Then it followed that C, conscious of these contrary impulses, reproached herself for them, thought herself wicked to have them, and when they became insistent repressed them. Their intrusion into consciousness was probably favored by a considerable degree of neurasthenia, for when she was ill they were more frequent and obtrusive, while with good health and happiness they disappeared, as is the case with all obsessing ideas.

The occurrence of such contrary impulses would probably have been of no account and nothing more would have been heard from them, as in the case of ordinary mortals, if it had not been for a period of stress and strain which she was destined to undergo. As it was, the awakening of these contrary thoughts and impulses was fraught with a danger to the psychical unity, a danger that actually materialized, namely: as these conflicting impulses, being also rebellious against the conditions of life, were constantly awakened contemporaneously with the specialized frequently recurring “rebellious complex,” the whole tended to become synthesized into a large complex which later, during the second period of stress and strain, became in turn the nucleus of a still larger complex (B). During this latter period, as we shall see, like the forces of a growing political revolution, the rebellious thoughts and impulses increased in number, frequency and intensity, until there were times when they acquired the mastery in the conflicts and repressed the previously opposing thoughts of duty, affection, etc., and dominated the personality. The effect of such intense conflict was to cause by repression a rift in the personality, i.e., to dissociate a large system of ideas (with their emotions), from other systems. All this will appear as we go on.

There is another point which it is interesting here to note. The secondary phase B looking back recognizes (i.e., has a sense of awareness) that the “rebellious thoughts” and the various contrary impulses were herself. “I was the rebellion;” “I think of the rebellion as myself;” “I was the rebellion which she kept to herself;” “The first complex formed a something I am;” “I think I am made up of all the impulses which began to come then;” "It seems to me, as I think of it now, that I was always there—sometimes more, sometimes less—in the form of conflicting impulses.“ In these and similar phrases B, over and over again, in numerous analyses at widely separated intervals, identifies these early conscious processes with her own individuality. Nevertheless, ”I was not an I then, you know," she explains, “but to understand what I write you will have to call me so. I remember them now as my thoughts, but at that time I never thought of myself as a self.” “I never thought, ‘I’ do not like this or that then; it was like an impulse in the other direction.” Let it not be forgotten, then, that at the beginning the rebellious complex and impulses were not synthesized and segregated as an ego. Nevertheless, in fact, whenever she attempts to describe the early rebellious complex and the impulses she drops into the mode of saying, “I felt so and so,” and finds herself obliged to use this personal pronoun when thinking of these past thoughts, and the same is true when she speaks of the more fully developed subsequent B complex.

You will say that there is nothing particularly remarkable or unusual in this. We all think of our past thoughts as our own, even when they occurred, say, in absent mindedness when there was no consciousness of self. But the unusual thing is that B—the subject in the B phase of personality—does not think of C’s other thoughts or conscious experiences as her own. In fact she persistently refuses to recognize these others as hers. She has no feeling of their having belonged to her own consciousness. “They were not my thoughts,” she says. This is true of this other content of the conscious life of the early first period as well as of the later periods when the B complex and the B personality appeared. “She liked,” such and such a thing; “I didn’t!” "She thought,“ so and so; ”I didn’t;" referring respectively to the thoughts of the dominant consciousness and the contrary thoughts. “Yet in referring to the B complex,” she writes of the second period, “I find myself continually saying ‘I’; it is difficult not to do so. This, I think, must show the intimate relation between the two. I think of the B complex and I find I think of it as myself, although I do not think of A and C as myself, and they do not seem to be my own personality.”

This feeling by a secondary personality that certain conscious experiences belong, or belonged, to her own personal consciousness or ego and that others do not, or did not, belong is a common phenomenon in such cases and is of great significance. It is a phenomenon which justifies the inference that the relation which one system of ideas bears to that which we call the ego is different from that of the other system; it is a phenomenon, too, which must be taken into account in solving the problem of the ego. When we study the records of cases of multiple personality we find as a frequent observation that the secondary personality distinguishes between the conscious experiences which belong to itself and those which belong to the principal personality, and to other secondary personalities, if more than one. This differentiation is based upon the feeling of a particular self-consciousness being attached to the former and not to the latter. The conception of self and the self-regarding sentiment differ markedly in their content in the different phases of personality. The analysis of their contents shows this to be the case: e. g., the contained images and affects. It is not, therefore, simply a matter of the experiences occurring at different chronological epochs. Indeed the two different sets of experiences may be synchronous, one being conscious and the other co-conscious.

I have passed over a question which is sure to be asked: Why did the “unexpectedly disagreeable” situation, whatever it was, occasion the “shock” and the rebellious complex? I may say frankly that the situation was not one which would induce such a disastrous effect in the ordinary individual. The answer is to be found in the principle of settings which give meaning to ideas. [Every idea over and above the sensory images which take part in its content has meaning; and the meaning is determined by antecedent experiences (thoughts, perceptions, feelings, etc.) with which it is associated, i.e., in which it is set. An idea of a particular individual, for example, has one meaning for one person and another meaning for another according to the associated mental experiences of each. These experiences form the setting or context which determines the meaning, point of view, and attitude of mind towards any given object or situation presented to consciousness.][[279]] Whenever an emotional “shock” (one that is not a simple instinct reaction) occurs, this setting of antecedent experiences, organized with the idea and emotions, acts as a unitary complex, a psychic whole, and behaves as a sort of psychological torch which some later experience sets aflame, so to speak, as an emotional shock. Because of this setting the idea reacts in accordance with the emotions (fear, disgust, etc.) which the “meaning” includes, and induces a defense reaction. Now analytical investigation revealed settings to the “situation” dating in part from early childhood and in part from later experiences. An attitude of mind, therefore, already existed which was ready to react with the emotions (fear and disgust) which were excited by the meaning of the situation. It is easy to see, in the light of the actual facts, that if a certain factor of the situation had been altered, without altering the situation itself, its meaning would have been altered, i.e., it would not have awakened the setting built up by the experiences of life, and would not have excited the emotional response (shock) that ensued.

DISSOCIATION

But the organization of an emotional complex was not the whole effect of these experiences. In addition, if the memories of B can be trusted—and I believe they can—there resulted in a minor degree a cleavage or dissociation of personality. This was not so pronounced as to give rise to noticeable pathological manifestations, but apparently sufficient to make at least a line of indenture, so to speak, which afterwards was easily broadened and deepened into a complete dissociation. This is not easy to demonstrate at this late date, but there are certain facts that have some evidential value.

In the first place, according to the evidence, there developed a tendency in what we have called the rebellious complex to take on independent activity, or an automatism after the nature of an obsession, outside the domain of the will and self-control. No amount of reasoning or of self-reproach sufficed to change the point of view. Like an obsession it would not down and recurred automatically.

In the second place, it seems, according to B’s memories, that the activity of the rebellious complex of ideas began to take place to a certain extent outside the focus of the attentive consciousness, in the sense that the personal consciousness was not conscious or aware of their presence. This means that at times when the ideas in question were not in consciousness, and therefore might be supposed to be dormant in the unconscious, they recurred nevertheless and were in subconscious activity, i.e., were co-conscious. This statement is based upon the interrogation of B who to the best of her memory thought that the “rebellious ideas were split off and went on by themselves while the subject C was thinking of other things, without her being aware of them.” “They were co-conscious as I know it now.”