The Jealous Type.

Jealousy is not about love.

‘The kernel of all jealousy is lack of love.” CG Jung

it looks like its about lurve,

but it frikkin’ ain’t.

Love is about people. Jealousy is about me.

Dj’am sayin’?

Jealousy is about me not getting what i want when, when, when, that udder fukka, him getting aaaaaalla good stuff.


someone else is getting someone else….

Or, someone else is getting what I want, which is someone else, soon to be something else..

When you feel jealous its a sign your intended has already become ‘stock’, to be bought and sold..

like a bitch.

When you come across a situation marked by jealousy you will nearly always find that its just the latest in a great pattern of events, a mere bead on a long string of….


Jealousy is not just a feeling.

It’s an attitude to life….

Which is why you get ‘jealous types.’

Jealousy is their ‘modus vivendi’.

Start as you mean to continue…

They see the world in general and people in particular as extensions of themselves, there to serve/nurture/provide. Should the other, reduced now to a mere function, fail to comply…

‘Dere gonna be trouble….’

and wander off…. doing something unscripted..


Talking to someone..

or strollin’ off to the otherside of the supermarket in search of oyster sauce…

or havin’ too much chat with the cashier…

Brian, 67, overweight and balding: a bloke, and a bit whiffy at that…

gonna be trouble, mon.

I have a friend who owns a shop. He works at his trade whilst simultaneously selling his wares and entertaining customers. He is always busy, busy, busy. When I go in we talk while he works….. and sells…. and entertains…

Within minutes his wife storms in hands on hips, quivering with fury… eventually you just have to leave…

It looks like an accusation of loafing, but the man is a font of productive labour… his hands don’t stop….


The problem is me…

And the fact he’s so delighted to see me.

Now it looks like jealousy..

but it ain’t that neeva.

my presence has caused him to behave as though he were no longer her prosthetic limb…


He’s… acting autonomously..


like a leg that just suddenly decided to dance across the room by itself…..!

You are not being what you are supposed to be.

You have breached your existential remit.

To be what I need you to be..

And nothing more.

The narcissist and the jealous type are first cousins..

of the kissing variety.

and, maybe more…

There’s something inevitable about their tryst.

the reason is that the narcissist has identified with their own ideal and therefore has to split off their dark brother, the shadow, to achieve this end.

They reject and project…

the undiscovered self.

And so the other, in quite a real sense, truly is an extension of themselves…

to be fascinated with..

for as long as the projection holds…. the jealousy will remain.

When the other asserts beyond doubt their autonomy, or the projection is withdrawn, jealousy slides into sour grapes..

and everyone goes home.

never really fancied her…

The end of jealousy has to do with renouncing ownership.

of course the ‘jealous type’ would rarely admit that. Their’s is a noble sentiment..

You’ll never guess what she did next…

It’s about love! and feeling.. vulnerable…..

fearing betrayal…

you bastard.

which is why jealousy is so hard to address.

because there’s sooo much ‘poor me’…

whilst panelbeating the shit out of everyone in range with a 4 pound lump hammer.

So, the narcissist actively picks people like you and me, who are such hard work, because there’s endless opportunity to bewail the fact that we are off doing our own thing.

And so what’s so great about being regarded with eternal suspicion?

No, its a real question.

What is the deal with you hanging out with jealous types?

Oh., poor me, I didn’t sign up for this… I was only trying to help…


Could it just possibly be that ramming someone’s insane, irrational, selfish shit back down their stupid throats is just toooo good an opportunity to pass up?

Ok, you’re the boss.



Polymorphous Perversity

Yes, its a real thing.

‘The ability to find pleasure in any part of the body.’

clearly in need of chemical neutering….

According to Freud, a young child is, by nature, “polymorphously perverse” (Introductory Lecturs 15.209)….

which is to say…..

‘that, before education in the conventions of civilized society, a child will turn to various bodily parts for sexual gratification and will not obey the rules that adults determine……….’

So, a spontaneous and irrepressible delight in the world…..

no, don’t tell me..!.

can it be that bad…?

Some adults retain such polymorphous perversity, according to Freud.

thank fuck for that.

Only now, unfortunately, ensconsed formally into the annals of science and medicine, is the final betrayal of the child whose words, or cries, will now officially not be believed and moreover, whose claim of abuse will itself be considered a symptom of illness……

Because when Freud renounced his Trauma Theory, which said that kids are driven crazy by their parents….

parents didn’t like it.

