Day Dreaming and Hypochondira: When Day Dreaming Goes Wrong and Hypochondria Becomes an Autistic Retreat

 

Alina Schellekes
APAS conference - September, 3rd, 2021

Abstract The lecture attempts to focus on the relation between day  dreaming and hypochondria, both theoretically and clinically. The  hypochondriac involvement with the body may become so extensive that at  its extremity it can induce autistic-like withdrawals into a world of  hypertrophied attention to one’s sensations, where day dreaming disease  and deterioration, and the ensuing flooding anxiety become densely  intermingled, creating a very painful and detached existence. It is claimed  that an early tendency to be absorbed into excessive day dreaming might  enhance hypochondriac anxieties. The developmental roots of such a state  are examined and exposed through clinical material and theoretical  discussion. 

“Since there was nothing at all I was certain of, since I needed to be provided  at every instant with a new confirmation of my existence, nothing was in my  very own, undoubted, sole possession…naturally I became unsure even [of]  the thing nearest to me, my own body...I scarcely dared to move, certainly  not to exercise, I remained weakly, I was amazed by everything I could still  command as by miracle, for instance, my good digestion; that sufficed to  lose it, and now the way was open to every sort of hypochondria”

This short quote from Kafka’s letter to his father is most evocative of the  experience of loss of contact with one’s body and of the ensuing need to  achieve control over one’s physical existence, through incessant awareness  to body’s manifestations and to any real or imagined physical dysfunction. 

Kafka’s long-standing mental investment in keeping the body safe culminated in a very special achievement: some claimed (Druker, 2002) that Kafka received the gold medal of the American Safety Society in 1912, because of his outstanding contributions to workplace safety, and in  particular the invention of the modern safety helmet, commonly called a hard hat. Slide Because of his innovation, substantially fewer steel workers were killed in industrial accidents. Ironically enough, his invention protected many  people’s heads, that body organ which Kafka himself could still use even  when his body “remained rather short and weak” (Kafka, 1910). 

In a letter to Ferenczi written in 1912, Freud mentioned that he had “always  felt the obscurity in the question of hypochondria to be a disgraceful gap in  our work”(Jones, 1955,p.453). One hundred years later we are not in a much  better position, since it seems that the ambiguity and uncertainty inherent in the hypochondriac mode of being contaminate the study surrounding it (Lang, 2007). I think that this state is due to much confusion that exists regarding a clear cut classification of hypochondria, which stems from the  fact that it is both a feature in many psychiatric conditions and an entity in  itself. Due to this confusion many of the psychoanalytic writings on this topic  (Meltzer, 1964; Rosenfeld, 1984; Bronstein, 2011) have attempted, with  partial results, to make clearer distinctions between hypochondria, somatic  delusion, psychosomatic states and hysteria. For my present focus I would  limit myself only to a few remarks regarding this theoretical debate.  

The main clinical distinction between hypochondria and psychosomatic  states is that in the former a flooding and intense anxiety regarding the body  is frequently present, while in the latter, such anxiety is usually absent.  Moreover, the psychosomatic’s mode of being has been extensively  described as suppressing affect to such extent that his affective life has been  described as being alexithymic (Syfneos, 1973) or “concrete/operational”  (Marty&de M’Uzan, 1963), terms used by the American and French school,  respectively, to describe the poverty of affect and fantasy. Since the  hypochondriac’s flooding, but unsymbolized anxiety, is so prevalent,  hypochondria has been historically (Freud, 1892) classified as one of the  types of actual neurosis, a term used by Freud to include intense physical  and emotional states, apparently lacking psychic conflict, such as  neurasthenia, anxiety neurosis and hypochondria. All these states or  occurrences are characterized by a high level of excitation that has not been  processed, represented and transformed into digestible mentation  (Mitrani,1995), as opposed to hysteria, which is considered to be the  prototype of the neurotic symptom, that embodies dense symbolism of an  underlying psychic conflict, in spite of its physical appearance. Put in simple  and phenomenological words, the hypochondriac is flooded by body related  anxiety, while the hysteric presents a physical symptom, rich with symbolic  connotations, but accompanied by relative emotional indifference. 

Though this debate is fascinating, it is much beyond the scope of this paper,  since my present interest is to focus on hypochondriac anxiety per se and its  relation to excessive day dreaming. {When I speak of anxiety in this context I  try to limit myself to conditions in which hypochondria neither achieves the  status of a delusion, nor is it part of an organic disease, whether  psychosomatic or not, but is nevertheless extremely disabling one’s ability to  live physically and emotionally.} Even in otherwise relatively well-functioning  personalities, the hypochondriac involvement with the body may become so  extensive that at its extremity it can induce autistic-like withdrawals into a  world of hypertrophied attention to one’s sensations, where day dreaming  disease and deterioration, and the ensuing flooding anxiety become densely  intermingled, creating a very painful and detached existence.  

