Nerves and personal power; some principles of psychology as applied to conduct and health

Front matter

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, TYRRELL A ^

Preface

THE aim of this treatise is to give to the public a much needed understanding of those fac¬ tors in every day living which on the one hand tend toward nervous weakness, and on the other make for personal power.

From the author’s viewpoint, everybody at times suffers from symptoms which are popularly termed “ nervous,” for nervousness is a matter of degree rather than of kind. Whether “ nerves ” take the form of unreasonable impulsiveness or of serious obsessions occasioning body pain, the fundamental cause and radical cure of both are essentially the same.

It is realized that nervous invalids who most urgently require the teachings of this book, unfor¬ tunately will be those least likely to derive direct benefit from it. In the treatment of even the most serious functional neuroses, however, there comes a time when the patient is ready for a closer knowl¬ edge than the physician has time to convey, of the reasons underlying nervous disability, and of the course to be followed to prevent a relapse. To all such sufferers, as well as to those entrusted with the care of nervous invalids, it is hoped the book will make a special appeal.

zi xii

PREFACE

A scientific consideration of the cause and pre¬ vention of mental suffering should form a sine qua non of social service and religious guidance. The author hopes that the material here assembled from philosophy, psychology, psychiatry, and other sources having a direct bearing on this border line subject, may not only give to social workers and religious teachers a similar point of view, but may also be an incentive to deeper and more serviceable reading. It may be also that because of its im¬ portance in medico-legal controversies, the non¬ technical explanation of the functional nervous diseases will prove helpful to members of the legal profession.

In any discussion, however limited, of the great mysteries of the mind, it is, at this early period in the development of psychology, inevitable that the theories advanced should be critically viewed by those whose study, or lack of study, may have led them to other conclusions. The author has sought to be as little disturbing as possible to those who have a working philosophy of life. To any who are yet unsatisfied, the theories of mind advanced by William James and William McDougall, and briefly touched upon and applied in this book, seem to afford a basis of reality at once tangible, ra¬ tional, and integrating.

It may be helpful to the reader who craves un¬ derstanding in his disability, to know that the author, through personal experience, realizes some-

PREFACE thing of the point of view of a sufferer. After successfully waging a battle with tuberculosis for over five years, he has become crippled and bed¬ ridden as the result of an organic nerve degenera¬ tion causing progressive muscular atrophy. Al¬ though he has been thus deprived of many of the pleasures of life, happiness has seemed to him with each passing year a greater reality. The secret of happiness as the author conceives it, is set forth in the pages which follow.

Denver , Colo.

D. M. K.

Part I— Facts

chapter PAGE

I. “ Nerves ” and the Premises - . 15 II. The Nervous Machine . . .25

III. Instincts, Emotions and the In¬

tellect . 44

IV. The Moral Sele . . . .60

V. Environment and Adaptation . 73

VI. The Criterion oe Good and Evil . 85

VII. Discrimination and Balance . 94

VIII. Wisdom and Objective . . . 104

PART II— FACTS IGNORED IX. Impulse and Reaction . . .114

X. Unhealthy Mental Habits . . 125

XI, Suggestion and Suggestibility . 139

XII. Suppression and Dissociation . 151

XIII. The Major Nervous Disabilities . 162

CONTENTS

PART III— FACTS APPLIED XIV. The Object in View . . .176

XV. The Master Sentiment eor

Truth . 191

XVI. The Control oe Everyday Ac¬ tivities . 206

XVII. Seee-Control in Ordinary Living. 227

XVIII. The Control of Parental Love

and of Anger .... 252

XIX. The Control of Fear . . . 274

XX. Elation and Personal Power . 291

Index . 307

Part I Facts I

THERE is no denying that the last doctor con¬ sulted made a thorough examination, and, like the others, he has said: “There is nothing organically wrong; it is only ‘nerves.’” Somehow the thought always seems to be implied that there is nothing really wrong, that it is all imagination, and to say the least, this is disheart¬ ening, because you and I know there is something very much wrong, and we realize that unless we discover what that something is, and take definite steps to correct it, we must continue the increas¬ ingly unhappy existence which has become daily bondage.

