Bi-sexual love; the homosexual neurosisStekel, Wilhelm
Science
Bi-sexual love; the homosexual neurosis
Stekel, Wilhelm
Homosexuality; Neuroses
While I am immersed in thought, my uncle comes along; he had helped
through the day working in the field and on his way home stopped near
me in front of the big door; he throws out some jocular allusions;
among other remarks saying: “it would be healthier for you if you
plowed up a few acres instead of idling away.”
I point to the team of horses hitched to the harrow, jocularly saying:
“oh, yes, certainly, but not with so poor a team. These two animals
should have been dumped on the scrap heap long ago, specially this left
one bearing himself so proudly when he is only an old nag.”
I hardly finished my words, when the horse started and broke his traces
madly to jump at me.
I started to run, fled up the first stairway and ran into the kitchen
shutting the door after me. Then I ran into the next room and
barricaded the door with every furniture article I found handy. The
horse was already at the door kicking until he broke through and made
his way into the room.
Meanwhile I ran to another room, again shutting the door but even as I
did so I knew that it wouldn’t be an effective barrier. I looked around
the room for some other means of escape and to my surprise saw my
sister standing behind me.
The horse had broken down the door enough to be able to stretch his
head through into the room and his dilated nostrils snorted angrily.
Sister handed me a small round stove calling out to defend myself with
the stove lids, they will prove an effective weapon.
The horse was ready to jump inside the room so I hurled at him first
the covers then the whole stove as powerfully as I could. At the last
critical moment I caught sight of another door, hurried out ran to the
stairway and woke up.
I went over the whole dream in my mind to make sure that I will
remember to tell it to my psychoanalyst. Shortly after that I fell
again into a light slumber and dreamed that I had gone to the analyst
who treats me:
He occupied a commodious residence with broad stairways. I found myself
face to face with him; he was doing something in a closet. I stood by
and told him the foregoing dream.
He went away for a while to attend to some important matters, as he had
to drive off in about one half hour. Then he called me down to him and
asked me to continue my story while he was lacing his shoes.
When I finished I moved off and through a side door and there I met my
mother. I exchanged a few words with her, opened the door, which led to
a glass-covered veranda and saw a locomotive and open fire.
The engineer moved various levers in vain, he could not start the
engine. Meanwhile the physician arrived, looked at his watch, and
remarked impatiently that it is already late. Suddenly a servant girl
comes running down the steps bringing three carefully tied up paper
packages (or bundles).
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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