought of you, Satoru. She didn’t care about you until you got into an accident and she was being blamed for it. If she says she deserves better than you, then you deserve someone better, too.”

Someone better. What even was the definition of that? How could someone be better than his twin flame? How could he meet the right person who could fill that spot when you were the only person that owned all of his heart and soul?

“Don’t say it like that,” Gojou softly replied before downing the liquor and feeling the spirit burning his throat.

“But it’s true.” Suguru shrugged. “Who knows she might have fallen for Toji way back when she was still married to you. Isn’t it baffling how fast she was able to move on? You’ve suffered for years thinking that your child was dead, while she was out there letting another man act as your son’s father. You’re allowed to be mad at her, Satoru. Don’t invalidate your feelings out of guilt.”

Fuck. The patchy memories of him breaking down in the hospital made Satoru finish his glass of whiskey. And another. And another. It had to stop; these painful memories, these painful emotions, this painful truth. He had lost count of the amount of liquor that he had forced down his throat until his senses were becoming more and more uncoordinated. His vision was hazy and his emotional state was entering its euphoric state now that he was indeed intoxicated. At least, even if this feeling was temporary, he had still managed to find an escape from the soreness of his heart. Time was moving fast every time he closed his eyes and opened them again—with faces of strangers passing by, with bass boosted music ringing in his ears, with… with Akemi’s beautiful face in his line of sight. Was this a dream?

“God, you’re really drunk,” spoke the woman before him. She cupped his cheeks with her soft hands and made him look at her chocolate brown eyes. “Are you okay?”

Satoru’s defensive instinct was to pull her hand away. “W-Why are you here?”

Suguru was the one who confirmed the reason for the woman’s arrival. “Akemi, you made it,” he said to her before gesturing his chin towards his best friend. “He’s fucking gone. He throws a tantrum every time we tell him to stop drinking.”

Because of the excessive alcohol in his system, Gojou was fading in and out of consciousness while Akemi and Getou were having their conversation. He could hear their muffled voices, but was too numb to react and join in. Hell, he didn’t even know he was already leaning his head on Akemk’s shoulder as she held him in her arms with all her strength.

“How long have you two been here, Suguru?”

“Around ten? Like, maybe two hours ago.”

“His mom’s really worried. She’s the one who messaged me.”

“I know. Should we take him home?”

“Fuck off,” Satoru muttered, detaching himself from Akemi and Suguru and turning around to face the bartender. “Hey… You… Another glass.”

Akemi sat on the stool next to him and rubbed his back. “Satoru, you could get alcohol poisoning, you know?”

He refused, stubbornly. “Don’t nag at me. If you’re gonna drag me home, then don’t waste your time because—”

“I get it. I get you, so I won’t,” she bargained expertly as if she had dealt with a drunkard before, “I’ll let you talk about your feelings until you’re satisfied, but you can’t drink anymore.”

Gojou lowered his head and chuckled mindlessly. “You can’t make me do that.”

Contrary to his claim, she actually did. And she did it by snatching the glass from his hand, only to drink the liquor straight without hesitation. She didn’t even grimace despite the strong taste of the whiskey. “I’m gonna drink every glass you’ll order, then.”

“‘Hime.” Satoru smiled, glancing at her red lips and her equally red cheeks. “You can’t handle alcohol.”

She took the challenge with a cute determined expression on her face. “Try me, ‘Toru.”

That was how the rest of the night was spent with drunken confessions and emotional outbursts. Gojou let every repressed feeling, every memory, every bit of his vulnerability out in the open knowing that he had someone listening to him. He had someone who offered her shoulders for him to cry on. He had someone whom he could vent on and not worry about being judged. Someone who smiled with him, laughed with him, and cried with him. When Getou told him he deserves someone better, was that ‘someone’ Akemi?

“Y/N said… she’d be so much happier…” Gojou tried to stop himself from wobbling in the parking lot, “...without me.”

Akemi, who had to take at least two glasses in Satoru’s stead, was also struggling to walk straight. “She’s both too good and too bad for you.”

He grinned through the heavy ache in his chest. “She faked her abortion… What if I fake my death in return? Maybe she’d be fully happy by then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Satoru. That’ll mess her up.”

While thinking of a response, he stumbled and nearly fell forward. He would have fallen face flat on the concrete floor if not for the woman who caught him at the perfect timing. “Did you know?”

Akemi looked up at him with her drunken eyes. “What?”

Satoru took a deep breath and looked up at the blanket of stars above him. “She told me to… find someone else.”

At the mention of that, your voice echoed inside his head, reminding him of the last advice you gave him before you walked out of his office (and ultimately, his life):

“Satoru, let’s move on,” you said, voice quivering in the middle of your sentence, “I hope you’ll meet someone new. Someone you’ll love and respect. Someone you can protect and comfort. Someone you will cherish and value for the rest of your life.” Agonizing silence suddenly filled the air. “That person isn’t me anymore.”

Was that ‘someone’ the same woman who continued to care for him as they stumbled inside her apartment at 3 AM? Someone who, in her insobriety, admitted how she wished he could finally accept that you were not the only woman he could ever love in this lifetime? What Akemi said was true. Drunk or not, Satoru was aware that he should open his eyes and realize that life was so much more than just hopelessly wishing for an estranged ex-wife to come running back into his arms. He caused you irreparable damage which, in turn, led you to do the same to him. The only way to get out of this loop was by learning how to forgive and let go.