When working with hypochondriac patients one of the striking clinical  features is the extensive mental elaboration and detailed imagination about any possible harm to or disease in one’s body, or by proxy, in one’s close  relatives. One excessively indulges into self observation and overvalues his  perception of the body, both of which are accompanied by the conviction of  being ill and by disintegrating anxiety (Stolorow,1979), that is not part of a  major somatic condition (Nissen, 2000). The hypochondriac imagines how  every little sign of physical distress and every minor symptom will lead to  catastrophic and lethal consequences. Many times, as I have seen with  several patients, the imagined scenario includes almost a trance-like state of  mind, in which the hypochondriac gets carried away into an elaborate fantasy of how he (or a very close person) will be diagnosed as gravely sick,  how his organs will deteriorate, how days and nights will be spent in pain and  anguish, while undergoing medical treatments and prolonged  hospitalizations, how lonely and frightful such states will be experienced.  These day-dreamed narratives, when employed excessively, acquire autistic  features, as the hypochondriac sinks into a world governed by sensations,  getting more and more detached from his surroundings and wailing/lamenting his miserable imagined existence that will befall upon him. 

Though flooding anxiety is often present, in my experience this type of  daydreaming disease-related scenarios acquires many times an oneiric  quality in which a visible contradiction exists between the frightening content  of the hypochondriac fantasy and the affect and tone of voice that  accompany the verbalization of this fantasy. In these instances, while  imagining the expected somatic catastrophe, the melody of speech and the  affect expressed are not always anxiety-laden, but sometimes convey a  sense of being carried away into a land of dreaming, full of masochistic  painful stimulation. It is important to note that the essence of the hereby  described day dream fantasy is not always accompanied by death anxiety proper, (though apparently one would suspect that, since most imagined  diseases are terminal), but rather by a rich imagery of a state of being ill, of  suffering, of the body being invaded by malady, pain and medical intrusive  practices2. The masochistic component is evident in this imagery3, as the  hypochondriac is both terrorized by his conviction of being ill and at the same  time fascinated by and immersed into his bodily sensations; he is both  anxious about all medical interventions and, at the same time, solicits  medical care and procedures for any vague or specific complaint (Barsky & Klerman, 1983). Thus, I propose that the hypochondriac ideation is a mixture  of layers, some in which masochistic symbol-laden fantasies prevail and  some in which the very sinking into and imagining physical sensations  becomes a sort of ‘autistic shape’ that lacks symbolic activity thus creating  an autistic-sensations-related enclave. 

This state of excessive detachment from reality, that is part of the  hypochondriac ideation, has ancient roots in the history of the individual.  Before proceeding to additional theoretical aspects, I would like to relate  briefly to a clinical case that portrays some of the main points of my present  discussion. 

Iris

My relation with Iris has been a very long one with multiple and complex  facets. For the purpose of this lecture I will only focus on a few relevant  issues that are pertinent to the topic of hypochondria and day dreaming,  leaving aside many nuances that are part of Iris’s rich personality and of our  deep emotional relation over many meaningful years, that could potentially  enrich our understanding of her, but all this is beyond my present scope}.  Iris, a professionally successful writer in her thirties, married with 3 children,  addressed me when her eldest son was a few months old, due to terrible  hypochondriac anxieties related to her small baby. She was devastated  whenever the baby had any sign of physical distress and moreover so when  he had any clear physical symptoms. Both of these were instantly  experienced by Iris as grave symptoms heralding an incipient terminal  disease or other physical catastrophes. In subsequent years two more  babies were born and with all three children, she experienced the same  degree of hypochondriac crises, that would make her sink for days and  nights into abyssal anxiety, while constructing elaborate day dreams about  the imagined physical sensations and catastrophe that would befall upon  herself and her children. These day dreams included rich details of future  scenarios in which her children would become gravely ill, would suffer  immensely, physically and emotionally, would undergo painful medical  procedures, would slowly deteriorate until the inevitable end. The  imagination was less concerned with the danger of losing the child or with  death per se, but much more with all the devitalizing and bodily sensations  and states that would precede death. Alternately, Iris reacted to her own  physical real or imagined symptoms, with similar anxiety, whose main  content was rich imagining of sensations and symptoms and of how her  children would become orphans, how much they will suffer; she would  calculate various ages at which being an orphan might be more bearable  and less devastating, hoping that she would have the chance to live till that  age, so that her children would not prematurely experience such a terrible loss.  

In parallel to the extensive preoccupation with the seemingly diseased body,  it soon struck me that this hypochondriac layer masked a very special  relation to her body, from which she seemed completely disconnected. Her  physical appearance gave the impression that she had no interest in the way  she looked. She was not physically neglected, but it seemed that her body  was in a sort of suspended state, not really being experienced, except through possible disease. She showed little interest or pleasure in sex,  hardly paid attention to clothes, to her haircut and generally to having any  pleasure from her body. Sometimes I had the feeling that she lived in a sort  of emotional blindness to her body that I suggest to name ‘a negative  hypochondria’ (paraphrasing Green’s thinking on ‘negative hallucination’), so  as to emphasize the lack of emotional investment into the details of the  living and healthy body, and the lack of experiencing her body as alive and  full of vitality. This dual relation to her body became more and more striking, as it seemed to mirror a very deep and old schism in her emotional  existence, that gradually unfolded in analysis. On one hand, she functioned  relatively well in everything that her life required, though most of the time  being tired and lacking energy, on the other hand she lived in a sort of day dreaming existence, slightly disconnected from the reality of her life, only  superficially being involved with her significant others. She kept contact with  few social relations, as her emotional energy was deeply caught either in this  fantasying existence or in dealing with her extensive hypochondriac anxieties. 

