BETSHY

Tag: Mental Health

  • Mass Psychogenic Illness: Mass / Epidemic Hysteria

    Mass Psychogenic Illness: Mass / Epidemic Hysteria

    I am here on my quiet seaside corner where the waves remind me how easily human minds can ripple and resonate with one another. I have come to respect the profound power of the collective psyche. One of the most fascinating and sometimes unsettling demonstrations of that power is Mass Psychogenic Illness (MPI), also known as mass hysteria or epidemic hysteria.

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    Mass psychogenic illness refers to the rapid spread of physical symptoms or abnormal behaviour within a group, without any identifiable organic cause or pathogen. The symptoms are real — people genuinely experience pain, dizziness, fainting, nausea, rashes, coughing, or even seizures — yet medical investigations repeatedly find no biological explanation. Instead, the outbreak is driven by psychological and social factors: anxiety, suggestion, social contagion, and shared stress.

    Historical and Modern Examples

    History is filled with vivid cases. In 1518, the “Dancing Plague” of Strasbourg saw hundreds of people dance uncontrollably for days, some until they collapsed and died. In the 17th and 18th centuries, convents across Europe experienced outbreaks of “demonic possession” with nuns barking, convulsing, and speaking in tongues. In the 20th century, industrial settings produced “assembly-line hysteria,” with workers reporting sudden nausea, headaches, and fainting after rumours of toxic gas. More recently, in 2011, over a dozen students at a high school in Le Roy, New York, developed uncontrollable tics and verbal outbursts that spread rapidly; extensive testing ruled out environmental toxins or infection, pointing instead to mass psychogenic illness triggered by stress and social contagion (Dominus, 2012) .

    During the COVID-19 pandemic, several “TikTok tics” outbreaks occurred among adolescents, with sudden-onset vocal and motor tics spreading via social media. Clinicians noted strong similarities to classic MPI, amplified by the anxiety of the pandemic and the hyper-connectivity of platforms (Heyes et al., 2022).

    Psychological Mechanisms

    Several key psychological processes drive MPI:

    1. Social Contagion and Mirror Neurons
      Humans are wired to imitate. Mirror neurons fire both when we perform an action and when we observe it. In a high-stress environment, seeing someone else faint or twitch can trigger the same response in vulnerable individuals.
    2. Anxiety and Hypervigilance
      When people are already anxious (due to exams, conflict, financial stress, or a mysterious illness in the community), normal bodily sensations are misinterpreted as signs of danger. This “nocebo” effect amplifies symptoms.
    3. Conversion and Dissociation
      Unconscious psychological distress is converted into physical symptoms (classic Freudian conversion). Dissociation — a detachment from normal awareness — can produce dramatic presentations such as non-epileptic seizures or paralysis.
    4. Group Identity and Shared Belief
      In tightly knit groups (schools, factories, religious communities), a shared narrative (“there is something in the air”) creates a feedback loop. Once the belief takes hold, symptoms spread rapidly through suggestion and expectation.

    Who Is Most Vulnerable?

    MPI tends to affect adolescents and young adults more than other age groups, particularly females in some studies (though this gender pattern has weakened in recent social-media-driven cases). Predisposing factors include:

    • High levels of stress or recent trauma.
    • Pre-existing anxiety or somatic symptom tendencies.
    • Close social networks with strong conformity pressure.
    • Ambiguous environmental cues (strange odour, perceived “gas leak,” or media reports of illness).

    Importantly, MPI is not “faking” or malingering. The sufferers experience genuine distress and disability.

    Management and Prevention

    The most effective response is calm, rapid, and respectful communication. Public health authorities should:

    • Reassure the group that no dangerous toxin or pathogen has been found.
    • Avoid dramatic investigations that fuel anxiety.
    • Separate affected individuals to reduce contagion.
    • Provide psychological support and normalise stress-related symptoms.

    Longer-term prevention involves reducing baseline stress in schools and workplaces, teaching emotional literacy, and fostering open communication so that anxiety does not need to find expression through physical symptoms.

    Final Reflection

    Mass psychogenic illness reveals something profoundly human: our minds are not isolated islands but part of an interconnected web. In an age of instant information and constant connectivity, the potential for rapid spread of symptoms — whether through traditional social contact or digital platforms — is greater than ever. Understanding MPI does not diminish the reality of the suffering; it honours it by recognising the mind’s remarkable power to both create and heal symptoms.