You already made your choice, and that choice didn’t involve Satoru anymore.

“Isn’t it crazy?” A tipsy Akemi slurred as she helped Satoru sit on her couch. Her milky skin was glistening under the ambient lights—her chest looking like a blank canvas that he could freely paint on. “Y/N asked me a favor to keep an eye on you. I couldn’t tell her how dangerous her request was.”

Satoru got up, pressed his forehead against hers, and gripped her small waist while tracing her curve with the palm of his hand. “Why?”

“Because…” She looked up to meet his icy blue eyes. Her long lashes were heavily fluttering as she released a dejected sigh. “Because I might not be able to stop myself from falling for you.”

He blinked slowly and took it all in despite his inability to properly rearrange his thoughts. “That’s bad, huh?”

“Very bad,” she mumbled, burying his face on his chest while hugging him close. It was her liquor courage that allowed her to speak what was on her mind. “I know you wouldn’t dare catch me, too.”

Gojou embraced her tighter, holding onto her presence with fear that she might just be a figment of his imagination. “What if I will?”

The warmth coming from her slender body was in contrast to the cold tip of her index finger that she used to trace his lower lip. “Then, please don’t let me go.”

You see, in Gojou’s head, he wished that he had heard that from someone else. A specific someone whom he married and had a child with. Someone he wanted to care for until his hair turns gray and wrinkles start to appear on his face. Someone he vowed to love for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others until death do you part.

Death wasn’t the reason you two have parted. It was his failure as a husband, a lover, and a childhood friend. It was your unyielding decision to close your heart to him and be in the arms of another man. It was your cursed marriage that was never bound to work in the beginning as if the author of this romance book had always planned for a tragic ending.

But with Akemi right here in front of him, could he finally find his happily ever after?

As they held each other under the dark with nothing but the moonlight illuminating the dimmed room, Satoru touched her cheek and told her, “Thank you for being here for me.” And before he knew it, he was already diving in for a deep kiss. A kiss that felt so warm and tender. A kiss that felt so gentle and affectionate. A kiss that felt so oddly comforting. When was the last time he had kissed someone like this? He couldn’t remember, but he was too engulfed from the intensity of it and could feel himself reaching cloud nine.

He kissed her more. More. More. He kissed her passionately and enjoyed the sweet taste of her lips, sucking her lower lip until she allowed him access to her tongue. He relished from the synchronizing movements of their mouths as if they couldn’t get enough of just a simple kiss.

So, naturally, they moved to the bed.

And he undressed her the same way she undressed him, peeling her underwear to strip her bare while she was unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants.

And then he was on top of her, mapping her collarbone with his love bites. Her soft, milky flesh was filled with proof of how much Satoru had kissed her body.

And the next events were nothing but hazy memories of him intertwining their hands together, of her wrapping her bare legs around his hips, of him burying his member deep inside of her, of her scratching his back with every pound, of him squeezing her tender breast, of her moaning so wantonly in his ear, of them banging the walls all night because of the bed’s continuous movements.

“S-Satoru…!” She held on his shoulders the minute he was increasing his pace. Each thrust made her clench around his girth, forcing a guttural moan out of him as he felt how warm she was.

He lowered his head to kiss her forehead. “You’re so… beautiful.”

Frankly, that was the most he could remember while under the influence of alcohol.

“I could love you,” he raspily whispered to her after they were done doing the deed and he was now holding her on top of him as they tried to catch their breaths—their cold sweats making their bodies glisten under the moonlight. She could probably hear the beat of his heart as he embraced her tightly. “I just need to learn how to properly do it.”

She lazily moved her head upwards so she could peck his lips. “You can take your time.”

You were happy.

Repeat. You were happy. You were blissful. You were… (what else was a perfect word to describe it?) elated? Yes, you were that. You had to be that.

Things were back to normal ever since your last encounter with Gojou and you had nothing else to focus on except your business, your family, your fiancé, and most especially, your son. Satoru had long been out of the picture, but you already prepared for the moments where he would have to spend time with Sachiro, which also meant that you two would still cross paths every now and then. There was nothing wrong with that. You were simply worried that your ex-husband might find it unbearable to still see you around while knowing full well that you were living in your own domestic bubble without him. It must feel like you were rubbing it in his face how you were going to get married to the right man this time around, but you sincerely hoped that Satoru wouldn’t see it that way. What you hoped for was for him to simply wish for your happiness in life the same way he did on the day of your wedding to Toji.

Toji. As for him, you finally could spend ample time together to compensate for the lack of attention you had given him because of your whole family charade with Gojou. No matter how much Toji would deny that it didn’t matter to him since you did it out of consideration for your ex-husband’s amnesia, it was obvious that he did eventually reach his limit and it was the reason why he had revealed the divorce to him in the first place. He wasn’t being petty nor was he acting on jealousy. You were now seeing his actions as him protecting you from getting deeply involved with the man who made you hesitate walking down the aisle on your second wedding. To think of it, Toji must have been scared. Because if you ran away from your wedding after seeing Gojou again, how much more if you had to keep pretending to be your ex-husband’s wife for God knows how long? Toji surely believed that you might end up not even wanting to push through with your marriage anymore.