During our sessions, a very special presence of Iris began to preoccupy me.  She was very devoted to the analytic process, always came to the sessions,  talked, brought quite rich material, but there was many times some lack of  focus, as if she was not totally present, as if some disconnection from reality  kept her in a semi dreamy state. Sometimes she would slightly lose  connection with time issues, sometimes she wouldn’t notice any changes in  my office, that were noticed and reacted to by most of my patients,  sometimes she gave the feeling that my presence was a very important  background, but that she was not really in contact with me, on a deeper  level. Moreover, for years she continued to be ambivalent towards me, as if  never really knowing whether she was in the right place, many times  fantasizing that this or other analyst will certainly be a better place to be. She  would openly and frequently describe how excited she felt when she  imagined herself with another analyst, whom she came to know or heard  about, but she never really considered leaving her analysis.  

The day dreaming of better places, better families, better analysts alternated  in the sessions with the description of her hypochondriac anxieties which  attacked her frequently. Gradually I became aware that in spite of the  terrifying content of her anxieties, many times there was a day-dreaming  quality in the way she described them, as if she was taken away into a world  of fantasy, which she would not stop. Her tone of voice also became many  times like a dreamy melody, speaking, slightly singing the imagined  catastrophes, as if she also found some known, but unthought gratification in  the hypochondriac scenarios. At times, as if caught by some contagious  disease, I found myself struggling with a sort of day-dreaming state, in which  I was slightly losing contact with Iris, bordering the sensation one has in  hypnogogic states. The main striking feature of these states of mine was that  I became both aware of and observed my day dreaming, while  simultaneously I could hardly stop its sharp intensity. It is important in this  context to emphasize that such a state has little to do with free association,  as the feeling is of being taken away and losing contact with both external  and internal reality.  

I have detailed these nonverbal transferencial intricacies as they became a  tunnel through which we could gradually approach experientially some of the  historic roots of Iris’s emotional development. From a very early age Iris  experienced her parents as living in their own slightly disconnected world, being simultaneously loving towards her and narcissistically and sexually  immersed with each other. It seems that her parents had been unaware of the impact and implications that their stormy involvement with each other, and considerable disconnection from real matters, had for Iris’s fragile  existence and developmental needs. Iris learned to disconnect herself from  her internal reality and from what was experienced as a very invasive and  flooding presence of her parents, which was much above her abilities to  digest and understand4. Though such presence had evident exciting qualities  it simultaneously became a haunting presence. It seems that Iris developed  all sorts of techniques of shutting out her sensory channels so as to become  disconnected both from her parents' flooding presence and from her own  internal scene. During these times she oscillated between excitation, anxiety  and confusion, all eventually culminating in her need to silence her own  senses and to become immersed in a disconnected-from-her-body state.  She gradually developed her fantasying abilities which offered her a day dreaming envelope that protected her from unbearable realities. Whilst  growing up, she became exposed to many separations and peregrinations,  that created much instability in her life and which, again, were beyond her  abilities to contain. Due to her precocious ego development, whose  damaging effects have been thoroughly described by many (Klein,1930;  Winnicott, 1962; Mitrani, 2007) and due to her high intelligence and wealth of  abilities, she could adapt well enough, but she developed more and more  strategies of disconnection: she would thoroughly engage in day dreaming,  fantasying better parents and homes, she would deny frustrating or traumatic  experiences, creating idealizing scenarios or would eventually retreat into  her own body, sinking into a world of hypersensitive reactivity to sensations,  a sort of autistic shell of auto-sensuality (Tustin, 1990), that ultimately  flooded her with hypochondriac anxiety. Thus, her exaggerated day dreaming and disconnecting abilities, that had been established early in her  life, became both the carrier of long standing anxiety and the means to deny it, through projection into the body. Simultaneously, in my understanding,  through developing the hypochondriac anxieties and through day-dreaming  catastrophic scenarios, she maintained a very faithful relation with her early  objects: she was both invaded by unbearable anxiety (as she had been since  a very early age in the presence of her parents), in the form of experiencing  her body as under the attack of a terminal disease, and, at the same time,  she maintained her disconnected emotional existence through day dreaming,  both of a catastrophic nature, such as in hypochondriac scenarios, and of an  idealized fantasized future, such as when day dreaming of better husbands  or better analysts. In addition, I would say that the hypochondriac anxiety  also connected her with her formerly denied/suspended body, even if in such  a distorted way. Moreover, her hypersensitivity to any physical sign became,  in my view, a mimicry of a displaced – unto – the – body longing for attentive  care (Granek, 1989), so that the longed-for care by another was substituted  by her own concern towards her body. 

As it is evident in Iris’s case, the early experiences of many hypochondriac  patients are, in my view, frequently colored by an object presence which was  experienced as either too exciting or too invasive, or a mixture of both,  whether in terms of its inconsistency or in terms of flooding the infant with  stimuli which were beyond his containing and processing abilities. I will relate  shortly to the quality of the invasive object as emphasized by Paul Williams  (Williams, 2004). (The invasive object is a term that was introduced by  Williams to describe conditions in which the infantile self becomes  amalgamated with sequelae of uncontained projections and with the  projective activity of the object, that leave the infant in a state of emotional  turbulence and confusion, which in turn threat his very sense of self. The  individual who has incorporated an invasive object is likely to feel unstable,  depleted of personal meaning and occupied or haunted by unidentifiable  bodily perceptions. The infant's body is implicated in the trauma in that it  carries the status of a primary object to which the infant relates and which  can become installed as an internal object, thus bringing one to ‘invite’ invasion as a sort of identification with invasiveness. Williams also proposedto distinguish between intrusive and invasive objects. Intrusive objects tend  to be motivated by a need to occupy or control the subject for reasons that  can include parasitism and sadism. Invasive objects, on the other hand, seek  primarily to expel unbearable, infantile conflicts using, for the most part,  excessive projective mechanisms. Expulsion is compulsive and violent, but it  does not appear to strive to control or become a feature of the subject in the  same way, as its aim is to mould a repository for evacuation prior to a retreat  to a position of pathological narcissism [Williams, 2004]). 

