This is what she has to say of the influence of the light upon her sleep walking. “Here also Mother's coughing was the external cause as it had been when I was four years old. When Mother was ill, the lamp was left upon the window sill behind the curtain, burning brightly so that she would not be afraid. Now also, at the time of my first complicated sleep walking, such a light was burning behind the curtain throwing its light upon my bed and the wall. Mother had always left the light burning in order to see me at once, after I had sometimes climbed over the side of my crib at the age of four, when she was ill. The light however made me climb over to her, because in the dark no blood could be seen. Also when I began to moan, during my convulsive attacks, she made a light and came to my bed. Or she said, when my bed was pushed close to hers: ‘Wait a moment; I will make a light and take you or you can climb over to me.’ Next day I laughed with my parents over my visit at night, without suspecting that I would soon be repeating it actually in my sleep. And it was only for this, that I might, as at the very first time, enjoy the sight of Mother's blood. Now, when she had a light burning during her illness, this allured me in my sleep to climb out to her, as at that first time when she had made a light especially for me to climb over to her.”
The following memory leads still deeper into the etiology: “Mother always had the habit of going from bed to bed, when we children were asleep, and lighting us with her lamp to make sure that we were asleep. I perceived the light in my sleep, which called me to Mother. She had lighted me that first time so that I might climb into bed with her. Now I thought in my sleep, when I saw the light, that she was calling me again and she found me often at the very point of climbing over to her. I see myself yet today with one foot over the bars, almost in a riding position. Yet nothing ever happened to me. A complete change took place within me when the light of a candle or a lamp fell upon my face. I might almost say that I experienced a great feeling of pleasure. I seemed to myself in my sleep to be a supernatural being. I immediately perceived the light even when I lay in deepest sleep. There was however no sign of waking. This must represent a second form of consciousness, which possessed me at such times. I often asked my mother all sorts of things while wandering about, always knew to whom I spoke although I did not see the person and before I heard anyone speak I already mentioned the person's name. My orientation in sleep walking was so exact that I never once stubbed my toe against anything. It was just so with urination, which was probably connected with the moon or with a night light accidentally falling upon me. As soon as I pressed out secretion or the urine came, I found myself in a half sleep without being able to prevent an excessive feeling of pleasure. Then first I came to myself. This seems to me to go back to the fact that Mother often awoke me on special occasions in the night, holding a lamp or a candle in her hand to set me on the chamber, especially when she heard me moaning in my sleep and suspected a convulsive attack.”
In what follows a complete identification with the mother is reported in detail. That has come in part to our notice in the first sleep walking, when our patient prepares the breakfast for her brother-in-law. “After that first sleep walking when Mother was having hemorrhages, they took place now rather frequently, when the least glimmer of light fell upon me, when Mother, for instance, lighted a candle at night to take some drops for her cough. Thus it happened that almost every night, as long as our beds stood together, I acted this little part. Often my family did not awaken and yet we knew the next day, when something was missing, that I had been the culprit in my sleep, as the next little example will show.
”My greatest wish at that time, at ten years old, was to be ‘Mother’ and have a child that I might bring up as I pleased. One morning when Mother got up and wished to dress herself she did not find her underclothing. We sisters were still fast asleep and Mother did not wish to waken us. She could remember exactly that she had laid her clothing as she always did on the chair near her bed. When she saw that search was in vain she put on fresh linen. Fully an hour later I awoke and was completely astonished to find myself dressed and in Mother's clothing. The puzzle was now solved. The putting on of Mother's clothing during the sleep walking had plainly been merely my wish to put myself into the mother's place and also to play mother, as I did with the children day after day. It was just at this time that I was always seeking to trail around all day with children, whom I tormented, treated cruelly, often even struck them for no cause whatever, always with a great feeling of pleasure, as I myself fared at my mother's hands. It was very frequently the case that I spread the table for a meal, in Mother's place, or put on her linen or outer clothing. This happened most often when she was ill again with her cough or the light shone upon me in my sleep. The light of the candle was sufficient for this.”
At thirteen years she began to be directly affected by the moonlight. “At that time I had to sleep in a small room which my brother had occupied before this. This room looked out upon the court and was, especially on the nights when the moon was full, as bright as if a lamp were burning in the room. I was very much afraid to sleep alone in a room. This was the first time in my life that it had happened. I feared that in every corner some one might be standing and suddenly step forth or might lie hidden behind the bed and although I first let the candle light shine over everything, I had no rest but was in continual fear. I slept here perhaps only fourteen days in all, but it was full moon just at this time and rather bright in the small room.