But you were not going to let that happen. He was the present and future now, and Satoru was just a past. You didn’t know how many times you had already reminded yourself of that, but you still found yourself clinging to that reminder every time you get up in the morning to see the face of another man. Not the one with white hair and blue eyes, but the one with dark hair and a scar on his lip.

“I’ll drop you off at work,” he offered as soon as you woke up next to him, “Then I can drop Sachiro at daycare after.”

You leaned in to give him his gentle morning kiss. “You might be too busy.”

“It’s okay. I can adjust my schedule for you.”

What a truly lucky woman you were.

This was your life now. Someday, you two would have to live under the same roof and have your own family. You would have to cook him breakfast, prepare his clothes, fix his necktie, and wish him a good day at work. It wouldn’t be your first time doing it for a ‘husband’, but you assured yourself that things would be better the second time around. You wouldn’t be subjected to an adulterous marriage, deception, and manipulation. You had forgiven Gojou for that and you weren’t blaming him anymore, however, part of you could still remember the times you had to sleep on an empty bed, or the times you had to cover up his cheating just to save face in front of your family, or the times you had cried yourself to sleep wondering when your husband would finally treat you as his wife. Some people might say that you were clinging onto his wrongdoings far too much than the times where he actually showed character development once he had fallen in love with you, but… your scars were deep and they never faded. So even if you have completely healed, it was normal for you to occasionally look back on how the wound was caused.

The same goes for him. Despite saying that he was willing to forgive you for hiding his child, you were completely aware that you caused him unforgivable pain, too. He must be struggling with the memories of him suffering for the past three years and he was doing his best to just not be reminded of it all. It was a matter of learning to forgive, but not exactly forget.

And again, with the choice you made, you had to be happy.

Your heart was in peace because you were doing everything to own up to your decision. You had to live your life the same way you had been living back in New York where you had all the space to only think about your son and your career. What was so different this time around? It should be a normal day at Hearte and you presented yourself as this cheerful boss that they adored when you entered the office that morning, greeting every employee, and thanking them for showing up to work on time.

The marketing department and the social media manager were the ones who had been fairly busy after the launch because they have had to deal with the online backlash, but you trusted your team and they made sure to do some damage control to prevent your fashion line from earning a bad reputation before it could even make a name in the industry. On the brighter side, everything else was less hectic as compared to the weeks before your launch. Now, you had to start planning the concept for the upcoming summer collection and your days would mostly be occupied by meetings, but there was no rush in doing such since you also had to monitor the sales department to know which pieces were selling versus those that weren’t.

Exclusivity was big for luxury brands and that was what you were striving for. Though, it was an utter lie for you to say that the opinion of the general public wouldn’t matter when every feedback that you receive could actually help you determine how your brand was being perceived. Constructive criticism was beneficial in that sense. What wasn’t okay was the unnecessary hate you were getting from strangers who didn’t even know anything about your life. Ian constantly told you not to read the comment section on articles, at least for your peace of mind, and you did find it much better for your mental health when you stopped reading about the false claims that people were saying about you.

Besides, the only other person who could attest to the things you had been through back in New York was your best friend, Akemi, who was oddly late for work today.

“Feels weird that I’m earlier than you,” you quipped, casually walking inside her office to see her scrambling to open her laptop. She did not meet your eyes when you walked in and instead, did as much to avoid it. “Is everything okay?”

It looked as if she was shaking away a deep thought. “Yeah, sorry I’m late. The subway was too crowded today.”

“That’s okay. Are you really not going to accept my offer, though?” you said, sitting on the couch while browsing through the moodboard on your iPad. “It’ll help you manage your commute time if you have your own car.”

Akemi adamantly shook her head, but still sounded grateful for your consideration. “Buying me a car of my own isn’t your responsibility, Y/N. Don’t worry about it.”

“Then, you can have the Corvette if you want. I’ve been planning to buy a convertible BMW, anyway. It’s less flashy.” With all this car talk, there was one person that reminded you who was into collecting sports cars back when he was a child until now, and you smiled fondly as you remembered how he fulfilled that dream the moment he became an adult. Unfortunately, that car was caught in a collision and you had no idea whether or not he would still get a replacement for it. “The Corvette kinda looks like a cheaper version of Satoru’s McLaren, isn’t it? That’s why I wanna let go of it. I wanna let go of everything that reminds me of him.”

Your friend didn’t respond to your joke the way you expected. In fact, she stopped typing on her laptop as soon as you mentioned your ex-husband’s name. “...Ah, is that so?”

Your response was to nod and look at her. “Yeah. Oh, I don’t think I’ve told you this yet because I’ve been so busy, but he and I decided to co-parent Sachiro. He was actually surprisingly cooperative about it.”

“Was he?” She continued checking her emails, but her voice was getting softer. Perhaps she was just as surprised as you were because who knew that Satoru Gojou would actually choose to be amicable with his ex-wife instead of filing a custody claim?