The parent’s ability to help the small child in processing and representing the  many sensations he experiences, of whose importance Tustin talked so  extensively (Tustin, 1981,1990), is thus hindered when an invasive object is  internalized, leaving the child in what she called ‘an agony of  consciousness’. Even when the object’s presence seems quite devoted, its  possible invasive quality is confusing and overwhelming as it usually lacks  any boundaries, so that for a child’s mind such an object presence is  experienced as frightening and threatening his separate sense of self  (Arlow&Brenner, 1969; Nissen, 2000; Williams, 2004; Skogstad, 2013). In  such a state of invasion, the normal process of projecting one’s unbearable  sensations into the object is almost impossible, since the parent’s ability to  employ his alpha function is rather deficient and the omega function (the  reversal of the alpha function: the parental object projecting his emotional  needs into the child), which Gianna Williams (1997) speaks about, becomes  the dominant one. When one is flooded by internal unbearable and  indigestible states of mind and by external confusing and flooding  experiences, one develops various emotional tactics, as we all know, but the  one I wish to emphasize here, as I tried to illustrate through Iris’s case, is the  development of a detached, almost dissociative stance, made possible by  the construction of a private imaginary world, disconnected from reality and, apparently, from emotional proximity to the invasive object, what Meltzer  called a “pseudo-contact barrier of the day dream” (Meltzer, 2009, p.123).  The infant thus learns to disconnect through building of imaginary worlds, wherein he finds comfort and illusionary control. In this context, it is not  surprising that many times this excessive day-dreaming quality of which I am  talking about generates, in later phases of development, fantastic scenarios  of idyllic places, wonderful persons and relationships, all imagined as  blissful, conflict free zones of emotional serenity. These scenarios seem to  mask a fantasized regressive oneness with the primary object, a “fantasized  reversal of a calamity that has occurred and a restitution of an inner  homeostasis that was disturbed years ago where a blissful unity with the all  good mother of symbiosis” (Akhtar, 1996) and infantile omnipotence would  be possible. This fantasized reunion can become an excessive hope, that  more often than not, creates heavy demands on real objects to fulfill this  reunion. Such a state promotes the quality of keeping reality at a distance,  living in the future, while the present becomes a continuous source of  masochistic suffering.  

One can be mistaken and think of these day dreams as a version of the  family romance fantasy, but, in my view, they are of a much more primitive  and pervasive nature, as they often become slightly regressive cocoons that  enable one to retreat into imagined worlds of better times and better  relations. The blissful imagined oneness with an ideal object, that is present  in these fantasies, is quite similar to the quality of the timelessness  experience (Hagglund, 2001; Levine, 2009; Schellekes, 2010, 2017), in  which interpersonal differentiations are blurred, as much as are any  distinctions between time dimensions: past, present and future. When past  experiences are traumatic and thoughts about future raise the potential of re traumatization by expected frustrations and losses, the timelessness  experience enables one to temporarily live in a state wherein time freezes in  a sort of illusionary everlasting present, thus negating the flow of time and  the inevitability of losses and death. It is not surprising that many of the  patients who tend to negate time dimensions and live in such timeless  modalities, achieve this through excessive day dreaming, which becomes an  efficient primitive maneuver of denying painful reality. I would suggest to call such excessive day dreaming, a ‘day-dreaming envelope’, functioning, in  many ways, in a similar way to the envelopes described by Anzieu (Anzieu, 1985) and Houzel (Houzel, 1990), that is functioning as compensatory  envelopes, when basic containing functions are lacking.  

{In normal development, though fantasizing is a less mature mode of  experiencing, expressing and modulating inner experience than abstract and  symbolic thinking, it is an important and creative means on various levels. To  name just a few of these levels: it may help processing inner and outer  experiences (Sugarman, 2008); it adds one in tolerating object’s absence,  thus constituting a midpoint in the process of internalization; it enables one to  express ambitions and to anticipate important personal events (Lussheimer,  1954).} 

However, when fantasizing becomes excessive, it becomes what Winnicott  named ‘fantasying’, a dissociated addictive mental activity, keeping one in a  state of distractibility and absentmindedness, absorbing much of one’s  emotional energy, but not necessarily enriching one’s ability to think, to  dream and to be actively involved in life or, to put it in Winnicott’s humoristic  words: “nothing is likely to happen because of the fact that in the dissociated  state so much is happening…and immediately, except that it does not  happen at all” ((Winniccott, 1971, p.26). The omnipotent satisfaction inherent  in the day dream thus becomes an additional obstacle to active involvement  in life, as most real experiences face one with one’s own and with other’s  limitations.  

