Death —and the Seduction of Despair

At the end of his seminar, Lacan says that “a letter always arrives at its destination.” Well, this may not be exactly true in today’s world regarding letters delivered by the local post office, but it is true in regard to letters—signifiers—in the unconscious. A signifier always arrives at its unconscious destination. And here is where death and repetition are joined. For there is always one dark part of the unconscious—call it an “ego state”—which knows the truth about the worthlessness of its own social identifications. And no matter how much we may employ our vain defenses to hide our despair about the emptiness of social constructs, everything comes back to this part which “knows.”

And what exactly does it know? It “knows” death. It knows the haunting reality that stands before us all with the power to wipe away in an instant everything we think we are. And, for children of dysfunctional families, it knows the unspoken but constant thought that dances though their heads: “You don’t deserve to live and so it would be better for others if you were dead.”




We dance round in a ring and suppose,
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.

—Robert Frost-


The secret—this ugly treasure of a dark ego state—sits quietly as our defenses dance round it in repetitive, unwitting homage.

From this dark place, therefore, come all addictions. All the alcohol and drugs, all the gambling, all the cigarettes, all the sports, all the shopping, all the fashion, all the television, all the entertainment, all the gluttony, all the sex that masquerades as love—all the perversions—come from this place as a way, like a vampire, to suck vicarious life from the world around you.

From this dark place comes all prejudice, as a way to puff up your own value by demeaning others.

From this dark place comes the urge to respond to hurt and insult with pride and revenge, as a way to hurt others as you have been hurt.

From this dark place comes the urge to savor the taste of death by taking risks. The thrill of an adrenaline “rush” or the social “status” of making yourself seen as a rebel serves as a flash of illusion to hide your own dark emptiness—or, in the case of adolescents, the spiritual emptiness of your family.

From this dark place comes the sly grin of disobedience, as a way to scorn the world that scorns your humanity when you are made into a mere pawn of consumerism.

From this dark place comes the preoccupation with medical problems (as in Somatization Disorder and Hypochondriasis). The constant attention you receive through medical treatment becomes a way to fill up the emptiness of feeling that you “shouldn’t be alive.” But as long as your inner despair remains unconscious—and untreated psychologically—all the time and money spent on medical care is like pouring water into a sieve.

From this dark place comes all masochistic self-sabotage, whereby you manage to mess things up just as you have the chance to succeed. You procrastinate, you miss a deadline, you fail to follow directions, you get lost on the way to an appointment, you forget to mail an important letter, and so on.

From this dark place comes the impulse to self-mutilation.

From this dark place comes all suicide.


Note that child abuse does not actually cause this dark despair, but the abuse can amplify the belief that you are nothing but “garbage” to be used for someone’s sexual pleasure—a piece of flesh to be used and then discarded like trash. And the usual unconscious psychological defense against this despair is to actually make yourself into a piece of sexual garbage. Think about it. Most prostitutes were sexually abused as children. Does that say enough?




Yes, the secret sits in the middle and knows. And a dark part of us cries out in pain as the seduction of our despair—ceaselessly and repetitively—returns unto it.