Unconscious Forces

It’s easy to imagine that we live our lives from some kind of control room in the head: we weigh facts, make rational choices and direct ourselves with willpower. Yet my experience, both as a psychologist and as a fellow human, is that much of what we do, feel and believe arises somewhere other than the conscious 'I'. We are influenced by inner processes that run under the radar — unconscious forces — and they can color our reality in ways that both create suffering and offer us the key to growth. Psychoanalysis, with Sigmund Freud as its most famous figure, made the unconscious a cultural and clinical concern. Although many of Freud’s specific theories have later been criticized and corrected, part of the basic idea remains: humans are not always masters in their own house. We understand ourselves best when we dare to examine what happens inside us without fully knowing that it happens. In this text I will explore how unconscious aggressive forces can hide behind defense mechanisms and cultural norms, how myths about werewolves can function as a symbol of this inner struggle, and how dreams and self-reflection can become a way into what otherwise remains unspoken. Along the way I touch on Carl Jung and the idea of a collective unconscious, as well as how art and stories — like the film *The Wolfman* — can help us see ourselves more clearly. ## The unconscious: more than 'hidden thoughts' In everyday speech 'unconscious' can sound simple: we have certain thoughts or memories we’re not thinking about right now. In the psychoanalytic tradition it means more: dynamic processes that are actively kept out of consciousness because they are too painful, shameful, conflict-ridden or disruptive. The unconscious is not just an absence of attention; it can be the result of internal compromises. Freud described how humans contain drives and impulses that do not always fit with our self-image or what society expects of us. Many of these impulses are regulated by what he called the ego’s functions and various defense mechanisms. These are not 'bad' mechanisms in themselves. On the contrary, they are often necessary to manage emotional strain. But defenses can also become so effective that they shut us out from ourselves. Here lies an important insight: much of what we experience as 'objective truths' is in reality subjective experience — filtered through past experiences, relational wounds, expectations and unconscious conflicts. We can feel certain that we see the world 'as it is', but often we see the world the way our inner life has taught us to see it. ## Aggression as hidden life force Aggression is a word that often carries a negative connotation, as if it only concerns violence or evil. Psychologically, aggression is also energy: the force that enables us to set boundaries, protect ourselves, say no, break out of destructive patterns and fight for what matters. The problem arises when aggression is not tolerated — neither by ourselves nor by our surroundings. Many grow up with clear (and sometimes strict) cultural directives about what is 'acceptable' emotion. Anger can be labeled dangerous, selfish or shameful. We therefore learn to bottle it up. That can work for a while. But emotional material that is suppressed does not disappear. It often finds other expressions: irritability, passive-aggressive behavior, self-criticism, somatic complaints, addictive behavior, or relational patterns where we either become excessively accommodating or suddenly explode. It is precisely this dynamic that psychoanalytic thinking helps us notice: the inner 'animal' force cannot be abolished. It can be integrated, tamed and given a language — but if it is banished, it can return in disguise. ## Defense mechanisms: protection and barrier Defense mechanisms are the psyche’s attempts to protect us from being overwhelmed. They regulate anxiety, shame, grief and inner conflict. Some defenses are relatively mature and flexible; others are more rigid and can create distance from both our own feelings and other people. A classic point from Freud is that defenses do not only 'hide' something from us — they also shape our experience of reality. If, for example, I cannot tolerate my own envy, I may start to perceive others as arrogant and unlikeable. If I cannot tolerate my own vulnerability, I may experience another’s need as nagging or weakness. Defenses therefore do two things at once: 1. They save us from emotional overload. 2. They can hinder development by locking away important information about who we are and what we need. Much of modern suffering — stress, emptiness, relational unrest, shame, anxiety and depression — can be understood as a life where we spend enormous energy keeping unpleasant parts of ourselves at bay. Not because we are weak, but because we once learned that it was necessary. ## The werewolf as psychological symbol Werewolf mythology is a striking image of the inner struggle between culture and nature, between control and instinct. What’s fascinating about werewolf stories is that they often deal with transformation: a person becomes an animal, often in certain situations and frequently at night. Afterwards the person may wake with a vague sense of guilt, confusion or shame — as if something in them took over. As a symbol, the werewolf can represent precisely the forces we do not wish to acknowledge: rage, sexuality, a hunger for power, thoughts of revenge, or a desperate longing for freedom. When these forces are split off from consciousness, they can feel alien — 'it wasn’t me' — even while they originate from us. Art and stories can give us a safe space to examine this. The film *The Wolfman* illustrates how an individual may struggle with darker sides of the self: the horror is not only in the beast, but in the loss of control, and in the question of who you are when the layers of civilization crack. This is more than entertainment. Such narratives function as psychological mirrors. They show us that the struggle between the 'decent' and the 'animal' is not a sign we are failed people — but a sign that we are human. ## Freud today: criticism and relevance There is no reason to pretend that everything Freud said was right. Many of his theories have serious weaknesses, and much of what he described is colored by the era he lived in. At the same time it is hard to