The above description portrays a situation in which excessive satisfying day  dreaming activity might crystallize an effective defense against invasiveness.  However, things are more complicated, as one never totally relinquishes his  relation to the object. The repetitive need to stay attached to the object is  ever present, even if in disguised form. Thus, when the infant/child’s mind is  flooded by unbearable excitation or by erratic painful emotional experiences, many times an ‘attachment to pain’ (Valenstein, 1973; Aisenstein&Gibeault,  1991) develops. Put it differently, rather than separating from the painful  quality of the object’s presence and rather than mourning this separation, in  the hypochondriac’s development one encounters an adhesive attachment to  the painful physical and emotional qualities, that had characterized the  object’s presence. In other words, in my opinion, the imagined pain and  suffering that the hypochondriac so extensively fears become, through his  elaborate attention to physical sensations and imagined scenarios of  disease, a sort of psychic retreat (Steiner, 1993) into the body, wherein the  imagined pain keeps alive the connection with the frustrating invasive object,  who often becomes installed into the fantasy of the sick organ.  

Thus, in my understanding, though apparently having been tormented by the  object’s confusing and invasive presence, one becomes the unconscious  director of the hypochondriac drama in which the object, that has never  really been mourned and integrated, is ever kept alive through self-torment, embodied in the rich imagery of suffering and disease (see also Gutwinski,  1997). This imagery echoes the invasive aspects of the original emotional  reality, that reality which had been experienced, but never became mentally  assimilated. However, in the hypochondriac’s subjective experience he is the  passive victim of the feared diseases which act in this scenario as a  threatening concrete and somatic reality. In other words, in my view, the  hypochondriac subject vicariously aims at distancing himself from  unbearable emotional states, of both internal and external origin, by  frequently developing, early in his development, excessive, disconnecting  day dreaming propensities, which sooner or later also become the venue for  day dreaming somatic catastrophes. Thus, the body and the elaborate  preoccupation with his somatic states could have potentially become a  screen against the possible invasion of the object (Aisenstein&Gibeault, 1991)5. However, the hypochondriac’s incessant absorption in his body  keeps him forever invaded by anxiety, so that he never relinquishes close  contact with his invasive-anxiety-provoking-internal objects, with what was  meant to be expelled from the emotional sphere. Moreover, the state of  being ill may be viewed as a somatic embodiment of an unconscious search  for a particular role responsiveness (Sandler, 1976), on the part of the  significant other/therapist. Put differently, the hypochondriac’s awareness of  every slight change in the functioning of the organs mirrors how he wishes  the other would tune into him (Rosenman & Handelsman, 1978; Granek,  1989). 

Nevertheless, in my view, things are even more complicated since the early  object relations of the hypochondriac were never solely frustrating and  painful, but many times an admixture of excitement and suffering, so that  great confusion became the axis of his experiences. Very relevant here is  Rosenfeld’s understanding of the genesis of hypochondria, as resulting from  confusion related to deficiency in splitting mechanisms (Rosenfeld, H., 1958,  1964). {In Rosenfeld’s understanding, it is the hypochondriac’s mixture of  libidinal and aggressive impulses that intensifies confusional anxieties  (confusion between self and object, love and aggression, between pleasure  and pain), which in turn generate excessive splitting mechanisms so as to  get rid of the confusional anxieties. These are first projected into the external  world to be later on re-introjected, but this re-introjection is experienced as a  violent and invasive intrusion that threatens to spread everywhere (Nissen, 2000). The absorption of these projections into the body attempts to diminish  the emotional threat by attempting to keep emotional threats out of the  mental sphere, by displacing them into the body, thus generating the  hypochondriac anxiety.
When such confusion prevails, suffering becomes a source of pleasure while  erotic life becomes a source of suffering. Many times the hypochondriac  becomes addicted to fantasized suffering, while having difficulties in enjoying  his real erotic life. The frustrations experienced in his erotic life become an  additional venue of suffering and a potential source for additional  detachment and retreat into day dreaming, this time, into rich scenarios of  sexual arousal and romantic experiences with imaginary partners, who are  fantasized as promising to rescue the hypochondriac from his real erotic life,  which more often than not, is kept under control and is maintained as a  source of suffering. In other words, one can see how the hypochondriac’s  confused link to the object as both exciting, frustrating and pain inducing is  maintained in such a complex and imprisoning matrix of real and imagined  relations.  

Some clinical implications 

The intricate relation between hypochondriac anxiety and excessive day  dreaming has in my view important implications for our clinical work. Since  this relation is part and parcel of the internal object relations matrix that I  have attempted to describe, it goes without saying that the main focus in  working with the hypochondriac would necessarily relate to this matrix.  However, I would like to make a few more emphases that seem important to  me for the present discussion. 

First, since the hypochondriac keeps such close contact with his body at the  expense of his ability to be involved with objects on a deeper and more  intimate level, the therapy/analysis should gradually create a protected  space, wherein one can risk relating without feeling invaded and without  needing to disconnect and retreat into hypersensitive listening to the body. If  enough of the analytic work goes well enough, both analyst and patient can  save each other from the danger of plunging into excessive disconnection that often happens through the day-dreaming envelope and other  dissociative modes. This dreaminess and preoccupation with the imagined  diseased body keeps one away from what is missing on the interpersonal  level. In my analytic work with Iris, it took a long time until Iris could risk  engaging on a deeper level with me, without needing to distance herself from  intimate and intense contact. In parallel, it required substantial work on my  part to reclaim myself back, sometimes with Iris’s help, both conscious and  veiled, from what seemed to be a partial sinking into contagious day  dreaming.  

