Supplemental Essay: Freedom and Anxiety

 

In the main essay I said that modern freedoms give rise to anxiety insofar as they allow us to drift without guidance. We are given no help in defining ourselves and our place in the world; as a result we get "stuck" in one-sidedness, bouncing back and forth between conventional one-sidedness and extreme one-sidedness on either the extraverted side or the introverted side. In other words, the four-position spectrum comes to look like this: 

 

Extremely one-sided extraversion <--> Conventional extraversion X--X Conventional introversion <--> Extremely one-sided introversion

 

The comfort zone for extraverts is at the "Conventional extraversion" position, and the comfort zone for introverts is at the "Conventional introversion" position. Any departure from those two positions is fraught with anxiety: 

• Movement toward the center (toggling between dichotomous opposites) becomes increasingly problematic as we age; and 

• Movement toward the outside extremes (ego expansion into extreme one-sidedness) threatens to turn into castration and neurosis.

 

In this supplemental essay I'll explain in greater detail why movement outside our comfort zone is so difficult: Movement toward the center and movement toward the outside extremes both generate anxiety. I'll address both types of movement separately.

Anxiety associated with toggling between dichotomous opposites

Basic four-position spectrum

To recap the basics:

 

Very early in life we discover the principle of dichotomous opposites and develop a preference for one or the other, with the ability to toggle between them as needed. This results in one-sidedness on a simple two-position spectrum:

 

One-sided extraversion <--> One-sided introversion

 

Our preference for extraversion versus introversion is largely determined by the narratives that serve us best in childhood. As I said above in the section entitled "Description of Sensing," our search for causality, consistency, and coherence allows us to develop narratives to explain our lives. Narratives explain the world around us, and with time and repetition they become the unconscious scripts (our "autopilot" or "gut instinct") that guide our routine actions. They become our "sense of life." The scripts and narratives preferred by extraverts will prompt them to interact with the outside world; whereas the scripts and narratives preferred by introverts will prompt them to seek guidance from inside.

 

Once we have a preference for one type of one-sidedness or the other (extraversion versus introversion), we find that we can sometimes take our one-sidedness to extremes: Extraverts occasionally engage in extreme one-sided extraversion and introverts occasionally engage in extreme one-sided introversion. This happens under stress, and extreme one-sidedness tends to represent a neurotic state: The more one-sided we are, the more defensive, rigid, combative, etc. we become. The associated four-position spectrum is as follows: 

 

Extreme one-sided extraversion <-- Conventional extraversion <--> Conventional introversion --> Extreme one-sided introversion

 

Increased one-sidedness with age

In the chapter on Intuition I said that people tend to become increasingly one-sided as they grow older. This is due to the nature of dichotomous opposites: One or the other orientation comes to rule our lives and represses the opposite orientation. Our preferences and narratives aren't just our "sense of life"; they are also our life skills. To focus on and hone one skill necessarily means ignoring or repressing an opposite skill.

 

Daemonic fears promote one-sidedness

Another factor pushing us in the direction of increased one-sidedness is the appearance of daemonic fears. As we naturally become more one-sided with age, the repressed dichotomous opposite begins to haunt us in the form of daemonic fears of persecution and punishment. I described this in the Intuition chapter in the section entitled "One-sidedness and Centroversion at the N Level."

 

To recap: Our narratives represent our "sense of life." As our orientations (extraverted or introverted, matriarchal or patriarchal, and so on) become increasingly one-sided, life will prove more complex than our one-sided narratives allow for. Contrary experiences will trip us up. When we are exposed by the world to ideas that run contrary to our "sense of life" (in other words, when we are exposed to ideas representing the dichotomous opposite) we initially tend to dismiss them as nonsense or static. But with increased one-sidedness, those same foreign ideas start rearing up from inside us as a daemonic voice from our repressed dichotomous opposites. When that happens, we have no way to account for them and we recoil from them.

 

To sum up: The more extreme we become in the use of our Dominant function, the more we end up repressing the dichotomous opposite; the repressed opposite then haunts us unconsciously in "daemonic" form as a fear or temptation. Those daemonic fears effectively reinforce our original one-sided narratives. Or, as I put it in the chapter on Sensing, the daemonic of the Great Father accompanies and serves the Terrible Mother in the event of matriarchal castration; and the daemonic of the Great Mother accompanies and serves the Terrible Father in the event of patriarchal castration.

 

Getting "stuck" on one side

The result of increased one-sidedness is that we do less and less toggling between dichotomous opposites, and we find ourselves increasingly "stuck" on one side or the other of the dichotomous pair. Repression of our dichotomous opposite and the appearance of daemonic fears tend to close off the toggling option and make it so unpalatable that we avoid it where possible. We tend to seek out our dichotomous opposite only as a last resort, that is, when we find ourselves stuck in castration (extreme one-sidedness) and a Great Parent fight; at such times our dichotomous opposite becomes our escape hatch.