“Before going to sleep I always barred the door of the room, which near the other door of our house opened upon a small passage. On account of the shop we lived on an upper floor. When I lay in bed I was always thinking that I had not bolted the door well and every night I arose three or four times before going to sleep in order to make sure whether I had actually bolted the door carefully. This I did while awake. Finally I fell asleep. I knew nothing in the morning of what happened in the night. Yet for several days, when I arose in the morning, I found the door which led out of my room upon the passage standing open. I must also have gone about the house during the night, at least have been in the passage. It alarmed Mother and, when early the next day the door was once more open, she said that I need never sleep alone again. I had not had the remotest thought that she would watch me the next night. As usual she could, when I talked in my sleep, ask me about everything and obtain correct answers without wakening me. If however she called my name in fright, when I was walking, as in the scene about to be described, then I awoke. Some nights apparently I roamed about in the house, God knows where, in the moonlight, without any one noticing it. Now it was the window in the passage, which looked into the court and was always closed at night, that was left open. What took place there I cannot say, since no one observed me. I can however describe clearly what my mother saw happen and which she told me afterward.
“Before I lay down I tried the door several times to see if it were securely bolted, then slept until about twelve o'clock. Between twelve and one o'clock, when I as a child had always been most afraid because this was a ghostly hour, my mother, who compelled herself this night to remain awake, heard my door creak slightly. She watched and saw the following: I went out in my nightgown softly to the door and to the window on the passage, which I opened. I swung myself upon that rather high window and remained there a while without moving, sitting there while I gazed straight at the moon. Then—it seemed to my mother like an eternity—I climbed down softly and went quietly along the passage into the first story. Half way along however I considered, turned back and went into my room. Having reached the door I turned once again and went along the passage to the door of the court. This was fastened. Again I turned and now went to the house gate. There I remained standing. I even tried to open it, as if I heard my name called. Then I was frightened, looked about me and was awake. Shaking with cold, for I was there half naked, I could scarcely orient myself. Then I crept to my bed and slept without waking.
“This happened in the second week. Every morning my door was open so that I had to sleep again in Mother's room. The moon never shone in there and the night light was covered. Nevertheless the sleep walking began also in this room in two weeks, if only the light of the candle fell upon me in my sleep. More often I lighted the candle myself in my sleep and went around in the room and the kitchen. Sometimes Mother found me standing by the door of the shop apparently about to open it and walk out. Now I have frequently, when I am lying in bed, the desire to spring out of the window, or to open both casements to get air for I am often afraid of choking. Mother had often felt this way in her illness. It also happened that Mother found me sitting by my chest, where I was looking for something which I had needed the day before and intended looking for the next day. I had laid out all my possessions about me. If Mother called me by name, I awoke; if she did not call me but only spoke in a certain way to me, I answered her everything without waking. I got up in my sleep, put on my mother's clothes, put on a cape and a nightcap, bade farewell to the children, to whom I wanted to be the mother, charged them to be brave and promised to bring them something. Then I took a piece of wood in my hand for an umbrella and walked about the room as if holding it opened out over my head because the sun shone. In reality it was the shining of the lamp. Mother's clothes were long and yet I wore the train beautifully and gracefully, without stepping on the skirt. My mother doubled herself with laughter when she saw such a caricature. Mostly I played the mother. Often I carried a small piece of wood wrapped in a cloth as a child in my arm and laid it on my breast. I sang songs, hushed at the same time other children—and knew nothing at all of it next day. Mother laughed most over this, that when I dressed myself, I first turned everything wrong side out. This goes back to the fact that Mother sometimes, when she had to get up in the night on my account and was half asleep, slipped her robe on twisted and wrong side out. These things lasted until my seventeenth year, when Mother was sick and I, as related above, made coffee in the presence of the Sister of Mercy.[8]
“Mother was rather often ill, so that beside the care of her, in which later a nurse assisted us, the shop had also to be looked after, which always demanded one person during the day. If I lay down upon my bed after two or three weeks of nursing, I fell into a deep sleep. This never hindered me however from being in my place to the minute, when my mother's medicine was to be taken. My mother could have anything from me, although I lay in a deep sleep. She did not need to speak, and if she wanted anything, she spoke it half aloud. The Sister, over weary from night watching, slept lightly, but if Mother needed anything, it was sufficient for her to breathe my name and I was awake, although otherwise I did not hear well and must always be aroused for some time before I was fully awake.
“In reality I merely imitated my mother in my sleep walking. In the first place it was my wish to hold some object in my arms during the night, or lay it near me, as if it were my child, to have one that I might play with it sexually. In the second place this went back to my early childhood when I lay near my mother and she played thus with me. In the third place it referred to a later time when I felt as a mother toward my doll, and never allowed it out of my lap by day nor out of my arms at night. When Mother wished to quiet me if I was suddenly afraid of ugly creatures at night, she had to make a light as quickly as possible. Then she took me upon her arm or laid me close to her. The light must however remain burning until I had fallen asleep so that the horrible faces could not torture me. As a child I often cried only for the light; it was the light that first completely quieted me. I longed indeed for the light that I might see the blood, and at the same time excite myself upon my mother.”