“I told him to move on,” you recounted the emotional conversation as you got up and stared at the floor to ceiling window, “I’d really love it if he finds someone new. He deserves it too, you know? He also had a hard time when I left him and I don’t want this loneliness to eat his heart away. He’s a really sweet lover as long as he’s with someone he genuinely adores, so if he meets the right woman someday, I’d be happy. I’d wish him well. And despite everything, I’ll always keep him in my heart.” God, you didn’t even know why you were pouring everything out to her right now, but you couldn’t tell these feelings to your family without receiving comments on the side. At least, Akemi wouldn’t do that. She had always been receptive to your feelings and had proven herself to be unbiased with her judgment, so it was okay for you to release how you truly felt about your ex-spouse. “Satoru is my first love and he’ll always remain that.”

It was nice, truthfully. It was such a nice feeling to reminisce your childhood with him, especially before his parents’ relationship affected the way he perceived the world. Satoru Gojou used to be a harmless child who dreamed of having his own family with the person he loved. Even back then, he was a hopeless romantic. He craved for love and attention, and was the happiest whenever he received it. Things might have changed when you two grew older, but you were certain that Satoru was slowly returning to the old him. All he needed was the right person by his side.

You didn’t hear anything from Akemi except her keeping her head down and sniffing silently, wiping her eyes as she hid the tears that flooded them. Silly you. You probably moved her to tears with your poignant confession. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d cry from that,” you said, chuckling to lighten up the conversation.

“No, it’s just…” She struggled from an internal thought before taking a deep breath. “Y/N, you're the strongest and most genuine person I’ve met, and I truly do love you as a friend. I… I don’t deserve you at all.”

You walked to her table and offered a handkerchief to wipe her tearful eyes. “Hey, I should be the one telling you that. I feel like I ask too much from you. I know you’re constantly checking on Gojou even though you’re busy, so I appreciate that you’re going out of your way to make sure he won’t do anything harmful to himself.”

She tightened her grip on the Hermès cloth that you handed her. “Please don’t be too nice to me,” she pleaded, looking at you with a rueful gaze. “There’s something you need to know.”

“Hmm?” You waited patiently with wide eyes that were ready to understand whatever it was that she was going to say. But after a minute had passed, and another minute, and another minute more, all Akemi did was to cover her face with her shaky hands. It occurred to you that maybe she was going through a really difficult time and you sympathized with her emotional well-being knowing that she wasn’t usually the kind of person who would openly cry in front of someone. “It’s okay. If you can’t talk about it now, you can do it once you’re ready,” you reassured, rubbing her shoulder and deciding to give her some space. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you. I promise to repay you for being there for me.”

Akemi was a shitty friend. She didn’t need anyone telling her that because she was able to admit it herself. She wasn’t going to sugarcoat her actions in order to lessen the guilt in her heart, but it was that same guilt that prevented her from spilling the whole truth to her best friend.

How could she do that? You see, she asked that to herself countless times the morning she woke up after her drunken session with your ex-husband, and she still couldn’t stop herself from being too overwhelmed by the idea of betraying her friend. So, to ask herself again, how could she do that?

Firstly, why don’t we list down the reasons why Akemi was considering herself as a terrible friend?

Sleeping with your best friend’s ex is not okay.

It’s not okay! Although to be fair, she and Satoru were too intoxicated to control their actions. They were driven by lust and high emotions, which were major key factors as to why two individuals—particularly that of a man and woman—would resort to sleeping together. Aside from that, Gojou had been divorced for three years, so technically, he was free to sleep with whoever he wanted. He wasn’t tied to anyone nor was he cheating on anyone.

But the thing was, that was still such a sickening mindset and Akemi was angry at herself that she even clung to that defense at the pinnacle of her guilt.

Falling in love with your best friend’s ex is even worse.

The worst! She knew how wrong it was, but how could she explain it to you that she never expected to grow such feelings for your ex-husband? How could she stop herself when she had to spend time with him as if she was already his lover? It was an inevitable situation and she would consider it total bullshit if she denied the fact that she was attracted to him. With his good looks and charming personality, who could resist him? Obviously, she knew his red flags and she was aware of what had happened between you two, but she also recognized how extremely sorry he was for the things he did. She was a witness to Satoru’s side of the coin, which gave her a better understanding of him as a vulnerable, lonely person like she was. But should that be enough for her to start a relationship with the man?

No, that was not enough.

Hiding it from your best friend is inexcusable.

It’s betrayal! Even if she asked every person on this planet, they would all say the same thing. This situation was not livable and she had to tell you the truth if she really valued your friendship and respected you as a human being. She would need to break it to you and be prepared for the consequences of her actions. Would she lose her title as your trusted business partner? Would she lose her spot as your trusted friend? Would she lose you?

It crushed her heart that, yes, she definitely would.

But what about Gojou, you may ask? How did he feel about this? Well, that was exactly what burdened Akemi’s mind on the way to her apartment when you advised her to go home early so she could ‘rest her mind’. Little did you know, she couldn’t exactly free her mind from overthinking when she was too submerged by the flashbacks of her morning-after with your ex-husband.

“Akemi, what have we done…?” Satoru didn’t even hide it in his fully sober eyes that he was regretting what happened last night. The way he was moving away from her, the way he was quickly slipping a shirt on—did he not remember how he kissed her and told her he would learn to love her? Was he more bothered that he woke up in another woman’s bed and not yours?

Akemi would have been extremely hurt if only she wasn’t panicking herself. Because at the sight of your half-naked ex-husband in front of her, all she could think of was how you would feel had you known about this. This was wrong. Wrong in every sense and in every angle. She unknowingly and dangerously threw herself in the middle of love and friendship, and now it became an internal conflict that she could not escape. “I… I don’t know. We were drunk and it just… happened.”