First of all, let us carefully examine the doctor’s statement. He has said, “Nothing organically wrong.” Just what does this mean? Let us sup¬ pose, as an illustration, that you frequently have trouble with your telephone. It buzzes and crackles, sometimes the conversation is cut off, fre¬ quently you are given the wrong number, or you find there are several parties trying to get a hearing at the same time. After repeated complaints, the trouble department comes to the conclusion that there may be something radically wrong, and it sends out a lineman to examine systematically the telephone, the batteries, the wires, the big cables, the switchboard, in short, every part of the mech¬ anism. You know for a fact that the lineman is an expert at his work, and that he will recognize trouble the moment he sees it. His report is, how¬ ever, that everything is in perfect order ; no broken wires, no twists in the cable, the solution in the battery quite up to normal, and each part of the works just as perfect as the day it was installed. His verdict would be, “ Nothing organically wrong.”

Does this mean there is nothing wrong, that all the trouble you experience on the telephone is only imagination? Hardly. No one can deny that the confusion is marked, and the conversations are often muddled, and in spite of what anybody may say, you realize that you are not getting out of the telephone the satisfaction to which you are entitled.

Under the circumstances, being convinced that in the mechanism there is no trouble, no organic trouble, you are compelled to believe that the fault must lie with the personal factor of the telephone system, the central operator. We can imagine a great variety of things which might be wrong with “ Central.” She might not know her business !

She might be listening continually to other people’s advice as to how to operate the board instead of using her own common sense. Possibly, she day ' ' dreams, or may be she simply does not wish to take - the trouble! We could go on and fill pages with speculations as to what the trouble with central might be; it is enough, however, that we should realize that if the discomfort we experience with the telephone is not in the works, is not organic, it must be due to faulty methods employed by the central operator.

You have recognized, of course, the analogy between the telephone system and the nervous sys¬ tem. In the nervous system, the senses such as the organs of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch, all are telephones through which messages are sent to headquarters. The eye and ear are like telephones in very busy stations where thousands of messages are sent daily. The nerves correspond to the wires which go from each telephone, and for the greater part converge at the great cable or spinal cord which enters the brain. The brain is an¬ alogous to the main office where the central ope¬ rator, who is recognizable in the moral self, carries * out its function.

It is not our purpose to try to determine just how much a thing apart from the body the moral self is, but it is important that we should realize that our body mechanism can be disturbed from the way it is run, as well as from a breakdown in the works.

Illness of any kind means that the body machine, or some part of it, has ceased to carry out its work or function in the normal healthy manner that is to its best interests. The function of any part of the body is the purpose of that part ; for example, the purpose or function of the muscles is movement; the function of the heart is to pump blood to every part of the body, and so on. The function of any part of the body may be interfered with by two classes of conditions; first, mismanagement, and second, injury. The disturbance caused by doing things which are unwise, or by neglecting other things to which attention should be given, is called functional; the disturbance caused by actual in¬ jury, is organic.

It is evident that wrong methods in connection with the management of the body, if kept up long enough, will eventually cause actual injury with change in body tissues. By means of a careful examination of the body, doctors can tell to a prac¬ tical certainty whether or not there is organic injury. If there be no organic injury, the illness is functional, that is to say, there is an interference with the normal working of the body machine caused by wrong living. The human body is man¬ aged by the instincts, the intellect, and the moral self. Were the intellect well informed in every¬ thing pertaining to the body’s needs and the moral self quite strong in its support of the intellect, there could be no functional illness of any kind.

Consider this example of a functional disability. Tommy has discovered a pound box of chocolates, and proceeds to demolish the contents without con¬ sideration of any such wizened up thing as self-control. Result: Tommy goes to bed, and the doctor who treats the nausea, etc., says, “ Indi¬ gestion, caused by too many chocolates.” That undoubtedly is the case, but the fact of the matter . is that Tommy’s stomach organically is as healthy and strong as that of an ostrich, and that part of him wherein the primary trouble lies, is not his body but his foolish self, which allowed his body to do a thing that would have put a strong man on his back. If experience, or some kind friend, does not educate Tommy’s ego to control his appetite for chocolates, the indigestion will become just as persistent, just as chronic, as the opportunity to over-indulge. It will be a long, long time, how¬ ever, before Tommy’s stomach becomes diseased, that is, develops anything organically wrong.

This is all very simple, and day by day in the majority of ailments a doctor is called upon to treat, he is but adjusting the patient’s central ope¬ rator with a little education and persuasion, which is much more precious than pills and plasters. Strange though, is it not, how peeved the patient is, if the drugs are omitted!

It is a matter of interesting speculation as to just how much organic disease finds its origin in unintentional mismanagement, or neglect of the body. If we all were to live as we should, there perhaps would be no disease. Whether or not it be due to ourselves, our neighbors, or our ancestors, the fact is, however, that germs, malignant growths, continuous poisoning, and other things quite beyond our limited personal control, do at¬ tack the body machine and injure it — cause organic change in it.

