Why do psychoanalysts reduce everything to sex?

In Things are wrong, Mardi Noir, psychologist and psychoanalyst, returns each week to a question or psychological problem.

You are not immune, in fact, to stumble upon a somewhat whimsical psychoanalyst who would come out full of emphasis: “Mmmh … Yes … Your fear of the metro doors closing violently, it’s the fear of your own vagina, you can’t stand the gaping hole it embodies, you assume that anyone could enter it without a ticket. and therefore without permission. The alarm bells ring and it’s the orgasm you never manage to get or the denial of the act you never verbalize. I understand, it is very frustrating. Keep going, it’s exciting. ” To be pronounced with an Argentinian accent for more style.

I do not care but this interpretation is not so stupid. What is violent here is that it gives the impression of coming out of nowhere. Yet often, when digging, it is the patients themselves who make the connections.

Sex. Sexuality. The sexual. What are we talking about precisely? Freud proposes a broad definition of the sexual which he calls libido. We could also call it “vital energy” but it would be less subversive, therefore less fun, it would also lack the sometimes deadly character of this sexuality which sometimes goes well beyond the pleasure principle … and above all, it would elude this which is causing a problem. Because, basically, what drives us is what creates conflict.

Sources of enjoyment

Freud starts from the hypothesis that we don’t have instincts but impulses. Their sources are located in the body and their goal is to be satisfied, even if it is in pain, the absence of an object, the excess of an object, etc. To write my articles, I often need oral stimulation. Since I don’t have a genitalia on hand and it wouldn’t be practical to type on the keyboard at the same time anyway, I fill my mouth with an electronic cigarette, a beer and some M & Ms’s. It could just as easily be sausage, wine and a classic cigarette. Or my thumb. But that never fooled me.

In short, I want to suck, it comforts me. Am I missing the breast? Now, speaking of the breast, how do mothers psychically separate their baby’s feedings from their partner’s feedings? Is it perverse to ask the question? Still, even if I suspect that many mothers will tell me “It’s not going, I never thought about it”, how is it that I am constantly thinking about it? And that your partners too? Eh? There we have a good example of extended sexuality. Strictly speaking, there are no borders but a continuum in which we set limits. Sometimes unconsciously, thank you for repression. To repress is to bury in the unconscious representations that could unbalance the subject.

The sexual is a whole system. It’s not just some penile or vaginal arousal. It is a certain relation to the other, to objects, oral as we have just seen but also anal, yes. Please stay, it’s getting fun. Because if filling up is a source of enjoyment (also enlarged, forget your little annoying orgasm), holding back – as we refrain from having a bowel movement – can be in many ways, or even let go all at once . Watching his savings grow, putting aside his yellow coins year after year, postponing the moment to take them to the bank to see them pour into the machine.

To be stingy with words, with compliments, or on the contrary to listen to oneself speak for hours like a litany sweet to our ears. Because yes, talking is also enjoyable. Whether in form, playing with the sound of words, intonations, or in substance, persuading, arguing, yielding, consenting, convincing, seducing, laughing.

The first prohibitions

What psychoanalysts call sexual is all of these interactions, pleasant and unpleasant, shameful or jubilant, guilty or on the contrary assumed. This sexual thing, so dear to psychoanalysis, is also linked to the first prohibitions. Without going into the details of the founding myth of Oedipus, there is indeed a rather universal prohibition, at least in our societies. You don’t masturbate in public.

I remember a year in elementary school when I touched my sex very frequently. Always a hand between the legs. It was not the masturbation itself, rather an excitement that bothered me and I was probably in the idea of ​​containing it by placing my hand permanently on my vagina. Result, all the adults told me that it was not done. Nothing bad or traumatic. I even think the teacher spoke to me.

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At that moment, it was the adult who introduced the idea of ​​sexuality, so that I could live in society. To share the social space serenely, I had to stop rubbing myself. It is nothing you will say to me and yet! The irruption of language signifying excitement – and the prohibition that followed – posed a new direct link between the other and the sexual. As a result, I was cleaning my nose all the time (good vagina derivative), it also annoyed the adults but there was no longer that weird glow in their eyes.


Source: Slate.fr by www.slate.fr.

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