Gojou looked at her and said nothing. Nothing! And that was the scariest part because it seemed like he was going to lose it once he opened his mouth. He was clearly thinking about how wrong it was and how it would hurt you. You. Not her feelings, but yours. Akemi was sure that his mind was only filled with you when he headed out to the balcony. “Fuck. I need some fresh air.”

“Wait, Satoru—”

“Let’s forget about last night,” was his curt reply when he walked away without even looking back.

She hasn’t even been explicitly rejected, yet why did it hurt so much?

They both did it, yet why was the pain so much heavier on her?

Akemi’s eyes were brimming with hot tears. She should have seen this coming. She should have stayed in her lane, remained sober, and didn’t let herself be entangled with a man whose history with his ex-wife was still fresh on his mind. What more could she expect?

No, there was nothing she should expect from him, so she swallowed her feminine pride and chased after him on the balcony, driven by an innate inhibition that made her disregard her feelings in order to protect her heart. With her hand clutching the towel around her chest, she stared at Gojou’s back as she approached him. “Satoru, it’s my fault…” she faltered, trying not to sound weak, “I know you think I’m a mistake and that you’ll just consider me a hookup that you’ll easily forget about, but I want you to know that I… I won’t get mad at you for it. You love Y/N and you feel sorry for her. I do, too. I didn’t mean to do this to her.”

When Satoru turned around, his stance was different from the one he showed in her bedroom. This time, his expression was apologetic as if he could feel pensive sadness at the sight of a guilt-ridden, teary-eyed Akemi. “I’m not blaming you. I’m sorry,” he immediately said, taking a few steps forward to close the distance between them. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m just mostly mad at myself because I dragged you into this when you’re her friend.”

“We were intoxicated.” That was the excuse, but also the plain truth.

“I know.” He ran his thumb across her cheek to wipe her faint tears. “I’d still own up to it. Don’t blame yourself. You already do so much for me.”

She didn’t expect the next words that suddenly came out of her mouth. They became fluid with a bottle cap to stop them from spilling. “But I willingly did those things for you.” And just before she realized the meaning behind her statement, it was too late to take it back.

Gojou was already rubbing his temple with a mirthless laugh. “Akemi, don’t get attached to me. You deserve better.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t.” She held his hand and squeezed it. “Yet you’re just making it harder for me to leave you alone.”

The man sighed and pressed his forehead against hers, letting the tips of his white hair fall messily before his eyes. “Do you remember what I said before you fell asleep in my arms?” he asked while seemingly in an inner turmoil of his own.

Just when she thought he didn’t remember their sweet moment post-sex. Here he was reminding her of it and it was causing an exponential increase in her heartbeat. It was crystal clear that he was referring to the part where he said he could love her, but he would have to learn how to properly do it first. Was that him finally considering the idea of starting new with someone else? Was that him finally letting you go? Surely, it was a domino effect that required both. “I do...”

“I’m sorry I got you involved.” He closed his eyes as if he was cursing himself mentally. “I think it’s best that we just forget about what happened between us.”

She completely understood why, but deep inside her, she couldn’t hide how much it stung. “We should pretend it never happened,” she agreed, “You can’t dive into another relationship right away.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she returned.

…

……

………

Normally, this was the part where they would have to separate and just move on with their lives. This was the part where Gojou would walk out of her apartment and promise to himself that he would never come back. After all, Akemi meant nothing to him. She didn’t mean anything to him. Yet why did he hesitate? Why did he spend another minute of silence staring at her eyes as though he was contemplating about taking risks and starting anew?

Satoru had two roads in front of him, and he ended up going to the path that led to her.

How did he establish his choice? He did it by kissing her. It wasn’t just him leaning in and crashing his lips onto hers. It was also her stepping forward at the same time to meet his lips with an affectionate kiss as if their attraction to one another was brought by gravity. They shared a deep, passionate kiss like they were sucking each other’s presence with the movements of their mouths. There was no going back anymore. They were both sober, both able to remember this moment with a clear vision. They were both lonely, but not when they were next to each other. And by the time he pulled away, his cerulean eyes were coruscating under the sunlight. They reflected sorrow, but also hopefulness. “She said I… I should move on and be with someone else,” he claimed, recalling the words that must have been flooding his mind.

Akemi tugged his shirt. “Then, what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know…” His breathing became still. “I just can’t promise you commitment right now.”

“We can take it slow,” she offered, “We can figure it out.”

Satoru pulled her to his chest. “She’s gonna spend the rest of her life hating me for this,” he stated, pressing his lips on her temple, “But Suguru’s right, too. I deserve to find my own happiness with someone else, just like how she found hers with another man.”

“You do.” She tightened her arms around his torso. “I know this is so fucked up and I’m a really shitty fucking friend, but… I’m a mess. I’m a mess, Satoru. I like you and I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t, but I want to be loved and I know that’s what you need, too.”

He pulled away, only because he wanted to see how genuine her eyes were. “Do you think you can handle someone like me?”