Anxiety associated with ego expansion

Socialization as a source of anxiety

As I've noted elsewhere, conventional one-sidedness is associated with our comfort zone, and extreme one-sidedness is associated with anxiety:

• Conventional one-sidedness (either conventional extraversion or conventional introversion) represents the narratives that we develop to explain our lives. They become the unconscious scripts (our "autopilot" or "gut instinct") that guide our routine actions. This becomes our comfort zone.

• Extreme one-sidedness (either extremely one-sided extraversion or extremely one-sided introversion) represents conflict, neurosis, and parental castration. Movement away from our comfort zone of conventional one-sidedness is accompanied by anxiety: The more one-sided we are, the more defensive, rigid, and combative we tend to become. 

 

Socialization as a source of anxiety

Thus, any departure from our conventional narratives is often associated with anxiety. This arrangement dates back to socialization in early childhood. Two-year-olds test the limits set by their parents, and their parents punish them for their opposition. In this manner children learn that ego expansion past certain bounds results in punishment from the powerful parents.

 

As we grow older our comfort zone equates to those areas where we have parental approval; and when we depart too much from our comfort zone we begin to feel that sense of approaching doom associated in our childhood with parental punishment. Our childhood fear of parental punishment becomes our adult superego (in Freudian terms) and our conscience (in religious terms). 

 

Anxiety in adulthood

Even in adulthood when our parents are no longer around, the association between ego expansion and anxiety remains, and we feel anxiety when our ego expands too much and we depart from approved narratives. When that happens, our anxiety--that "sense of approaching doom"--prompts us to restrain ourselves and retreat back into the comfort zone of our conventional, socially-approved narratives. In other words, we self-punish by denying ourselves our desires.

 

In his book Self Matters, Dr. Phil McGraw talks about much the same thing. He describes the power of our internalized narratives, which he calls our "fixed beliefs": "Fixed beliefs tell you how things are going to turn out. They shape your expectations about your outcomes. They anesthetize your fear of the unknown by pushing you in the direction of something knowable and familiar, even if not fulfilling. When you start to feel offtrack or out of control, your fixed beliefs provide a refuge. Like a panicky actor grabbing for his script, you go back to your fixed belief. It tells you what to say and do and you instantly feel comforted. Equilibrium is restored."[1]

 

Departure from the comfort zone of our personal narratives tends to result in anxiety. Dr. McGraw continues: "When you're at the mercy of a fixed belief--in other words, when you're living from a script--you will resist any change to that script. When events go counter to your fixed beliefs, even if you recognize that you've never been happier or more peaceful, a sense of destiny intrudes. You get a queasy feeling, an apprehension that things just aren't right somehow. Your internal dialogue becomes something like, Oh my gosh! I'm going to be struck down any minute. This is not my destiny. This is not my role. What happens is that you cannot be happy being happy. You will be miserable if your script is to be miserable, because that is your self-ordained destiny."[2]

 

Naturally, a sudden negative change or trauma (an unexpected financial burden, illness, etc.) can also trigger anxiety. But anxiety can arise even from a change for the better. Dr. McGraw says: "People script a life with a certain income, certain relationships, and a certain lifestyle and although we say we want more, we're very uncomfortable about taking any steps toward change. Amazingly, people will often opt for a familiar lifestyle that is admittedly unfulfilling, rather than an unfamiliar alternative, even though that alternative may be clearly superior."[3]

 

Social validation of conventional narratives

Another consideration restricting our comfort zone is that our narratives aren't just something we personally identify with; they also represent social validation and approval. As we grow up our narratives tend to reflect the influence (and particularly the approval or disapproval) of the people around us; and the fact that we share many of our narratives with family and friends gives those narratives extra validity. So any departure from our narratives is bound to be accompanied by some level of anxiety due to social considerations.

 

Once we become adults, the conventional narratives of the social collective tend to "capture" us. When we question society's conventional narratives and stray outside them, we risk separating ourselves from the collective; we risk ridicule or ostracism from family, friends, jobs, etc. One sees this constantly on the internet: Social media are quick to criticize any departure from the norm.

 

Furthermore, those around us often see our inconsistency and disorder as a threat to them. Dr. McGraw says, "Other people may also be working from a script or series of expectations about how you should behave, what you should say and do. When you make the decision to go off script, they may feel highly threatened and anxious." If a husband suddenly embarks on a self-improvement regimen, the wife may object. She doesn't care if the change is positive or not; she doesn't evaluate it in those terms. She only knows that it is different and feels unsafe to her.[4]

 

Society approves when we stick to script, and we risk society's disapproval, shame, and guilt when we change course or otherwise don't measure up to expectations. The childhood model is our parents, who provided us love and approval but also punished us when our ego expanded past the limits they set for us.

 

Link: Return to Thinking (T)

 

~Posted September 23, 2025

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