Second, in parallel to the working through of a richer and deeper  involvement with the analyst, great effort is needed so that other relations,  present and past, can enfold in a more meaningful and creative way. Many  times hypochondriac patients have neither emotionally digested the impact  that significant others have had on them, nor are they deeply aware of the  impact they themselves have on others. Relations are experienced in highly  static ways, in which the object has no ability to generate new meanings and  new realities, and consequently, the subject’s ability to be involved in  dynamic and creative relations has been hindered as well6. Since the  detached, uninvolved relations are largely connected with an underlying  need for a perfect and blissed union with the object, wherein one can feel  safe and omnipotent, the core of the analytic work becomes the need to both  enable regression to primordial states of mind, that have not been  experienced enough, in the presence of an involved but neither invasive nor  detached object, and, nonetheless, to gradually enable the patient to risk  being involved in less than ideal emotional relations, while mourning the  ideal object. Though one can say that this is one of the goals in almost any  analysis, I wish to put a special emphasis on these dialectics in the present  context, because, as said, the hypochondriac’s reliance on day dreaming idealized future scenarios is so strong, that it disconnects him from the reality  of his life, which is not necessarily as bad as it is feared. 

Third, the hypochondriac anxiety masks a deep seated denial of death and,  by extension, of any limitation. The body is expected to be in a perfect state  forever, with no weakness or ailment, as if one can experience absolute  somatic security, and by proxy, absolute emotional stability. These features,  not only become a main part of the excessive day- dreaming activity, but  also of the need to live in a timeless modality, wherein limits and terminality  are denied. This denial becomes a main issue in analysis, where time and  limitations are an intrinsic part of the analytic texture. In other words,  repeated attention should be paid to the various tactics employed by the  hypochondriac, so as to deny the flow of time and of aging, whether in life or  in analysis. Moreover, since the hypochondriac anxiety is also a way of  installing an imagined control over the body, there is great need to  consolidate the hypochondriac’s ability to tolerate uncertainty and specifically  to bear a body that does not stand up to his idealized expectations7, all this  without experiencing a complete lack of control, agony and helplessness.  

Fourth, if analytic work can progress well enough, it is my understanding  that the hypochondriac will gradually substitute his hypersensitive attention  to the body with more mature, verbal means, so that his abilities to process  emotional experiences will not be channeled into the body, but will become  part of his matrix of internal and external relations. This, of course,  necessitates a great deal of thinking and verbalizing on the part of the  analyst, especially so since the hypochondriac’s tendency is to blur and  disconnect from his emotional life, via hypochondriac anxiety or the day dreaming envelope.  

Fifth, as said before, the hypochondriac anxiety and intensified attention to  various parts of the body, are many times a distorted way to be in contact with a body that is not experienced as alive. Thus, the feared pain or  disease, in this or other organ, becomes a mapping-the-body-device,  through imagined pain. To the extent that the hypochondriac can become more connected to his feelings and to his live body, including, needless to  say, his sexuality, there is great chance that the contact with the body can be  experienced as a source of pleasure, rather than as an imagined disease.  Consequently, the more the hypochondriac can be in touch with and contain  the vitality of his body, the less prominent will be the need to use  hypochondriac anxiety as the main venue for contact with an otherwise  suspended body8, a state which I have called negative hypochondria. In the  analysis with Iris, an extensive work had to be done so that she could get  more and more in touch with her body, with her sexuality, and gradually she  became more and more alive and full of vitality. Her ability to experience  desire and to enjoy sexual relations increased immensely, even if many  times her desires were still part of fantasies about idealized and  unachievable partners. The more Iris became connected on a deeper level to  me and to her body, the less intense and less frequent were her  hypochondriac anxieties. 

{Sixth, though hypochondria was originally considered a “toxic damming up  of libido linked to a narcissistic regression” (Broden&Myers, 1981; Freud,  1914), one can think of unconscious conflictual issues underlying the  hypochondriac symptom, such as unconscious beating and torture fantasies,  related to denied hostility towards important objects (Broden&Myers, 1981),  or to early traumatic auditory primal scene experiences (Niederland, 1958);  unconscious fantasies of an internal persecutor playing the function of a  concretely repressed superego (Arlow&Brenner, 1969); displacement of castration anxiety into fears of becoming ill or altered (Fenichel, 1945). It is  not my intention to elaborate now on these possible underlying unconscious  dynamics, but it is important to note their relevance, since they all raise the  idea of the denial of and inability to deal with aggression that is so often part  of the deflection that the hypochondriac anxiety enables. Consequently, the  need to enable the hypochondriac to be exposed to his aggressive parts  without fearing either being destroyed or destroying, is of great relevance.  Needless to say, this might have a great impact on lessening the masochistic  attachment to pain, that I discussed earlier on}. 

Seventh, a great deal of tolerance and self containment, or containment by a  significant other, are needed when working with the hypochondriac patient, since his catastrophic anxieties can be of such magnitude as to incur the  analyst’s need to defend himself from what might sometimes be experienced  as a potential physical and emotional deluge. It is my belief that writing this  lecture is a vicarious way of maintaining an analytic stance when facing such  a deluge, as I have frequently experienced with some of my hypochondriac  patients.  