Her mind said no, but her heart said, “Yes.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You hadn’t heard from Gojou for the past two weeks despite telling you that he was going to contact you about a formal schedule on when he should be allowed to see his son. You were simply waiting for his word, concluding that he might be having a really hectic week at the Gojou Group, which was why he couldn’t even reach out to you. It even came to a point where you were tempted to just contact him first, but Ian told you that you shouldn’t initiate anything and to just wait for your ex-husband to decide on his own.

Frankly, you didn’t want to rush into it. You were just worried because Sachiro had been asking you about when he could see his dad and you couldn’t bear having to explain again and again that his father was a busy man.

The waiting game sucked.

But also, you were able to pay attention to more important things. During the period of waiting for Satoru to contact you, you discussed some things about the co-parenting setup with your family, mainly pointing out that you wanted to change Sachiro’s legal name to his father’s. It was something that you had already decided on back when you were in New York because you did anticipate that Satoru would want to make his son carry his name for legal purposes, especially since Sachiro would (assumingly) be the sole heir to his multinational conglomerate. At first, Gen rejected the idea believing that Satoru could use it against you in the future, but it was your father that reasoned with her, stating that changing Sachiro’s family name wouldn’t mean that your ex-husband would also have the custodial rights. And since Ian was there to confirm it, they eventually agreed to your plans.

Now, the only problem was executing the plan with your baby daddy and convincing him about flying to New York City within the next few weeks so that you two could fix Sachiro’s birth certificate and citizenship.

Nine days, you counted. It took Satoru nine days to finally contact you and he did it through Miwa who sent you such a professional email about her boss’ request to have Sachiro’s weekends spent with him. The schedule was still favorable for you because your ex-husband only wanted Fridays to Sundays while the rest of the week was all yours to have. Fair enough. But you still called Miwa that afternoon to ask her if you could meet with her boss personally and talk to him about New York.

“Ms. Y/N, how are you?” she quickly greeted you as soon as she answered the phone.

“I’m great. How ‘bout you?” you returned her cordiality, “You didn’t have to be so formal with the email and all. You could have just told me through text.”

You could sense her apologetic smile on the other end of the line. “Chairman wanted to make sure that everything will be communicated professionally. He didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for you.”

“I see…” You let out an awkward laugh. So, he really wanted to stay professional now, huh? “Is he still in the office? I was thinking of meeting up with him at the coffee shop across the street.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Y/N. He went home early today.”

In that case, you hoped he wouldn’t mind if you visited him at the penthouse personally. You two broke it off on good terms now (and you still left a few things in your shared home), so you figured that there was no harm in coming back to that sentimental place. Besides, you could use the excuse of picking up some of the bags you had left in the closet before you could proceed to actually propose your plans for Sachiro. You were already looking forward to seeing his reaction once you told him that you were willing to have Sachiro acquire his family name because your ex-husband himself had always wanted his son to be acknowledged by the whole world as his heir.

Though, another tiny little problem with that was the media’s knowledge about your son, and Toji was the one who reminded you of it while you were driving through the city.

“No one really knows about Sachi aside from us,” he pointed out a fact that you seemed to have overlooked, “The public speculates that you had a miscarriage after the infidelity scandal was exposed, while some others think you secretly gave birth to him in New York. They know you’re a private person, but not to that extent, you get what I mean? They’d come for you if they found out that what you told Satoru was that you terminated your pregnancy. You know how cancel culture works in this society. People are gonna boycott your brand and send you a tirade of hateful words online.”

You held back a sigh as you maneuvered the car to the left. “Maybe, I… I can talk to Gojou about it.”

“About what?”

“About announcing it in public that he and I have a child together,” you introduced the idea, “Or is that uncomfortable for you?”

He denied it straight away. “It’s fine with me if he’s gonna cooperate with you.”

“Okay…”

“You do what’s best. I gotta go,” said your fiancé, “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Alright, bye. I love you.”

That should add another reason on your list as to why you do need to have this talk with your ex-husband in person. Aside from your initial plan, you would also have to try and let him understand why it would be advantageous for the both of you to voluntarily reveal Sachiro’s existence instead of letting it be exposed by the media, because that would be problematic, not only for his and your of your publicities, but also for your son who would be in the middle of all this.

But what if Gojou decided to turn his back on you after you announce your child to the public? What if he exposed you himself and tell them that you lied about your abortion? What if he provided all the receipts of you hiding your child in another country while he was suffering from depression back in Japan?

That would truly be the end of you.

You still had hope, though. You had hope because you knew that Satoru was not the kind of person who would destroy you anymore. He was now the kind of man who would beg for his ex-spouse to come back, swallow his pride, and willingly subject himself to be a victim of adultery as long as you would become his wife again. If he could extend his vulnerability that much for you, then would you truly believe that he was still hell bent on getting his revenge?

You were a sanguine person to begin with, and you kept that positive mindset as you finally stepped out of the elevator before walking to the foyer of the penthouse. It took you by surprise when you saw that your wedding portraits were neatly stacked in a corner along with your bags, shoes, and other things that you owned as if this home no longer offered any space for you. Satoru must have decided to throw them away now, but why did that cause tiny pricks in your heart?

“Satoru?” you called, increasing the volume of your voice in this seemingly empty house. “Satoru, I’m here.”

Should you just ring his phone? Or should you see him in the bedroom? Or perhaps he was busy reading books in his home office?