overestimate his influence on psychology and culture. It is largely thanks to Freud that concepts like the unconscious, the ego, defense mechanisms and dream interpretation became part of how we talk about mental life. And in clinical practice — in the consulting room — we still encounter the phenomena he tried to put into words: people saying one thing, meaning another, feeling a third thing, and acting in accordance with a fourth. A core idea for Freud was that psychological suffering often arises in the tension between drives, internal prohibitions and necessary adaptations. If this tension becomes too tight, we pay the price. Therapy then becomes a way to loosen the knot, not by 'winning over' feelings, but by understanding them. ## Dreams as an entrance to the hidden Dreams have a special place in classical psychoanalysis. Freud believed dreams could be a kind of royal road to the unconscious because they allow us to process conflicts and wishes in symbolic form when ordinary control mechanisms are weaker. You don’t have to believe that every dream has one solution or one hidden 'code'. Dreams can be understood more as emotional stories: they often show what we are preoccupied with, what we fear, what we long for, and which conflicts are smoldering beneath the surface. In practice, dreams can help in at least three ways: - **They put images to feelings** we don’t quite have words for in waking life. - **They point to themes** that recur in our lives (power, rejection, shame, belonging, control). - **They can lower the threshold for self-compassion**, because we find it easier to explore symbols than to admit 'I am jealous' or 'I am furious.' Dreams can therefore function as a gentle invitation into what otherwise feels too threatening. ## Conscious and unconscious: a collaboration, not a war A misconception is that psychological development is about 'overcoming' the unconscious. I see it more as a collaboration. Our consciousness is a fantastic tool for planning, morality, perspective-taking and reflection. But the unconscious holds information about needs, pain, impulses and relational experiences that consciousness does not always have access to. The challenge arises when we develop a hostile relationship to our inner life. When we begin to think that certain feelings make us bad, or that impulses are dangerous in themselves. Then the strategy often becomes escape: distraction, control, achievement, numbness. In the short term this can bring relief. In the long term it can create alienation. Living a more genuine life often means the opposite: tolerating more of yourself. Not to act out everything you feel, but to be able to choose more freely. The one who does not acknowledge their own anger is more easily driven by it. The one who can hold their own aggression can also use it constructively — for clarity, integrity and boundaries. ## Becoming your own 'psychotherapist': the journey toward self-insight I believe many carry a longing to understand themselves more deeply. Not just as an intellectual exercise, but because it gives a sense of inner coherence. Becoming your own psychotherapist does not mean analyzing yourself nonstop or being alone with everything. It means developing an inner language for what happens in you so that you are not a victim of forces you do not know. This journey often involves three steps: 1. **Notice the reactions**: Pay attention to patterns in feelings, body and behavior. What triggers me? What do I do when I feel unsafe? 2. **Explore the meaning**: Ask what the reaction is trying to protect. What pain lies beneath? Which need is not being met? 3. **Integrate**: Allow the feeling to be a feeling, without becoming it or having to act it out. Put words to it. Share it in safe relationships. Use it as information. This is where defense mechanisms can soften. Not by force, but through safety and understanding. ## Jung and the collective unconscious: myths as a psychological map Carl Jung took the idea of the unconscious in a different direction than Freud. Whereas Freud emphasized the personal unconscious (what we have experienced and repressed), Jung also emphasized what he called the collective unconscious: a layer of the psyche that is common to humans, expressed through archetypes, symbols and mythological themes. No matter how literally one takes Jung’s terms, there is a useful insight here: people across the world tell similar stories about inner conflicts — about heroes and shadows, about transformation, temptation, taboo, shame and redemption. Myths can give us a language for what otherwise becomes private and wordless. In a Jungian reading, the werewolf can be understood as an expression of the 'shadow' — the parts of ourselves we do not want to acknowledge but which still seek expression. If the shadow is ignored, it often becomes more destructive. If it is integrated, it can become a source of vitality and wholeness. ## The price of fleeing — and the gain of confronting Making the unconscious conscious can be demanding. For many it means facing grief they have kept at bay, anger they have feared, or shame they have lived in secret. It can feel painful, and at times it may seem as if you lose your footing before you find a new balance. At the same time there is liberation here. When we stop using so much energy to keep ourselves down, we gain more access to life. Relationships can become more authentic because we dare to show more of ourselves. Our choices can become freer because they are less governed by hidden needs for control, validation or avoidance. Taming 'the inner werewolves' therefore is not about becoming kinder, more polished or more perfect. It is about becoming more whole. To be able to say: 'This is also me.' Not as an excuse for destructiveness, but as a starting point for responsibility and maturity. A genuine life often arises in the meeting of light and dark. At the moment we stop fleeing from the parts of ourselves that frighten us, we can begin to understand them. And when we understand them, we can also relate to them with wisdom — instead of being ruled by them. --- **Would you like to dive deeper into this topic?** This is a theme psychologist Sondre Risholm Liverød discusses further in the podcast episode of the same name. You can find the episode as part of the practice material at [BeBalanced.ai](https://bebalanced.ai).