And parents were society.

So he came to the opposite conclusion as quickly as was decent to do so, without an Edwardian eyebrow being lifted too high….

which they liked better.

namely, that children fuck themselves up.

oh yes, that’s what I meant…

I remember now…

And so for a hundred years or more there has been built into the law of the land, via expert witnesses in autopsy, medicine and psychology, who, true to their training, consider, as a default point of reference that a child making a complaint is both lying and disturbed.

Its not just that Freud regarded his patients in such a poor light…

He came just in time to mark the end of a long process of disenfranchisment of the child. The quality of relatedness that the divine feminine once brought to life is lost along with the Great Mother and increasingly the child is unheld and unsafe.

When my twelve and a half year old son was asked by a court official where he wanted to live and he said with his father, this was taken to mean the opposite of what was said because the child couldn’t possibly know his own mind….

and so he was taken away…

during which time he went from am A grade student to a failing student….

and had to harm himself to get the authorities to sit up and take notice.

Apparently, at this, our pinnacle of evolution, kids don’t know what they want, don’t speak the truth and haven’t got their own minds. They are considered to be so stupid that you can’t open a window in the classroom on a hot summer’s day, in case one of them absent mindedly falls out…

…or maybe a whole clutch of them would suddenly make a mad dash for the window, and launch themselves at it…


and falling

like Lemmings onto the concrete playground below..

stupid children.

So stupid, bottle tops come with instructions, ‘Twist’! Salt comes with a serving suggestion, a packet of peanuts warns of the possibility that the packet may contain nuts and that Harry Potter broomstick in the toy shop bears the legend,..

..”does not actually fly”.

That’s not evolved. That’s a deeply regressed, collectively depressed state with all common sense and faith in the other wrung out of it.

And so Narcisissim and OCD are not just defences, but consequences…

because ‘polymorphous perversity,’ is actually required for artistic and creative expression. Its containing of the chaotic processes that creativity and artistic expression involve. If you can take equal pleasure in whatever the world/mother has to offer, then you mind it’s inclement weather a little less and can play with what’s at hand.

But if you don’t get comfy and taste everything, then that unlived life becomes cold and vengeful, like a spurned lover.

”Unlived life does not sit idly on the shelf, it will turn around and bite you.” M L von Franz.

And so if our kids aren’t given the basic credit of being able to top a strawberry without supervision then how are they to get comfy and experimental and curious about everything?

And if we then don’t live life out to the last drop, challenging all kinds of sacred cows in doing so en route, we actually invite not just boredom and apathy on ourselves but fully fledged neuroses.

Give me the polywossname any day.



Shame and the lost Goddess.

Guilt is for what you did.

Shame is for what you are, or what some discovery has ‘revealed’ you to be. Shame can seem ineradicable, like some base line of identity.

in yo’ bones.

Darlene Lancer bought out a new Utube video on shame and co-dependent relations.

She draws our attention to what a wrecker shame is in relationships.

Shame is generally about failing, being-a-failure.

But life is full of failing.


” If youre not failing you’re not trying.” Chris Bonnington.

The impulse to grow and change impels us into situations which are difficult by necessity. There has to be a chance of not making it for it to be worth striving for in the first place.

So, as well as being, ‘thrust into multiplicity,’ (Hillman) we can fold in the face of it and be thrown back.

And people’s lives in respect of their private endevours are full of failing..

-or ought to be –

let alone their lives together.

And if we can’t fail without excessive shaming of ourselves, or allowing ourselves to be shamed by others, then we are unlikely to try very hard in the first place.

Don’t try, can’t fail, no shaming.

Of course, there is also the teensy issue that the whole of Western Civilisation has as its cornerstone a story of shame and being cast out. Right from the start, ‘Thou Shalt not Fail’.

or be conscious..

Our dominant culture is rooted in shame. And so we can’t learn how to fail, or find the value of confusion, the magic of not-knowing, or of having to.

“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.”. T.A. Edison

Many of our more philosophical enquires are likewise rooted in shame-avoidance and fear of failing. Even the question, ‘what is the meaning of life?’ is itself run through with the assumption that whatever it is, it is something I have to grasp or attain.

Something to be understood by the mind,

a quest which must fail…

With the erosion of the divine feminine from the collective imagination we must, perforce, sacrifice the Principle of Relatedness as part of the deal. This means that compassion for and accepting the inevitability of failure, something a mother might convey to her child with a simple look, becomes increasingly lost to us.