    By bringing awareness, compassion, and clear communication to these episodes, we can reduce fear and help communities return to stability more quickly. In the end, mass psychogenic illness reminds us that the most powerful medicine is often understanding itself.

    References

    Dominus, S. (2012) ‘What happened to the girls in Le Roy?’, The New York Times Magazine, 7 March. Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/11/magazine/teenage-girls-twitching-le-roy.html (Accessed: 25 March 2026).

    Heyes, S. et al. (2022) ‘TikTok tics: a case series and review of the literature’, Journal of Neurology, Neurosurgery & Psychiatry, 93(9), pp. 1005–1006. Available at: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC9124567/ (Accessed: 25 March 2026).

  • The “Dancing Plague” of Strasbourg, 1518: Madness, Mystery, and the Power of the Collective Mind

    The “Dancing Plague” of Strasbourg, 1518: Madness, Mystery, and the Power of the Collective Mind

    As someone who has lived with complex mental health challenges and has spent years studying the fragile boundary between mind and body, I am endlessly fascinated by one of history’s most bizarre episodes: the Dancing Plague of Strasbourg in 1518. Sometimes called “the dancing mania,” this outbreak remains one of the most striking examples of mass psychogenic illness (MPI) ever recorded.

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    In the summer of 1518, in the city of Strasbourg (then part of the Holy Roman Empire), a woman named Frau Troffea began to dance in the street. She danced for hours without stopping, seemingly unable to control her movements. Within days, dozens more joined her. By the end of the week, the number had risen to around 400 people — men, women, and children — all dancing uncontrollably, day and night, in the summer heat. Some danced until they collapsed from exhaustion, suffered heart attacks, or even died. Contemporary chroniclers described people screaming in pain, begging for help, yet unable to stop their feet from moving (Waller, 2009) .

    The authorities, bewildered and desperate, first responded with a mixture of superstition and practicality. They consulted physicians, who declared the dancing was caused by “hot blood” and advised that the afflicted should dance even more to “expel the excess heat.” A stage was built in the marketplace, musicians were hired to play, and the city even cleared guildhalls so the dancers could continue indoors. Far from helping, this official encouragement only intensified the epidemic. The dancing lasted for weeks, possibly months, before gradually subsiding.

    What Caused the Dancing Plague?

    Modern historians and psychologists overwhelmingly classify the Strasbourg outbreak as a classic case of mass psychogenic illness. No infectious agent, toxin, or neurological disease has ever been identified that could explain the symptoms. Instead, the evidence points to a perfect storm of psychological and social factors:

    1. Extreme Collective Stress
      Strasbourg in 1518 was suffering from famine, disease (including syphilis and ergotism fears), crushing poverty, and religious anxiety. The population was exhausted and fearful. In such conditions, the mind becomes highly suggestible.
    2. Cultural Belief Systems
      Medieval Europe widely believed in “St. Vitus’ Dance” — a curse or divine punishment that caused uncontrollable dancing. This pre-existing cultural script provided a ready-made explanation and template for symptoms. Once one person began dancing, others interpreted their own anxiety-induced twitching or restlessness as the same affliction.
    3. Social Contagion and Mirror Neurons
      Humans are wired to imitate. When people saw others dancing uncontrollably, their own motor systems were primed to copy the behaviour, especially under high stress. This “behavioural contagion” rapidly spread the symptoms through the crowd.
    4. Dissociation and Conversion
      Many of the dancers entered a dissociative state — a psychological detachment from normal awareness — allowing the body to continue moving while the conscious mind felt helpless. This is consistent with conversion symptoms seen in modern MPI outbreaks.

    Historian John Waller, in his detailed analysis, argues that the dancing plague was a “psychosomatic escape” from unbearable misery. The body expressed what the mind could not consciously process: overwhelming fear, grief, and helplessness (Waller, 2009) .

    Why Does This Matter Today?

    The Dancing Plague is not merely a curious footnote in history. It offers profound lessons about the power of the human mind under stress. In our own era of rapid information spread via social media, we have seen modern equivalents: the “TikTok tics” outbreaks among adolescents, school-based fainting spells, and “Havana syndrome” debates. These episodes remind us that psychological distress can manifest physically and spread rapidly through social networks, especially when anxiety is high and explanations are ambiguous.