Thinking back of Kafka, whose hypochondria was as strong as his creativity,  and whose writings have been only partially saved by his close friend, Max  Brod, against Kafka’s urge to have them destroyed after his death, I would  like to conclude with the lines that Freud quotes in his paper On Narcissism  (Freud, 1914), from the last stanza of Heine's Seven Songs of Creation in  which Heine wonders about the act of creation: “Illness was no doubt the  final cause of the whole urge to create. By creating, I could recover; by  creating, I became healthy”. Unfortunately, neither Kafka nor Moliere, who  died on scene while taking part in his play, Le Malade Imaginaire (The  Imaginary Invalid), were saved, in the concrete sense, by the act of creation.  Maybe they could have been saved from a premature death, had they  experienced Freud’s saying that “a strong egoism is a protection against  falling ill, but in the last resort we must begin to love in order to not fall ill, and we are bound to fall ill if, in consequence of frustration, we are unable to  love”. But, that is doubtful too since if love or meaningful relations are not  experienced “as their own reward, but as a necessary evil, to be swallowed  despite its unpleasant taste, like a spoonful of medicinal tonic” (Lang,  2007,p.8), then I doubt to what extent love can have healing propensities.  One hundred years after Freud’s ‘On Narcissism’, I think we are still left with  a lot to think about when we live the dramas of our patients who fight their  dread of becoming ill and, even more, their dread of being fully alive.


References 

Aisenstein, M. and Gibeault, A. (1991). The Work of Hypochondria—A  Contribution to the Study of the Specificity of Hypochondria, in Particular in  Relation to Hysterical Conversion and Organic Disease. Int. J. Psycho-Anal.,  72:669-680. 

Akhtar, S. (1996). “Someday . . ” And “If Only . . ” Fantasies: Pathological  Optimism And Inordinate Nostalgia As Related Forms Of Idealization. J.  Amer. Psychoanal. Assn., 44:723-753. 

ANZIEU, D. (1985). The Skin Ego. New Haven/London: Yale Univ. Press,  1989. 

Arlow, J.A. and Brenner, C. (1969). The Psychopathology of the Psychoses:  A Proposed Revision. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 50:5-14. 

Barsky, A.J. & Klerman, G.L. (1983). Overview: Hypochondriasis, Bodily  Complaints and Somatic Styles. Am. J. Psychiatry, 140: 273-283.  Broden, A.R. and Myers, W.A. (1981). Hypochondriacal Symptoms as  Derivatives of Unconscious Fantasies of Being Beaten or Tortured. J. Amer.  Psychoanal. Assn., 29:535-557. 

Bronstein, C. (2011). On Psychosomatics: The Search of Meaning. Int. J.  Psycho-Anal., 92:173-195. 

DRUCKER, P.F. (2002). Managing in the New Society. New York: Truman  Talley Books. 

FENICHEL, O. (1945). The Psychoanalytic Theory of Neurosis. New York:  Norton.  

FERRARI, A.B. (2004). From the Eclipse of the Body to the Dawn of  Thought. London: Free Association Books. 

FREUD, S. (1892). Draft B from Extracts From the Fliess Papers. The  Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud,  Volume I ( 1886-1899): Pre-Psycho-Analytic Publications and Unpublished  Drafts, 179-184. 

FREUD, S. (1914). On Narcissism. The Standard Edition of the Complete  Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud, Volume 14 (1914-1916): On the  History of the Psycho-Analytic Movement, Papers on Metapsychology and  Other Works, 67-102. 

Granek, M. (1989). Hypochondriasis, Acting out and Counteracting out.  British J. Medical Psychology. 62: 257-264.  

Gutwinski, J. (1997). Hypochondria Versus The Relation To The Object. Int.  J. Psycho-Anal., 78:53-68. 

Hägglund, T. (2001). Timelessness as a positive and negative  experience. Scand. Psychoanal. Rev., 24:83-92. 

Houzel, D. (1990). The Concept of psychic envelope. In Anzieu, D.(ed).  (1990). Psychic Envelopes. Karnac Books, London.  

JONES, E. (1955). Sigmund Freud Life and Work, Volume Two: Years of  Maturity 1901-1919. , 1-507. London: The Hogarth Press. 

KAFKA, F. (1910). Diaries of Franz Kafka: 1910 – 1913. Trans. Joseph  Kresh. New York: Schocken Books, 1949. 

KAFKA, F. (1966). Letter to His Father. New York: Shocken Books. Klein M (1930). The importance of symbol-formation in the development of  the ego. Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 11:24-39. 

LANG, M. (2007). The Hypochondriac: Bodies in Protest from Herman  Melville to Toni Morrison. Ph.D. Dissertation in Comparative Literature, Stony  Brook University. 

Levine, H.B. (2009). Time and Timelessness: Inscription and  Representation. J. Amer. Psychoanal. Assn., 57:333-355. 

Lombardi, R. (2002). Primitive Mental States and the Body. Int. J. Psycho Anal., 83:363-381. 

Lombardi, R. (2010). The Body Emerging from the “Neverland” of  Nothingness. Psychoanal. Q., 79:879-909. 

Lussheimer, P. (1954). On Daydreams. Am. J. Psychoanal., 14:83-92. Marty, P. & De M'Uzan M (1963). La pensée opératoire [Mechanical  functioning]. Rev. Franç Psychanal 27: 345-56. 