We have to know who we are, where we are going and have all kinds of definite  beliefs.

To demonstrate our maturity.

And no-where, in any of that, is their any reference to Mystery.

Unless its to surmount it…

No encounter with the Ground-of-Being.

And loss of the internal relatedness wherein I might get to coach me…..

……as me crashes and burns.

There’s a couple of square miles in the Chiltern hills I know so well that I can walk around them for hours at night without a light. Badgers don’t like torches.

Sometimes I do get lost. But I learned from my feet that the part of me which felt lost and didn’t like it, wasn’t as big as the part of me that was lost and didn’t mind, that was ok with pressing on regardless, perhaps in the faith that some landmark would eventually emerge from the dark.

Failing to know where I was from one moment to the next became less important than the encounter with forest.  And because I was ok with being lost I was never lost for long.

You might say that there has had to be this sacrifice of belonging, once intrinsic to our ancient polytheistic selves, in order for consciousness to evolve, but in fact what it seems to have given rise to is co-dependency rather than individuality. To individualism, a cult of persona, rather than actually standing apart from the crowd.

On your own two feet.

What divine kingship knows, whispered perhaps down the backstairs of Yahweh’s Chambers to those early kings; epoch spawning kings… Jacob, David and ‘ol Neb’…..

way back….

is that its greatest strength lay not in the fealty of the people but their being seductively offered the path of least resistance, having to acheive nothing  provided they are loyal….

ashamed of failing and therefore easily led…

If we can’t fail we can’t learn, and wind up with ‘a cult of ignorance.’ Isaac Asimov…

We lose the capacity to compromise and therefor must come adrift in our relationships.

If the psyche is self balancing then you wonder, what the deal could possibly be for the ordinary, cheering person, who will likely be shamefully squeezed in perpetuity by the very monarch he’s praising, or sent to die in wars that having nothing to do with the fighting men involved.

Could it be that this era of divinely appointed monarchs, supposedly a necessary adjunct to the evolution of consciousness, is simply the collective implimentation of Yahweh’s original promise to us all of an easy life – by acting out the coniunctio, the sacred marriage, and doing it ‘on behalf of the people’… so that the people don’t have to do it for themselves. Which is why they cheer so loud…

an’ take so much shit.

The shame is worth not having to do anything about it.

The Tar Baby.

Brer Fox hated brer Rabbit.

Hated him real bad.

Hated him so much that aaaal he could think about was how to nail ‘ol brer Rabbit.

So he came up with a plan. He would build a baby made of tar, knowing that when brer Rabbit came along his curiosity would get the better of him and he’d stick himself fast.

‘An it would be all over for brer Rabbit.

So he built the baby of tar and turpentine and set him up beside the road waiting for brer Rabbit to come along.

By and by brer Rabbit strolls down the track.


I said, ”Morning…”

”You deaf or jus’ rude?”

Brer Rabbit gets easily riled you see and within a moment he’s steaming at the silent tar baby.

Only a matter of time before he clouts the tar baby and gets his paw caught .

Then he hits him again and, you guessed it, soon he’s completly stuck fast.

Brer Fox rolls out of the bushes killing himself laughing.

”Got you this time brer Rabbit!”

But while he’s rolling about brer Rabbit is thinking fast…

”Oh please, brer Fox, do with me what you will but don’ throw me in the Briar patch!”

”I’m gonna cut you up and boil you for breakfast!”

”Oh, anything, so long as you don’ throw me in the Briar patch!”

”I’m gonna skin you and wear your pelt for a hat!”

”Mercy, just so long as you don’ throw me in the Briar patch.”

”Gonna make your bones into porridge!”

”Anything but the Briar patch!”

Then brer Fox hesitates and muses a bit..

”Tell you what,” he announces triumphantly, ”it’s the Briar patch for you!” an tosses brer Rabbit right in.

Brer Rabbit uses the briars to unstick himself and races off laughing loudly.

”I was born and bred in the Briar patch brer Fox! born and bred!”

Narcissistic Brer Fox also suffers from an obsessive compulsive disorder. His whole meaning-construct is about tormenting brer Rabbit into carrying his inferiority.

Not catching, outwitting and humiliating.

Outwitting brer Rabbit is all he thinks about. His den is a mess, he’s thin and mangy and there’s no sissy Fox on the horizon.