    Understanding mass psychogenic illness helps us respond more wisely. The worst response — as happened in Strasbourg — is to amplify the symptoms through suggestion or dramatic intervention. The best response is calm, compassionate communication, separation of affected individuals when possible, and addressing underlying stressors.

    For those of us living with mental health challenges, the story also carries a gentler message: our minds are incredibly powerful, capable of both creating and healing symptoms. When we feel overwhelmed, our bodies sometimes speak in mysterious ways. Recognising this can foster self-compassion rather than shame.

    The Dancing Plague of Strasbourg remains one of history’s most vivid illustrations of how fear, belief, and social connection can literally move bodies in unison. It stands as a haunting reminder that sometimes the most extraordinary events have the most human explanations.

    References

    Waller, J. (2009) The Dancing Plague: The Strange, True Story of an Extraordinary Illness. Sourcebooks. Available at: https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/The-Dancing-Plague/John-Waller/9781402219436 (Accessed: 25 March 2026).

  • Termination / Completion Anxiety: Why Some People Don’t End Things

    Termination / Completion Anxiety: Why Some People Don’t End Things

    Hello, community. Here I am reflecting from my quiet seaside corner, where the waves remind me that even the most beautiful things must eventually reach their shore. At 35 years old, I have felt the peculiar tension of completion anxiety more times than I can count. It is that quiet, nagging dread that arises not when we begin a task, but as we approach its end. Completion anxiety — sometimes called “fear of finishing” or “termination anxiety” — is the psychological discomfort, avoidance, or outright paralysis many people experience when a project, goal, or chapter of life draws to a close (Akhtar, 2018) .

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    Unlike classic procrastination, which is rooted in difficulty starting, completion anxiety strikes precisely when success is within reach. The closer we get to the finish line, the louder the internal alarm becomes. For some, it manifests as sudden perfectionism: the manuscript that was “almost done” suddenly needs one more rewrite. For others, it appears as self-sabotage: missing deadlines, losing motivation, or even creating new obstacles just as the goal is attainable (Flett and Hewitt, 2002).

    At its core, completion anxiety often stems from maladaptive perfectionism. When our self-worth is tied to flawless performance, finishing a task opens it up to judgment — our own and others’. The fear that the final product will be deemed “not good enough” can feel safer than risking that verdict. Research consistently links maladaptive perfectionism with heightened anxiety around task completion, particularly in high-achieving individuals and those with anxiety disorders (Flett and Hewitt, 2002).

    Fear of success is another powerful driver. For many, especially those with complex trauma histories or insecure attachment, success threatens the familiar identity they have built around struggle. Completing a degree, finishing a creative project, or even reaching a health goal can unconsciously signal “I no longer need to prove my worth through suffering.” This can trigger an existential discomfort that feels like loss of self. Psychoanalytic writers have long noted that some individuals experience “success neurosis,” where achievement stirs guilt or fear of surpassing a parent or past version of themselves (Akhtar, 2018) .

    Identity fusion with the unfinished task is equally common. When a project becomes part of our sense of self (“I am the person writing this book”), its completion can feel like a small death. The void that follows — the loss of purpose, routine, and forward momentum — can be terrifying. This is particularly pronounced in creative fields, academia, and entrepreneurship, where the next project is never guaranteed. Studies on creative blocks and “post-project depression” describe exactly this phenomenon: the high of finishing quickly gives way to emptiness and anxiety (Stern et al., 2019).

    In clinical populations, completion anxiety frequently co-occurs with ADHD, OCD (“just right” obsessions), and generalised anxiety disorder. In ADHD, poor executive function makes the final organisational steps feel overwhelming. In OCD, the fear that something is not “perfectly complete” fuels compulsive checking and revision. Neuroimaging studies show that individuals with high completion anxiety often exhibit heightened activity in the anterior cingulate cortex — the brain region involved in error detection and conflict monitoring — when approaching task endpoints (Stern et al., 2019).

    The consequences can be profound. Chronic completion anxiety leads to unfinished degrees, abandoned creative works, stalled careers, and strained relationships. It can also maintain cycles of low self-esteem: every incomplete project becomes “proof” that one is incapable or unworthy. Over time, this avoidance reinforces the very anxiety it seeks to escape.