Meltzer, D. (1964). The Differentiation of Somatic Delusions from  Hypochondria. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 45:246-250. 

Meltzer, D. (2009). Dream-Life: A Re-Examination of the Psychoanalytic  Theory and Technique. London: Karnac Books. 

Mitrani, J.L. (1995). Toward An Understanding Of Unmentalized  Experience. Psychoanal. Q., 64:68-112. 

 Mitrani, J. (2007). Some Technical Implications of Klein's Concept of  ‘Premature Ego Development’. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 88:825-842. Niederland, W.G. (1958). Early Auditory Experiences, Beating Fantasies  and Primal Scene. Psychoanal. St.Child, 13:471-504.  

Nissen, B. (2000). Hypochondria. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 81:651-666. Rosenfeld, D. (1984). Hypochondrias, Somatic Delusion and Body Scheme  in Psychoanalytic Practice. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 65:377-387. 

Rosenfeld, H. (1958). Some Observations on the Psychopathology of  Hypochondriacal States. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 39:121-124. 

Rosenfeld, H. (1964). On the Psychopathology of Narcissism: a Clinical  Approach. Int.J. Psychoanal., 45:332-337.  

Rosenman, S. and Handelsman, I. (1978). Narcissistic Vulnerability,  Hypochondriacal Rumination, and Invidiousness. Am. J. Psychoanal., 38:57- 66. 

Rosenman, S. (1981). Hypochondriasis and Invidiousness. J. Am. Acad.  Psychoanal. Dyn. Psychiatr., 9:51-70. 

Sandler, J. (1976). Countertransference and Role-Responsiveness. Int. R.  Psycho-Anal., 3:43-47. 

Schellekes, A. (2010). When Time Stood Still: Thoughts Regarding the  Dimension of Time in Primitive Mental States. In Ma'arag-The Israel Annual  of Psychoanalysis, ed. Spero, M.H., vol. 1, 281-303, The Hebrew University  Magnes Press, Jerusalem, 2010. Schellekes, A.(2017). When Time Stood Still Thoughts about Time in Primitive Mental States. British J. of Psychoth. 33, 3 (2017)  328–345. 

Skogstad, W. (2013). Impervious and Intrusive: The Impenetrable Object in  Transference and Countertransference. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 94:221-238. Spero, M.H. (1990). Portal Aspects of Memory Overlay in Psychoanalysis— An Object Relations Contribution to Screen Memory  

Phenomena. Psychoanal. St. Child, 45:79-103. Starčević, V. (1989).  Pathological Fear of Death, Panic Attacks, and ypochondriasis. Am. J.  Psychoanal., 49:347-361. 

Steiner, J. (1993). Psychic Retreats: Pathological Organizations in Psychotic,  Neurotic and Borderline Patients. London: The New Library of  Psychoanalysis. 

 Stolorow, R.D. (1979). Defensive and Arrested Developmental Aspects of  Death Anxiety, Hypochondriasis and Depersonalization. Int. J. Psycho Anal., 60:201-213. 

 Sugarman, A. (2008). Fantasizing as Process, Not Fantasy as Content: The  Importance of Mental Organization. Psychoanal. Inq., 28:169-189.  Sifneos PE. (1973). The prevalence of 'alexithymic' characteristics in  psychosomatic patients. Psychotherapy and psychosomatics, 22 (2):255- 262. 

 Symington, N (2014). Personal Communication.  

 Tustin, F. (1981). Autistic States in Children. London: Tavistock/Routledge.  Tustin ,F. (1990). The Protective Shell in Children and Adults. London:  Karnac. 

 Valenstein, A.F. (1973). On Attachment to Painful Feelings and the Negative  Therapeutic Reaction. Psychoanal. St. Child, 28:365-392. 

 Williams, G. (1997). Reflections On Some Dynamics Of Eating Disorders: ‘No  Entry’ Defences And Foreign Bodies. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 78:927-941.  Williams, P. (2004). Incorporation of an invasive object. Int. J. Psycho-Anal.,  85:1333-1348. 

 Winnicott, D.W. (1962). The Theory of the Parent-Infant Relationship— Further Remarks. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 43:238-240. 

 Winnicott, D.W. (1971). Playing and Reality. London: Tavistock Publications. 

Biography

ALINA SCHELLEKES is a senior clinical psychologist and a training and supervising psychoanalyst of The Israel Psychoanalytic Society. She teaches and supervises at The Israel Psychoanalytic Society; at Tel-Aviv University, Sackler Faculty of Medicine, Program of Psychotherapy, where she is head of the Primitive Mental States advanced track of studies, which she initiated in 2007; at Halfaba – Psychoanalytically Oriented Psychotherapy Studies, Tel Aviv. She worked for more than three decades as a senior clinical psychologist at Brill Mental Health Center (Ramat Chen), Tel Aviv and is in private practice. In 2006 she received the Honorary Mention of the Phillys Meadow Award in New York for excellence in psychoanalytical writing. In November 2008 she received in Los Angeles the 12th Frances Tustin International Prize for her paper ‘The Dread of Falling and Dissolving-further thoughts’. In November 2018 she was appointed as the Chair of The Frances Tustin Memorial Trust. Her main interests both in her publications and in her teaching focus on the understanding of primitive mental states, void existence, hypochondria, psychosomatic states, day dreaming, the concept of double, and therapeutic excess. Address for correspondence.