After the damage is done, it is doubtful whether education can be of much avail in affecting dis¬ eased body tissues; the power of thought, however, is so remarkable in some of its manifestations that scientists are becoming less dogmatic in negative statements concerning it. We are at any rate on safe ground in asserting that, even in chronic organic disease, especially if there be nervous symptoms, and there nearly always are, a realiza¬ tion of the truth with regard to “nerves” may prove a wonderful help in effecting a cure, and in making life more worth living.

The doctor’s statement, “nothing organically wrong,” means that whatever discomfort you ex¬ perience in your body or mind is not occasioned by any breakdown in the body’s mechanism. There is no disease in the back, in the brain, heart, liver, stomach or in the body as a whole. All your tired¬ ness, pains and depressing thoughts are due to im¬ perfect functioning on the part of the body’s organs. The imperfect functioning is accounted for by the way your self runs the body machine.

In other words, in your habits of living lies the fundamental cause of all your troubles.

One of the most important laws of medical science is that the cause, that is to say the fun¬ damental mental cause of any disability, is the thing which, above all else, should be treated. Obviously if the cause can be removed, the symp¬ toms will vanish. To treat pains and depression and tiredness without concerning oneself with the fundamental cause, is like smothering smoke in an effort to put out fire.

From these facts it is apparent that while medi¬ cines may temporarily alleviate the discomfort caused by a wrong way of living, a permanent cure is to be found, first, by weeding out misconcep¬ tions and replacing them with true information; and second, which is more difficult, by putting the truth into daily practice. Know also, for a fact, that every functional disability, that is, every ill¬ ness where there is nothing organically wrong, can be cured, and will be cured, just as soon as the intellect understands and the moral self makes the body conform to right living principles.

The second part of the doctor’s statement to the effect that it is “ only nerves ” which are respon¬ sible for your troubles, seems in some ways to be a contradiction to the fact that there is nothing or¬ ganically wrong. It is as though the lineman in the telephone service had said, “ There is nothing broken in the mechanism, it is only wires.” Obviously, this is ridiculous, and the only excuse for the use of the term “ nerves ” is that the directing mind element or self belongs to the nervous system in the same way as the central operator is a part of the telephone system.

Your nerves are just as strong and perfect in every way as are the wires of the telephone system. They carry messages quite as accurately, and their function or purpose is really less easily affected than the function of other organs.

Fortunately, the diagnosis, “ nerves,” even if it be a misnomer, limits the great range of possible causes to something you can realize, something you can combat, something you can cure.

The life of the human body is supported and carried on by a number of clearly defined systems which work for the well-being of the individual. For example, there is the muscular system, the di¬ gestive system, the respiratory system, and so on. When illness overtakes the body, the point of attack is not the body as a whole, as many suppose, but usually just one definite system. On the other hand, it is quite exceptional for one system to be the point of attack without, sooner or later, one or more of the other systems suffering from the de¬ rangement in the first. For example, when Tommy demolished the pound of chocolates, the point of attack was the digestive system, but it was not long before the disturbed digestive system affected the muscular system and Tommy felt weak, the circulatory system and Tommy became pale, the nervous system and a rise in temperature took place.

If trouble with the digestive system causes dis¬ turbance in other systems, even more so does an untrue or distorted habit of thought and conduct affect different parts of the body. One has but to recall the analogy of the telephone system to realize how every cubic inch of the body is in intimate association with the mind through the nervous sys¬ tem — is literally attached to the brain with nerve threads, just as each telephone is attached to head¬ quarters with a wire. When, therefore, the seat of trouble is in central headquarters, it is not surpris¬ ing that the effects should manifest themselves in any and every part of the body to which a nerve travels.

If unhealthy mental conditions cause an upset in systems other than the nervous, of course, in its turn, that upset is capable of coming back at the nervous system and causing still more mental dis¬ tress. Thus in the body there becomes established a “vicious circle” — a society for the mutual ad¬ versity of associated systems!

Such a condition sooner or later becomes intoler¬ able, and there arises a determination to cease cavilling about persistent thoughts, tiredness, ir¬ ritability, and depression, which after all, are only effects, and to grapple with the primary cause — to break in on the vicious circle at the place where it has its origin.