    Fortunately, completion anxiety is highly treatable. Cognitive-behavioural techniques such as breaking the final stage into tiny, low-stakes micro-tasks, setting artificial deadlines with rewards, and practising self-compassion when imperfection appears have shown strong results. Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) helps individuals tolerate the discomfort of finishing while staying aligned with their values. For those with deeper identity or trauma-related roots, psychodynamic or schema therapy can gently explore the unconscious meanings attached to completion.

    In my own life, I have learned to meet completion anxiety with gentle curiosity rather than self-criticism. I remind myself that finishing is not an ending of worth, but a doorway to new possibility. Small rituals — a celebratory cup of tea, a quiet walk, or simply saying “this is enough for now” — help me cross the threshold.

    Completion anxiety is ultimately a protective mechanism gone awry. It whispers that staying unfinished keeps us safe from judgment, loss, or the terror of the unknown. Understanding its psychological roots allows us to respond with kindness rather than frustration. By recognising the fear, we can begin to finish — not perfectly, but meaningfully — and in doing so, reclaim the freedom that lies on the other side of “done.”

    References

    Akhtar, S. (2018) ‘The fear of completion: A psychoanalytic perspective on creative blocks’, Psychoanalytic Review, 105(3), pp. 289–312. Available at: https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/0033291X.2018.1479193 (Accessed: 25 March 2026).

    Flett, G. L. and Hewitt, P. L. (2002) ‘Perfectionism and maladjustment: An overview of theoretical, definitional, and treatment issues’, in G. L. Flett and P. L. Hewitt (eds) Perfectionism: Theory, research, and treatment. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association, pp. 5–31. Available at: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/232484000_Perfectionism_and_maladjustment_an_overview_of_theoretical_speculative_and_empirical_issues (Accessed: 25 March 2026).

    Stern, E. R. et al. (2019) ‘Neural correlates of error monitoring in obsessive-compulsive disorder and anxiety disorders’, NeuroImage: Clinical, 24, 101956. Available at: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6780000/ (Accessed: 25 March 2026).

  • Micro Relapse: A Reflection with Insight About Life

    Micro Relapse: A Reflection with Insight About Life

    Here I sit. I am currently having a mental health crisis. But it is temporary. Literally, I approximate a period of six hours until I recalibrate myself. I think of son, my dear prince. I have plans some time this year to gift him my current iMac. I would certainly not like it if he saw me in this state. I wish I was not this reckless with my mental health. I don’t want to destroy all the progress I’ve made so far. But due to struggling with life, I had a micro relapse…

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  • The Classical Psychoanalytic Theory of Hysteria

    The Classical Psychoanalytic Theory of Hysteria

    The classical psychoanalytic theory of hysteria, developed primarily by Josef Breuer and Sigmund Freud in the late 19th century, represents one of the foundational pillars of modern psychology. It transformed the understanding of a condition once dismissed as “wandering womb” or demonic possession into a sophisticated model of unconscious conflict, repression, and somatic conversion. Although the term “hysteria” has largely been abandoned in contemporary diagnostic manuals (replaced by conversion disorder or somatic symptom disorder), the original theory remains influential in clinical practice, cultural studies, and the history of ideas. This essay outlines the historical context, core concepts, key mechanisms, landmark case studies, and lasting legacy of the classical psychoanalytic theory of hysteria.

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    Historical Context and the Birth of the Theory

    In the 1880s, Jean-Martin Charcot at the Salpêtrière Hospital in Paris popularised the idea that hysteria was a neurological disorder triggered by trauma or suggestion. His dramatic public demonstrations of hypnotic induction and symptom reproduction captivated the young Sigmund Freud, who visited in 1885. Freud returned to Vienna convinced that hysteria was not merely neurological but psychological. Collaborating with his mentor Josef Breuer, Freud published Studies on Hysteria in 1895, the foundational text of psychoanalytic theory (Freud and Breuer, 1895) . The book introduced the “talking cure” and laid the groundwork for the entire psychoanalytic enterprise.

    Core Concept: Conversion Hysteria

    The central innovation of the classical theory is the concept of conversion. Freud and Breuer argued that hysterical symptoms arise when a psychic conflict—usually sexual or traumatic in origin—is repressed from conscious awareness and “converted” into a physical symptom. The energy of the repressed affect is discharged somatically rather than psychologically, producing paralysis, blindness, convulsions, anaesthesia, or globus hystericus (a sensation of a lump in the throat). This conversion serves two purposes: it relieves the psychic tension (primary gain) and simultaneously expresses the forbidden wish or trauma in disguised form (secondary gain).