He lies awake at night fantasizing about how he, clever brer Fox, will one day be the talk of the woods. He’s what Nassim Nicholas Talebe would call ‘fragile’, he only has one string to his bow.

And therefore only one way of doing things.

And because he has idealised himself and is unconsciously identified with one aspect of life he is compelled to operate from a highly restricted perspective.

So he reacts rather than responds…

… according to the sole injunction, ‘do whatever hurts brer Rabbit most’, rather than, ‘do what suits me best.’

His compulsive need to enviously attack brer Rabbit robs him of his breakfast.

And because his one and only sacred task is to revenge himself on his dark brother he is unable to self-reflect. There is no inner dialogue whereby I might say to me,

‘hang on a minute, what’s going on here?’

‘Why is brer Rabbit so insistent?’

‘ What is the deal with Rabbits and Briar patches?’

And of course, he unconsciously knows what will happen but is compelled to let it happen because if he finally ate brer Rabbit who would there be to carry all his shit?

Brer Rabbit’s different, he is what Talebe calls ‘anti-fragile’. And that doesn’t just mean he’s tough. It means he has options and thrives on complexity. Brer Rabbit can talk to himself. He’s able to have an inner discussion about the pickle he’s in because he’s not overly identified with just one corner of the psyche.

And so he can play adversity to his advantage.

He’s gained his inner flexibility by having a confrontative encounter with his own shadow symbolised by the tar baby, the dark brother. Its deflating. He has been caught with his pants down after all. But the encounter enriches him by opening up internal channels of communication between I and me.

An’ so he can get outtada pickle.

Brer Fox has less inner dialogue. Being is lodged in this one thing in his life. He is bound to be resistant to change.  By and large, the goal of many helping professions, particularly at the behavioural end of the spectrum, is to ‘relieve’ him of his symptom.

But that’s all he has….

So he hangs on like grim death.

It would be much better, instead of trying to cut the only string he has to his bow, to help him realise that his obsession has to do with the poverty of his inner world. It is about not being fed in some way. He then might let himself be depressed about the limited options this eventuates and see his idealised self-construct as compensation for the restricted way in which he has thus far lived.

And of course if his culture had not been so foolish as to cut itself off from the nourishment of the divine feminine responsible for relatedness then one thin, gloriously idealised slice of life’s pie, will be all you’ll get….

excep’ you not him therapist.

He might then realise that his envy of brer Rabbit is justified. Brer Rabbit really does have greater internal flexibility than brer Fox and actually represents brer Fox’s own potential.

When envy can be named and allowed, it is free to grow into admiration for the other that can then be emulated and alchemicaly transformed into inner possibility.

Brer Fox’s negative transference on Brer rabbit might then be resolved.

‘An so him can find pleasure in tidying him den….spruce him fur…   an’ follow on de trail of sissy Fox.


Freud’s Ratman.