Anybody who tries to persuade you that the symptoms of which you complain are not real does not understand the situation. When you suffer, there is no denying that the suffering is bona fide. This, however, is not the point, and your suffering will continue just as long as you make it the chief consideration. If you are to get well, you must realize that your whole consideration must be given to the cause of your troubles, and that your symp¬ toms, whatever or wherever they may be, are of so little importance in comparison with the cause, that they can be quite ignored. Doubtless from time to time the symptoms will force themselves upon your attention, but know, as surely as you are reading this book, that if you will grapple as you should with the cause, the symptoms

“ Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,

And as silently steal away.”

We start from the premises that you have had a careful examination by the doctor; that he has said that you have nothing organically wrong, or if you have organic trouble, he is treating it. He will make clear to you which symptoms are accounted for by organic body changes. All other symptoms are functional, and will, you may rest assured, dis¬ appear one by one as you comprehend and put into practice the principles set forth in the following pages.

II

WE have traced the general cause of nervous¬ ness to the place where it has its origin. We find that the trouble centres about the manner in which the moral self carries out its function or purpose. Because the moral self does not make the body carry out its work in keeping with wise principles, the body and mind are made to suffer. What, then, is the function of the moral self, and how and where is it failing to achieve what the body as a whole looks to it to do? To give a clear conception of this, it is necessary first that we should understand something of the mechanism the moral self is called upon to control.

Long, long ago, at the time which, in Genesis, is described as the fourth and fifth day or period, when living things first existed on this world, life was so comparatively simple that one can readily grasp something of the workings of the elemental nerve processes which, millions of years later, evolved into the mechanism underlying that elusive complexity we call the personality.

To-day, even as in the long ago, the most primi¬ tive living thing consists of but a single cell. While quite incapable of doing anything on its own account, the cell possesses within itself the power of repeatedly showing response to one or more of the great forces of nature which stimulate it. It is endowed with a wonderful form of energy — the energy of life.

With every response to an outside stimulus, some of the living substance of the cell is consumed. The living substance is replenished by food materials which the cell absorbs. So it is that in this micro¬ scopic unit of life may be found the same principle of income and expenditure of living energy that governs every one of the billions of living cells which make up the human body.

In the beginning, when life first materialized it¬ self in matter, it would have been difficult to dis¬ tinguish one living cell from another. As time went on, the energy of life, growing ever larger and fuller, reached out in many directions, generally with success, but sometimes with failure. Always there was division of cells, with each part retain¬ ing something of the original, but losing in one direction while gaining in another. In this way there came about a division into the vegetable and animal kingdoms, each retaining much in common but differing in tendency, the vegetable drifting toward stability, the animal toward conscious mobility.

Each body of living cells is virtually a commun¬ ity of co-operating units, and it is the tendency of certain groups of cells in each body more and more to become specialists in some line of work, that is, to develop a special function which will be help¬ ful to every other group in the community. Of cells which comprise animal life, one group which lies on the outside of the body becomes somewhat hardened, and forms a protective covering which we recognize as the skin. Another group become especially concerned in the matter of movement; the cells of this group constitute muscle fibres. A third group, called nerve cells, is engaged in catch¬ ing up stimuli from without, and conveying such stimuli to the muscles.

In conformity with the requirements of the special work which cells are called upon to per¬ form, the shape, colour, and general appearance of each group, are altered and become characteristic. Under the microscope, the cells which comprise the skin call to mind the various bricks, blocks, and flag stones used in pavements. The muscle cells re¬ semble striped elastic bands, and a nerve cell may be likened to a tree with a very long trunk or to a diminutive devil-fish which has one very long tentacle or axon, and a number of short tentacles called dendrons.

The work of the body of a nerve cell seems to be simply to keep its axons and dendrons supplied with nourishment, while the axon and dendrons afford an excellent conducting medium along which impulses travel. So long is the axon that in some cases, as in a tall man, it may extend several feet.

It is finer than the finest filament of silk, and some¬ times has a few branches. When bound together in great numbers, the axons of nerve cells form a glossy white strand which is recognized by the naked eye as a nerve. A nerve has little more function than a telephone wire. Simply it is a con¬ ductor of stimuli. An electric current applied to it anywhere in its course, will give rise to an impulse which will travel along the nerve at the rate of several yards a second.

The functioning or working portion of nerve elements seems to be located at the spot where the dendrons of one nerve cell form a junction with the dendrons of another. The junction is called a synapse. The dendrons of two nerve cells form a synapse just as the tops of two trees might cross or intertwine their branches ; or, to hold to the analogy of the devil-fish, just as two such creatures might interlace their tentacles. When an impulse of suf¬ ficient strength reaches a synapse, it touches off, as it were, another impulse or series of them.