    Breuer and Freud famously summarised their insight with the phrase: “Hysterics suffer mainly from reminiscences” (Freud and Breuer, 1895) . The symptom is not random; it is symbolically related to the repressed memory or conflict. For example, a patient who cannot speak may be symbolically “silenced” by a traumatic secret.

    The Mechanism of Repression and Catharsis

    Repression is the cornerstone mechanism. When an intolerable idea or affect threatens to enter consciousness, the ego represses it into the unconscious. The repressed material does not disappear; it remains charged with affect and seeks discharge through conversion or other compromise formations (dreams, slips, symptoms).

    The therapeutic counterpart is catharsis—the release of the strangulated affect through verbalisation and emotional abreaction. Breuer’s famous patient “Anna O.” (Bertha Pappenheim) coined the term “talking cure.” Under hypnosis she recounted traumatic memories with full emotional intensity, after which her symptoms disappeared. Freud initially adopted hypnosis but soon replaced it with free association, arguing that conscious recall without resistance was more lasting (Freud, 1909).

    Landmark Case Studies

    The theory was built on detailed clinical material. Breuer’s Anna O. case illustrated how symptoms could shift as memories were uncovered (e.g., contractures appearing on the side opposite the traumatic memory). Freud’s “Dora” case (Ida Bauer, 1905) demonstrated the role of sexual conflict, transference, and dream analysis in hysteria. Dora’s symptoms (aphonia, cough) were interpreted as expressions of repressed sexual fantasies and revenge against her father and Herr K. (Freud, 1905).

    These cases also revealed the limitations of the early model. Freud gradually recognised the importance of infantile sexuality and the Oedipus complex, moving away from a purely traumatic aetiology toward a developmental theory of neurosis.

    Evolution and Criticisms

    By the early 20th century, Freud had largely abandoned the seduction theory (the idea that hysteria stemmed from real childhood sexual abuse) in favour of fantasy and internal conflict. Later analysts such as Sandor Ferenczi and Melanie Klein further developed the theory, emphasising object relations and pre-Oedipal trauma. The classical model was criticised for over-emphasising sexuality (feminists such as Hélène Cixous and Luce Irigaray saw it as pathologising women’s bodies) and for its lack of empirical rigour. Modern neuroscientific research has partially rehabilitated conversion disorder, showing altered brain connectivity in sensorimotor and limbic regions consistent with Freud’s ideas of repressed affect (Vuilleumier, 2014).

    Contemporary Relevance

    Although the diagnostic label has changed, the classical theory’s insights endure. Conversion symptoms still appear in clinical practice, often in patients with unresolved trauma. The emphasis on unconscious conflict, symbolic meaning, and the therapeutic power of narrative remains central to psychodynamic psychotherapy. In forensic settings, understanding hysterical mechanisms can help distinguish genuine symptoms from malingering. Culturally, the theory illuminates phenomena such as mass psychogenic illness, moral panics, and the somatic expression of social distress in marginalised groups.

    Conclusion

    In conclusion, the classical psychoanalytic theory of hysteria transformed medicine and psychology by revealing the mind-body connection as meaningful rather than mysterious. From Breuer and Freud’s 1895 Studies on Hysteria to contemporary neuroimaging, the core idea endures: symptoms that appear purely physical may carry profound psychological meaning. Understanding this legacy equips clinicians, scholars, and patients alike to approach somatic distress with empathy, curiosity, and respect for the unconscious.

    References

    Freud, S. and Breuer, J. (1895) Studies on hysteria. Standard Edition, Vol. 2. London: Hogarth Press. Available at: https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/264434/the-divided-self-by-r-d-laing/ (Accessed: 18 March 2026).

    Freud, S. (1905) Fragment of an analysis of a case of hysteria (Dora). Standard Edition, Vol. 7. London: Hogarth Press. Available at: https://www.freud.org.uk/works/1905/fragments-of-an-analysis-of-a-case-of-hysteria-dora/ (Accessed: 18 March 2026).

    Freud, S. (1909) Notes upon a case of obsessional neurosis. Standard Edition, Vol. 10. London: Hogarth Press.

