=Something Wrong.= These cases are chosen at random and are typical of scores of others.  In no single case was the trouble feigned or imaginary or unreal.  But in every case it was a mistake. The sense of loss of muscular power was really a sense of loss of power on the part of the soul. Some inner force was reaching out, reaching out after something which it could never quite attain.  As it happened, in every case that I analyzed, the force which felt itself defeated and inadequate was the thwarted instinct of reproduction.  Like a man pinned to the ground by a stronger force, it felt itself most helpless while struggling the hardest.  Just as we feel a thrill of fright when we step up in the dark and find no step there, so this instinct had gotten itself ready for a step which was not there.  Inner repressions or outer circumstances had denied satisfaction and left only an undefined sense that something was wrong.  The life-force, feeling itself helpless, limp, tired, had no way of expressing itself except in terms of the body.  Since expression is itself a relief and an outlet for feeling, the denied desire had seized on suggestions of overwork to explain its sense of weariness, and had symbolized its soul-pain by converting it into a physical pain.  The feeling of inadequacy was very real, but it was simply displaced from one part of the personality to another,—­from an unknown, inarticulate part to one which was more familiar and which had its own means of expression.

=Locked-up Energy.= We do not know just how the soul can make its pain so intensely real to the body, but we do know that any conviction on the part of the subconscious mind is quickly expressed in the physical machine.  A conviction of pain or of powerlessness is very soon converted into a feeling which can scarcely be denied.  The mere suggestion that the body is overworked is enough to make it tired.

We know, too, that the instincts are the great releasers of energy.  So it happens that when our most dynamic instinct—­that for the reproduction of the race—­is repressed, we lack one of the greatest sources of usable energy.  The energy is there, but it is not accessible.  Inhibited and locked away, it is not fed into the engine, and we feel exactly as though it were nil.  Despite its name, the disease neurasthenia does not signify a real asthenia or weakness.  Rather, it is a disorder in which there is plenty of energy that has somehow been temporarily misplaced.  Then, too, we must remember that under the depressing influence of chronic fear, not quite so much energy is stored away as would otherwise be.  All the bodily functions are slowed down; food is not so completely assimilated, the heart-beat is weakened, the breathing is more shallow, and fatigue products are more slowly eliminated.  As Du Bois says, “An emotion tires the organism more than the most intense physical or intellectual work.”