Freud’s thought can be divided into two utterly distinct phases and the transition from the one to the other has had an impact on our culture that to date has been profoundly underestimated. Up until 1896 Freud believed that psychological disturbance was created by childhood abuse and the repression of the associated memories. His views were rejected.  He  renounced his insight and said instead (in his Drive Conflict Theory) that children became disturbed because of their own inability to handle real life.
One of the most famous of Freud’s cases was called the ‘Ratman’, commonly studied in many psychotherapy trainings. It’s a psychoanalytical room 101. The appeal is Freud’s enthusiasm for this patient who exemplified his substitute ‘Drive Conflict’ theory and the bizarre nature of the case which is bound to titillate the voyeur in us all.
In brief, the poor Ratman was terrified of rats. His particular fear was of rats being strapped to his behind in a cage and left to gnaw their way out through his anus. His fear stemmed from childhood after a nanny had encouraged him to view her genitals.
Freud’s view was that the Ratman’s ‘eroticized’ phobia was a symbolic expression of castration anxiety should his father find out ‘what he had done’ and what Freud felt he wished to do again, a desire which resulted in him suffering from ‘the vicissitudes of sexual curiosity’ (Freud 1991). Students invariably swallow whole the cleverness of modern psychology’s father/king without blurting out the obvious; the Ratboy had been sexually abused.
Imagine the public outrage if someone stood up in a modern court claiming they had ‘allowed’ a prepubescent child to view their genitals? Imagine it then being given as expert opinion that if the child had a bad reaction to this exposure it was simply because the complicit child was afraid of being caught and punished. The court would erupt. Yet this is what Freud suggested. How is this possible? This poor child was betrayed by a carer in ‘loco parentis’. How had the reality of his abuse been denied?
Sexual abuse of children is deeply psychologically damaging. It can destroy the quality of a person’s life. It has a catastrophic impact on a child’s self-esteem, ability to relate and express feelings. It also profoundly affects the capacity to make emotional commitments in later life.
On the 21st April 1896 a young Sigmund Freud stood up before the collective might of the Society for Psychiatry and Neurology in Vienna and read his paper, ’The Aetiology of Hysteria’, a clear formulation of the part parental abuse plays in the disturbance of childhood.. It was met with total silence. In the days that followed Freud wrote to his friend Wilhelm Flies, ‘the word has been given out to abandon me and a void is forming around me.’(Masson1992). What had happened? Why had his paper met with such hostility?
What Freud had so bravely done was to confront polite society with its own shadow. He argued that childhood abuse was at the root of later neuroses. The Society were appalled. Madness was caused by parents. By them.
It did not take long for Freud to realise what he had provoked. ‘I am as isolated as you could wish me to be,’ (ibid) he complained to Flies. In private and amongst his remaining colleagues he began to recant and by 1905 made a public retraction. This, despite an intervening period as an intern at the Paris morgue where he saw evidence at first hand of the brutal rape and murder of children, ‘of which’, he says in private letters, ‘science prefers to take no notice.’ Soon, Freud himself was turning a blind eye until by 1925 he was able to say, ‘I was at last obliged to recognise these scenes of seduction had never taken place. They were only fantasies..’(ibid)
Neuroses were now due to an individual’s inability to resolve inner conflicts. Freud capitalised on children’s tendency to blame themselves for the ills that befall them.
Freud turned his theory around entirely. Any charges of abuse now reflected the child’s failure and were themselves construed as neurotic symptoms. The symbol and pedigree of this utterly revised theory of neurosis was the ‘Oedipal Complex’. The story is twisted to imply Oedipus wanting to sexually possess his mother, the Ratman to sexually possess his childminder and the battered corpses in the Paris morgue to possess their murderers.
Freud stumbled on the threshold of midlife, failing to stand by his convictions and endure the censure of his peers. He succumbed to the self-preservation that would ensure his social standing, his professional career and his income but sacrificed his earlier theoretical framework which supported the reality of child sexual abuse.