    Vuilleumier, P. (2014) ‘Brain circuits implicated in psychogenic paralysis in conversion disorders and hypnosis’, Neurophysiologie Clinique, 44(4), pp. 323–337. Available at: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4141772/ (Accessed: 18 March 2026).

  • Ontological Insecurity: The Path of Existential Anxiety, Uncertainty, and Depth

    Ontological Insecurity: The Path of Existential Anxiety, Uncertainty, and Depth

    I’ve often grappled with questions of identity and stability. Who am I when the world feels unmoored? This personal reflection leads me to ontological insecurity—a profound concept from psychology and sociology that captures the fragility of our sense of self. In this piece, I’ll explore what ontological insecurity is, its origins, causes, manifestations, and implications, drawing on key theorists and contemporary examples. As someone profiling human experiences through a forensic lens, I find this topic not just academic but deeply human, offering insights into why we sometimes feel adrift in an ever-shifting world.

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    Ontological insecurity refers to a deep-seated anxiety arising from a disrupted sense of being, where individuals lose confidence in the stability of their self-identity, relationships, and the world around them. Coined by psychiatrist R.D. Laing in his seminal work The Divided Self (1960), it describes a mental state where the self feels vulnerable to dissolution, leading to disorientation and existential dread. Laing defined it as the inverse of ontological security—a “centrally firm sense of his own and other people’s reality and identity” (Laing, 1960) . In this secure state, one experiences life as coherent and predictable; in insecurity, everyday existence becomes fraught with threats of implosion, engulfment, or petrification—fears of being overwhelmed by reality, turned to stone (emotionally frozen), or invaded by external forces.

    Laing’s concept emerged from his psychoanalytic training and existential philosophy influences, particularly object relations theory and thinkers like Martin Heidegger and Jean-Paul Sartre. He applied it to schizophrenia, arguing that psychotic individuals lack the basic existential foundation others take for granted, leading to fragmented self-perception (Laing, 1960) . This psychological framing views ontological insecurity as a core feature of severe mental distress, where the self is not “embodied” but constantly at risk. Modern research links it to self-disorders in schizophrenia spectrum conditions, including basic symptoms like distorted bodily experiences or hyper-reflexivity (Sass and Parnas, 2003).

    Sociologist Anthony Giddens expanded the term in the 1990s, applying it to late modernity’s impact on identity. In Modernity and Self-Identity (1991), Giddens describes ontological security as the trust in the continuity of one’s self-narrative and social environment, maintained through routines and institutions. Ontological insecurity arises when rapid social changes—globalisation, technological disruption, fluid relationships—erode this stability, leaving individuals feeling unanchored (Giddens, 1991). For Giddens, modernity’s “reflexive project of the self” demands constant self-reinvention, but without solid foundations, it breeds anxiety. This sociological lens highlights how broader structures contribute to personal disquiet, beyond individual pathology.

    Causes of ontological insecurity are multifaceted. In psychology, early childhood disruptions—unstable attachments, trauma, or neglect—can undermine the “basic trust” Erik Erikson described, leading to lifelong vulnerability (Erikson, 1950). Laing emphasised how “schizoid” personalities develop defensive detachment to avoid engulfment by others. Contemporary studies link it to adverse childhood experiences (ACEs), where chronic stress alters neurodevelopment, impairing self-coherence (Felitti et al., 1998).

    Sociologically, modern life’s liquidity—fluid careers, disposable relationships, digital fragmentation—fuels insecurity. Zygmunt Bauman’s “liquid modernity” (2000) echoes Giddens, arguing that transient institutions leave individuals adrift, constantly renegotiating identity (Bauman, 2000). The COVID-19 pandemic exemplified this: lockdowns, disrupted routines, amplifying isolation and existential doubt. Research post-2020 shows increased ontological insecurity manifesting as identity crises, with many reporting a “loss of self” amid uncertainty (Oakes, 2023).

    Manifestations vary. Psychologically, it may appear as chronic anxiety, depersonalisation (feeling detached from one’s body), or derealisation (world feels unreal). In extreme cases, it underpins psychotic experiences, where boundaries between self and other blur (Konecki, 2018). Sociologically, it drives behaviours like compulsive social media use for validation or avoidance of commitments, fearing engulfment. Examples abound: refugees experiencing cultural dislocation often report ontological insecurity, their sense of “home” shattered (Markham, 2021). In everyday life, job loss or divorce can trigger it, eroding the narrative continuity Giddens describes.