At the point where an axon, that is, a long tentacle of the nerve cell, reaches the surface of the body, there is attached to its end a micro¬ scopic receiver for stimuli from outside the body. The receiver is called a sense organ. When some form of energy, as for example a touch, comes in contact with the skin, the receiver or sense organ receives the stimulus, and through a minute explosion, that is through chemical changes within itself, sends an impulse along the axon and stimulates the synapse or nerve centre to functionate.

When a nerve which enters a muscle is stimu¬ lated with an electric current or by other means, an impulse travels along the nerve into the muscle, and some of the combustible material in the muscle is touched off by the impulse ; as a result the muscle contracts. It is an interesting fact that when freshly prepared frogs’ legs are being cooked, it is necessary to cover the frying pan or quite possibly the legs will jump out. This is because the heat of the pan, touching the end of a nerve filament, sends a strong impulse into the leg muscles, which con¬ tract violently as a result.

In a living body an impulse starting at a sense organ always has to pass through a synapse or junction of nerve cells in its course from sense organ to muscle. It is at the junction of the nerve cells that the impulse from a sense organ initiates an impulse to a muscle. So it is that such a junc¬ tion of nerve cells is called a nerve centre. The cell with its axon and dendrons or filaments on one side of the centre comprises the afferent or sensory path along which travels the impulse from the sense organ; the cell on the other side comprises the efferent or motor path along which travels the im¬ pulse from the nerve centre that will cause muscular contraction and movement. Such a combination of nerve cells is a working unit, and is called a sensori-motor nervous arc. The special work of the sensori motor arc is to cause the muscles to react when the sense organ is stimulated.

In a large sense, the behaviour of any living creature is nothing more or less than the muscular movements of that creature. The conduct of man is made up of locomotion, speech (which also is muscular action), movements of the hands and arms, and so on. To be sure, these movements, like the letters of the alphabet, have become joined together in many forms and fashions, but just as a thesis or a beautiful poem depends on the letters of the alphabet for its expression, so the most highly complex conduct is but an integration of reflex action.

In the sensori-motor arc, the point of greatest importance for our understanding of the mind in later evolution, is what has been termed the nerve centre, or junction of the sensory and motor nerve cells. Whether or not, like a devil-fish, the nerve cell is able to draw in its short tentacles or dendrons, has not been proved, but it seems there is very often a slight break in continuity at the place where the dendrons of one cell join those of an¬ other, and that the connection varies in intimacy from time to time. It is possible that some highly specialized material lies between the approximating dendrons, and influences the facility with which impulses pass the synapses or nerve centres. In any event, the synapse always is somewhat resistant to the passage of impulses, and is sometimes par¬ ticularly so.

The resistance of the synapse to the passage of impulses, is affected permanently by some in¬ fluences, and temporarily by others. Every time an impulse goes through the synapse, a molecular change takes place in it so that there is a perma¬ nent lowering of resistance to the passage of subse¬ quent impulses. Impulses often repeated would seem in this way to create an energy path so that an impulse which was so small that originally it would have been blocked, gets through quite easily. Herein lies the explanation of habit, and how grad¬ ually with repetition of any kind of conduct, it becomes easier and easier for the impulses which bring about the action to find a passage.

If one impulse is not successful in passing a synapse, quite possibly another impulse of just the same strength will afford to the first the boost necessary to put it across. So it is that an unsuc¬ cessful impulse, if quickly repeated, is not lost, it waits for another stimulus, and adds itself to it. Of course the stronger the stimulus the more surely

goes through the synapse, and causes a more marked effect on the muscle. Should the impulse try to go in the backward direction, it is blocked at the synapse which thus acts as a valve allowing the current to pass only in the forward direction.

Of the temporary influences, fatigue makes the synapse more resistant to the passage of impulses, but with rest, the synapse quickly recovers. When there is a state of general excitement in the nervous elements, impulses pass more readily, and when the nerve arc has not conveyed impulses for some time, the resistance is greater. The blood supplies the nerve cells with nourishment, and if the blood con¬ tains toxins or hypnotic drugs, very naturally the synapses are affected so that they become more resistant to the passage of impulses.

In the scale of evolution, creatures of the nature of a fish worm are of higher development than the jelly-fish. The fish worm is made up of a series of segments the cells of which have assumed more highly specialized functions, and serve the com¬ munity of segments as a whole. One group of cells comprises an alimentary tract, and looks after the digestion of food; another group forms a kidney, and assists in general elimination of the waste products; and a third group of cells, constituting the blood, travels to each segment or member of the community, providing it with supplies, and carrying away the by-products of combustion.