“Y/N?” The answer was there when he was descending the staircase in a hasty manner. His hair, disheveled. His chest, glistening with sweat. He had nothing but sweatpants on so it made more sense that he was in the gym prior to coming down. “What are you doing here?”

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” You smiled and tried to be casual, putting your feet together and keeping a safe distance from your ex-husband. His crystal blue eyes did not shine when he looked at you. “I just wanted to talk to you about, um… Well, I was planning for us three to go to New York and fix Sachi’s papers.”

Satoru looked uneasy, but still presented a composed version of himself as he placed his hands inside his pockets. “You mean change his name?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that. I know we can have people process the papers for us, but I also thought that it could be a great opportunity for me to also show you where and how I raised him back there.”

“Okay.” His answer was short, but direct to the point. And as he looked away from you, he was throwing his head back as if he was trying to free himself from all the stress that he was possibly experiencing internally. What made you curious was the haze of guilt in his eyes. “Listen, can we just have this talk another day? Better yet, just set the date on when you wanna go to New York and we can fly private.”

His dismissive attitude made you regret coming here at all, but how stupid could you be? Of course, it wasn’t like things were sunshines and rainbows between you two now. He probably still held some grudge from your last conversation. “Alright,” you softly replied, “I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I didn’t mean to disturb your peace or anything. I was just excited to let you know that we can change Sachi’s name.”

He slightly turned away. “Did you come here alone? Do you need a ride home?”

“No, I’m fine. I drove here,” you insisted, stuffing your throat with the awkward air. “I’ll personally take Sachi to you this weekend. He misses you.”

“I miss him, too.”

You kept a steady breath and considered whether it was the best time to leave. He must be feeling so lonely and you were the cause of it. You were even shoving it at him by going here. “Gojou, I’m sorry if I was too harsh last time.”

“Y/N, stop apologizing. I don’t deserve it,” he quickly replied and shook his head, “You said you’ll be happier without me. So unless it’s necessary, let’s not cross each other’s paths anymore, okay?”

Damn. “Yeah, I guess we—”

“Satoru?”

You must be dreaming. You must be fucking dreaming.

Because if you weren’t and if this was your devastating reality, then why was Akemi Hirai coming down the stairs with nothing but your husband’s shirt on? Why did your best friend look horrified as soon as she noticed your presence in this penthouse that you, for a year, lived in as Satoru Gojou’s wife? Why was she hiding her face behind him as if she was in deep shame?

Speechless. That was what you were as you ended up scoffing at the ridiculousness of this situation. You stood unblinking, unable to process the sight in front of you. “I…” You couldn’t even find the right words! “I… I’m confused. Why are you…?”

Gojou was clearly panicking, but he was also focused on measuring your possible outburst. “Y/N, I was going to tell you about this.”

You clenched your hand into a fist. “...Are you together?”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Akemi said “yes” and Satoru said “no”.

“It’s complicated,” your ex-husband tried to pacify, reaching out for your arm before you moved away. He was looking so desperate as if you had caught him cheating on you the same way he used to do with Sera. “I’m sorry. I know you’re mad right now and you deserve to be, but please just direct your anger at me. Don’t get mad at ‘Kemi.”

They were even on a nickname basis now, too? You were a minute away from exploding, yet all you could do was stare at them in catatonic stupor. “Since when?” you questioned, eyeing your best friend. “Akemi?”

“A c-couple days ago,” she answered with a quivering voice and tear-filled eyes. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t mean to hurt you like this.”

“I’m not hurt,” you claimed—your mouth, tight and grim. Your expression, cold and unrelenting. Still, you couldn’t help but notice how both of their lips were swollen from all the kissing they must be having. It made you feel sick inside. “This just doesn’t make sense to me.”

Doesn’t it, really? Or were you just in denial of the fact that this was bound to happen one way or another? She had been spending time with him even back when he was at the hospital. She had been comforting him up to when he learned about the divorce. She had been there for him when he recovered most of his memories. She was his confidant, a friend he could count on, a person he could lean on. She was his Toji. So, what right do you have to get mad? What right do you have when, not more than two weeks ago, you were the one shoving your ‘happy relationship with Toji’ to Satoru’s face? What right do you have when you were the one who told him to find someone else to love so he could stop chasing after you? What right do you have when… when… deep, deep down, you knew that Akemi was the perfect woman for him?

Betrayal? How could she betray you when you were divorced? How could she have wronged you when you were the one who had unknowingly pushed this agenda?

Questions. Too many questions. Too many emotions.

“Y/N.” Satoru held your hand. “Let’s talk about it.”

They must have pitied you. “No. Just answer me honestly,” you said, pulling your hand away and preventing the pain from gnawing at your chest, “Are you using my best friend to get back at me? Because if that’s the case…”

His gaze lingered between you and her, contemplating his answer before opening his mouth to confirm how he truly felt. Truthfully, he looked emotionally exhausted. He looked absolutely over it as though he just wanted to completely stop associating himself with you and all the melancholic memories of your past, probably wishing to himself that he just wanted a break and a new life without any trace of his ex-wife. As the thought of it sent a pang to your chest, you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to hear his response. “I’d like to start new with her,” he said, feeling sorry for you, “I wanna get to know her more and perhaps make things work. I was gonna ask for your permission, but—”

“Stop.” You forced an upward curve on your lips as you avoided both of their eyes. He wanted to ask your permission? He was making you look pathetic with that statement alone. “I get it. It’s fine. It’s not like I’m still your wife or anything.” Being a woman was such a difficult role, wasn’t it? Because now you have to protect your feelings by putting on a mask before proceeding to ramble. “It’s none of my business anymore and I’m glad you listened to my advice. Just don’t… don’t you ever break Akemi’s heart.”