Fast forward.
I think what happened was that the Ratman had no-one to mirror back to him the truth of the abuse he had suffered. ‘And so’, to paraphrase Alice Miller (ibid), ‘he lost sight of it himself’. His experiences of intrusion were repressed. They became symbolised in the dramatic set of images characterising his case. They were split off and relegated to a future possibility, preferable to his past reality but still gnawing at him from behind.
We are used to dreams containing symbols representing and poetically expressing the issues with which we struggle. Sometimes these spill over into frightening fantasies, waking dreams which give us clues about the origins of suffering. But why sexually violent rats? Why not locusts or fire ants? There are all kinds of tortures the Ratboy could have fixed upon. Freud doesn’t explore the meaning of the symbol.
The trick with symbols is not to be too clever or to assume, with Freud, that they are intent on concealment. Symbols are a language with a purpose like any other, to communicate as clearly as possible. They are problematic because they occur when consciousness is turning a deaf ear. Both the Ratman and Freud shared the same problem. Neither of them could face how the patient had been sexually molested, aggressively intruded upon by a plump, furry thing that awed and frightened him.
When Freud renounced the theory which had made him so unpopular with the Viennese and substituted one they liked a lot better, he effectively excluded adult influence from the causes of psychological disturbance. The roots of madness were then intra-psychic rather than inter-personal. Issues of madness and sanity were no longer about Relatedness. Parental impact on childhood was reduced to the workings of the ‘super-ego’, which, throughout his writing, always seem beyond reproach. It is ‘’ what is highest in the human mind’’ (Freud 2001). He uses the term interchangeably with ‘ego ideal’. If there is a problem regarding ego formation this is put down to the unruly child.
In his paper ‘The Ego and Superego’, he tantalizes us, ‘’I shall presently bring forward a suggestion about the source of the superego’s power to dominate… the source that is, of it’s compulsive character which manifests itself in the form of a categorical imperative.’’ (ibid p374). When we turn to the designated page reference we find, ‘’as the child was once under the compulsion to obey its parents, so the ego submits to the superego.’’ (ibid) The source of the superego’s power is the child’s compulsion to obey. Parents are ideal. No wonder the Victorians loved him. It was the era of the father/king.
The Ratboy was doubly betrayed, first by his nanny and then by his analyst who, because he had renounced his Trauma theory, couldn’t validate the reality of the boy’s subjective experience or help him through it. His new and much more popular theory suggested if children haven’t wholly imagined the abuse then they must have at least been a party to it. This meant that the adult in the equation could be vindicated whilst the wicked child was left in unacknowledged anguish not unlike poor Oedipus whose father had tortured and abandoned him.
Victorian values.
The Victorian age could be characterised by the denial of sexuality. It was an era when ladies fainted at the sight of a chair leg. This denial was at the level of ordinary, healthy, ‘’normal’’ sexuality. What then of sexuality which strayed from this norm? Male homosexuality was a criminal offence at the time. Female homosexuality in England was not criminalised but only because Queen Victoria refused to believe that there was any such thing as a lesbian. If homosexuality ‘dared not speak its name’, or simply didn’t exist, what of sexuality which was clearly deviant?
Husbands were allowed to rape their wives as their ‘conjugal right’ and could beat them too without fear of prosecution or conscience. Child rape was rarely if ever prosecuted successfully. In Austria at the time it was punishable by one to three months imprisonment. What were the chances of speaking openly and candidly about the abuse of children? Society simply refused to do so, denial reflected in the fact that the age of consent was as low as twelve for many years.
Freud’s wildly successful contribution to science was paradoxical. His ideas were so challenging and revolutionary in daring to talk about sex at all, yet permitted society to continue denying their worst secrets. He made it acceptable for society to talk openly about sex, which must have been a relief; yet denied truths a grateful public could not face, which must also have been a relief.
Freud’s theory is the West’s neurotic solution to its own alienation from the body, its erosion of the Continuum. It opened up sexuality for discussion but only by sexualising children. He managed to dovetail his theories with the otherwise insurmountable contradictions of an age determined to adopt both an attitude of unquestionable moral superiority and a set of thoroughly dehumanising attitudes to children.
As soon as he ‘discovered’ infantile sexuality Freud was immediately and heartily endorsed by fellow physicians. They too were clever enough to see the Emperor’s new clothes. Believing in things because we want to, rather than because they are there, is something rather common. We do this out of the fear of chaos inherent in any change, especially wholesale paradigm shifts and so we resist change accordingly.
People believed the earth was flat for a long time after it was circumnavigated. The belief that the sun revolved around the earth persisted for generations after Galileo proved otherwise and the need to believe in witches lasted for centuries backed up by all kinds of incontrovertible ‘evidence’.
We have all experienced presenting someone with undeniable evidence of something which is rejected when it is at odds with a treasured belief. Once, a Jehovah’s Witness tried to convert me with promises of an assured place amongst the 144,000 chosen in Heaven. I pointed out there were more than that number of Witnesses already and therefore my conversion was no guarantee of a reserved place. He simply wouldn’t accept the logic. He accepted the facts but refused to put them together.
What Freud offered us, persuasive enough to have lasted for over a century, is the opportunity to maintain the belief in our own psychological sophistication whilst being relieved of the burdonsome facts of childhood vulnerability. We lapped up his paradigm as eagerly as our ancestors believed in dragons and ice giants. To let his theory go means to raise once more the spectre of child abuse.
Ironically, Freud himself shed light on this negation of childhood suffering in a paper that he wrote 30 years after his ‘discovery’ of infantile sexuality. Occasionally the reality of the inner world bursts through the mask of the false self in the most unlikely and unusual ways.  And so we findFreud himself produced a succinct little four page article entitled ‘Negation’ (1925), in which he states,
“In our interpretation, we take the liberty of disregarding the negation ….. To negate something in a judgement is at bottom to say ‘this is something which I should prefer to repress’. A negative judgement is the intellectual substitute for repression, its ‘no’ is the hallmark of repression ….. Thus, originally, the mere existence of a presentation was a guarantee of the reality of what was represented.”
Freud could have applied these thoughts directly to his own negation of the reality of childhood suffering and its consequences for adult life. This seems not to have crossed his mind. Perhaps this paper was as close as he could get to admitting what he had done. Perhaps the fact that it has taken so long to come to light is as close as we can get to acknowledging our complicity.

based on an extract from my new book, ‘Abundant Delicious’.