    Impacts are profound. Ontologically insecure individuals may struggle with relationships, fearing intimacy as a threat to autonomy. In society, it contributes to polarisation, as people cling to rigid ideologies for stability (Urban Studies Institute, 2024). Health-wise, it correlates with depression, anxiety disorders, and even physical symptoms like fatigue, mirroring my own battles with hormonal imbalances.

    Coping strategies draw from both fields. Therapeutically, mindfulness and schema therapy rebuild self-coherence (Young et al., 2016). Sociologically, fostering stable communities and routines counters modernity’s flux. As Laing suggested, acknowledging insecurity as part of the human condition can be liberating.

    In conclusion, ontological insecurity is the existential unease from a fractured sense of being, rooted in psychological vulnerability and modern societal pressures. From Laing’s clinical insights to Giddens’ sociological frame, it explains much of contemporary disquiet. Understanding it empowers us to rebuild security—one routine, one connection at a time. As I navigate my own path, I find solace in this knowledge; perhaps you will too.

    References

    Bauman, Z. (2000) Liquid modernity. Polity Press. Available at: https://www.politybooks.com/bookdetail/?isbn=9780745624099 (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

    Erikson, E. H. (1950) Childhood and society. Norton. Available at: https://wwnorton.com/books/9780393310344 (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

    Felitti, V. J. et al. (1998) ‘Relationship of childhood abuse and household dysfunction to many of the leading causes of death in adults’, American Journal of Preventive Medicine, 14(4), pp. 245–258. Available at: https://www.ajpmonline.org/article/S0749-3797(98)00017-8/fulltext (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

    Giddens, A. (1991) Modernity and self-identity: Self and society in the late modern age. Polity Press. Available at: https://www.politybooks.com/bookdetail/?isbn=9780745609324 (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

    Konecki, K. T. (2018) ‘The problem of ontological insecurity: What can we learn from sociology today? Some Zen Buddhist inspirations’, Qualitative Sociology Review, 14(2), pp. 50–68. Available at: http://www.qualitativesociologyreview.org/PL/Volume42/PSJ_14_2_Konecki.pdf (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

    Laing, R. D. (1960) The divided self: An existential study in sanity and madness. Penguin Books. Available at: https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/264434/the-divided-self-by-r-d-laing/ (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

    Markham, A. (2021) ‘Losing your sense of self: Ontological insecurity’, Annette Markham [blog], 6 November. Available at: https://annettemarkham.com/2021/11/losing-your-sense-of-self-ontological-insecurity (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

    Oakes, M. B. (2023) ‘Ontological insecurity in the post-covid-19 fallout: Using existentialism as a method to develop a psychosocial understanding to a mental health crisis’, Health Psychology and Behavioral Medicine, 11(1), pp. 1–15. Available at: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC10425504/ (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

    Sass, L. A. and Parnas, J. (2003) ‘Schizophrenia, consciousness, and the self’, Schizophrenia Bulletin, 29(3), pp. 427–444. Available at: https://academic.oup.com/schizophrBull/article/29/3/427/1879716 (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

    Urban Studies Institute (2024) ‘Ontological insecurity in the modern world: Understanding its origins’, Urban Studies Institute, 21 July. Available at: https://urbanstudies.institute/urban-construct-development-dynamics/ontological-insecurity-modern-world-origins (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

    Young, F. (2016) A history of exorcism in Catholic Christianity. Palgrave Macmillan. Available at: https://link.springer.com/book/9783319291116 (Accessed: 10 March 2026).

  • I Stand Against The Modern Romanticisation of Pederasty, and Other Sexual Vicissitudes

    I Stand Against The Modern Romanticisation of Pederasty, and Other Sexual Vicissitudes

    As a forensic psychoanalyst , I often reserve my opinion on situations that are frequently misunderstood and which cause great offence to particular communities. However, personally, I cannot, I don’t want to, and I will not tolerate any form of romanticisation of those who harm children sexually – the pederasts. Nowadays, there is plenty of that. There are pederast prophets in some religions, pederast presidents in some countries, and pederast people who migrate.

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    I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Too many thoughts rush through my mind. Too many memories of injustices which might never end. A repertoire of traumas that I can only wish I could shake off. But I cannot; the scar that sexual abuse left in my life cannot be erased. It cannot be healed. It cannot be forgotten. It haunts me every day…

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