Satoru looked down, clearly cognizant of your ingenuity. “I won’t.”

Akemi, who had been wiping her dampened cheeks, walked closer to pull you into a tight hug. “Y/N, I’m really, really sorry… I don’t know how else I can ask for forgiveness. I’ll go down on my knees if you want me to.”

Stop. Stop. STOP!

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” As odd as it may seem, you stayed calm and withdrew yourself from her embrace. Everything else after that was you trying to be civil as you turned to Gojou while preparing to leave. “I’ll contact Miwa about New York, but if you can’t make it, then I can just process the papers myself.”

Was it because he felt sorry that was why he offered you a sympathetic gaze? “No, no. I’ll be there with you, Y/N. I promise. Us—you, me, and Sachi.”

You didn’t have the strength to say anything anymore. You didn’t have the ability to react. All you could think of right now was to leave as soon as you can, walk as fast as you can, and step back inside the elevator knowing that your departure wouldn’t mean anything much to those two people up in the penthouse. In this puzzling situation, you ended up staring at the view of the city from the glass walls of the elevator as the platform lowered down level by level.

It was unfair for you, but did you consider that maybe, it was unfair for them, too? It was unfair for Akemo who might have tried her best not to fall in love despite always voicing out how much she was wishing to be in a relationship again. It was unfair for Satoru who was now finding his fresh new start with someone who could actually accept him for who he was. There was no betrayal. There was no cheating. Just two people who didn’t mean to catch feelings for one another, and you were once again the antagonist that was holding them back from their happily ever after.

How funny was it that this felt like Sera all over again when it shouldn’t be?

Unfortunately, you couldn’t hold it any longer when you broke down inside the elevator with no one else to comfort your pain but yourself.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst #jjk x reader #gojo series

[wigmonster]

my discord header has been that fucking insane sandor ferenczi quote about how men only have sex with women because pussy smells like herring brine for months now and i'm upset my nitro is ending soon just because that quote is NUTS

#txt

[chrisengel]

The Still Small Voice: Psychoanalytic Reflections on Guilt and Conscience

Donald L. Carveth

Whereas Freud himself viewed conscience as one of the functions of the superego, in The Still Small Voice: Psychoanalytic Reflections on Guilt and Conscience Carveth argues that superego and conscience are distinct mental functions and that, therefore, a fourth mental structure, the conscience, needs to be added to the psychoanalytic structural theory of the mind. He claims that while both conscience and superego originate in the so-called pre-oedipal phase of infant and child development, they are comprised of contrasting and often conflicting identifications. The primary object, still most often the mother, is inevitably experienced as, on the one hand, nurturing and soothing and, on the other, as frustrating and persecuting. Conscience is formed in identification with the nurturer; the superego in identification with the aggressor. There is a principle of reciprocity at work in the human psyche: for love received one seeks to return love; for hate, hate (the talion law). Like Franz Alexander and Sandor Ferenczi before him, Carveth views the therapeutic task as the disempowerment of the superego. But unlike his forebears he does not propose its replacement by the rational ego for, in his view, rationality cannot serve as the source of values. Following Jean-Jacques Rousseau, he finds the roots of morality not in reason but in feeling, in sympathetic identification or “pity.” With Pascal, he holds that “the heart has reasons reason cannot know.” Such “reasons of the heart” form the core of conscience. Unlike the torments inflicted by the demonic superego that merely uses transgression as an excuse to do what it wants―punish and torment the ego―the conscience, what Winnicott called “the capacity for concern,” is genuinely troubled by failures to love. The author claims we must face our bad conscience, acknowledge and bear genuine (depressive) guilt, and through contrition, repentance and reparation come to accept reconciliation and forgiveness, or be forced to suffer the torments of the damned―persecutory guilt inflicted by the sadistic internal persecutor and saboteur, the superego. It is the author’s view that in human history the damage done by id-driven psychopaths amounts to nothing compared to that brought about by superego-driven ideologists. Freud and subsequent psychoanalysis has largely whitewashed the superego while demonizing the id, the alleged “beast” in man, when in reality animals are seldom beastly, at least not in the ways humans often are. While aware of its destructiveness in the clinical realm, psychoanalysts have largely ignored the ideologies of domination―the sexism, racism, heterosexism, classism and childism―that are internalized from unconscionable societies into the unconscionable superego.In the penultimate chapter, drawing on the work of Hannah Arendt, Terry Eagleton and others, Carveth critically reviews the concepts of psychopathy and evil. In the final chapter, he advocates a demythologizing, deliteralizing or deconstructive approach to the Bible as metaphor, but one that escapes Freud’s derogation of this approach by acknowledging, with Hegel at his most honest, that its result is a humanistic ethic no longer to be equated with religion.

Categories: Society, Politics & Philosophy - Anthropology Year: 2013 Publisher: Karnac Books Language: English Pages: 360 / 353 ISBN 10: 1780491689 ISBN 13: 9781780491684 File: PDF, 1.01 MB