The Characteristic Neurotic Need

The passion of this subtype is appetite, a word that describes the basic need of a living being to be fed, in connection with the organismic perception of feeling hunger. This mechanism, which ensures survival, is neurotically distorted in Self-Preservation 9. He lost contact with the feeling of hunger very early, and eating became a way of swallowing without limit or awareness. And it's not just about swallowing food but also emotions and thoughts. Appetite is the only need he can feel, the only possibility of filling his psychological and existential emptiness—his love emptiness. Eating is a defensive action against the wound of not having been adequately welcomed and protected so that he could have felt that he belonged to the other—first to the mother and then to the world. It is an action that can become self-destructive.

There are several aspects to consider in the neurotic motivation of Self-Preservation 9. The first is a need to fend for himself and not depend on anyone. This trap leads him to feel that he needs affection but does not have it. Not wanting to depend on anyone and acting as if he does not need the other, he finds it very difficult to ask for the affection he truly needs. Also, if he finally reaches out for this love contact, he does so very clumsily.

He often feels that he is not a normal person, even though he needs to feel like others. He does not want to be seen because he has always felt like he was in the way. He almost apologizes for existing and being present. And he justifies it. He disqualifies himself to avoid being disqualified—so that others do not see him as a rival.

He feels a neurotic need to take care of others because he does not take care of himself. If we analyze this in the light of appetite, his only contact with himself is eating, while giving food becomes a channel of interpersonal connection, stemming from his need to please others.

He also needs someone to tell him what he does not know, to guide him on what to do. This dependence actually serves as a way to avoid taking responsibility for himself and his emotions. What he feels, he believes, is not real.

"Dependence on the opinion of others is a burden that leads me down bitter paths. During adolescence and youth, my path was divided between a survival instinct that precisely helped me endure excesses and a need to belong that led me into risky situations, which were vital for my emotional survival." —Jordi

Laziness, coupled with the instinct for Conservation, makes him highly aware of others. What others do and say becomes very important, influencing his way of living. When he sets aside his self-imposed limitations, he can be brave—even reckless. In these moments, he needs positive support from his environment, as a negative response leads him to doubt himself, his worth, and causes him to plummet.

The Self-Preservation 9 is extremely self-critical—fiercely so. He can also be harsh toward others as soon as his violent and aggressive reaction is triggered. His self-destructive tendencies impact the people he cares about most.

"The main need is not to feel—neither pain, nor love, nor fear. There is an anger deep inside me, and I am afraid it will surface because it even scares me. I want to protect myself. I have used tobacco, and I use overeating to cover up all my anger." —Pilar

His shield is his fat, his body—so that others do not perceive him as dangerous or desirable. At the same time, there is a strong need to be joyful and to find contentment in simply being alive—a kind of Christian resignation. There is always an explanation for his unhappiness and dissatisfaction. In fact, he has two faces. Toward others, he must project well-being; they must not see his vulnerable, sad, or angry side, even if those are his true feelings. Moreover, it is best to go as unnoticed as possible. Later, when others are gone, the process of justification—or rather, resignation—begins. This happens through internal dialogue and can end in a decision that leads to self-abuse and self-punishment. In a way, this is how he escapes the reality that hurts him for not allowing himself space when in the presence of others.

Voracity is the consequence of an oath of fidelity to the irrational beliefs of childhood: “I must not be a burden to others; I am alone and must know how to do things on my own without asking for help because this would create problems for me.” And of adolescence: “I will do things on my own, I will adapt to the world, but I will not believe in its teachings.” Everything revolves around this. The mind of the Self-Preservation 9 is his Don Quixote, seeing in these irrational beliefs the only way to avoid being devoured by the world. Meanwhile, his heart and instinct are his Sancho Panza, and both hold the illusion of returning to the lost paradise by serving these irrational beliefs.

"All my life, I have nurtured this idea without asking for explanations, without questioning, externally adapting to reality while internally continuing the search for something—without, despite this, wanting to learn methods and techniques to find it. I have often said to myself: ‘If there was someone who was the first, someone who understood and acted alone (after all, there was a first who discovered fire or the wheel), why can't I be like them?’ As if there were no teachers and, deep down, I had to discover everything on my own, through my own experience. It is an extreme way of needing to act

without anyone’s help. Externally, it may seem like omnipotence, but at its core, there is pain and a deep feeling of rejection.” —Emilia

Voracity is a defense mechanism against the lack of love, contact, and stimulation experienced early in life. It may even be linked to an experience of nutritional deprivation.

"When I was a few months old, my natural hunger had to wait and conform to my mother's working hours." —Emilia

Unconsciously, the feeling remains that one must eat as much as possible when food is available because it is uncertain when it will be available again. The perception of life-threatening danger, accompanied by anguish, can reduce this voracity. However, voracity also serves a comforting function in loneliness—it creates a barrier to shield against the pain inside.

Voracity is not necessarily just a hunger for food; it can manifest as an insatiable consumption of movies, books, travel, theater, television—anything that distracts from one's feelings. There is a deep fear of pain that must be avoided at all costs. The irrational belief is that pain can be fatal.

Appetite becomes a neurotic need that has nothing to do with the pleasure of eating. It can even be a response to frustration—an anger turned inward, often resulting in gastritis or constipation.

"I enjoy, therefore I exist." It is a tangible experience that fills the void. When things go wrong, the stomach expands, and the person can consume endlessly—until feeling full and numb. It is a form of self-sabotage because the heavier one feels, the greater the resistance to change.

Always buying more food than necessary—two or more units of everything—stems from the fear of suddenly being left with nothing. It is an automatic gesture tied to the fear of scarcity and the suffering it brings—a reaction similar to that of someone who has lived through war.

Voracity is triggered as a response to anxiety and the anguish of inner emptiness. However, being neurotic, it never truly provides the satisfaction one expects. Like E3, when he looks inward, he finds nothing. Eating thus becomes a way to establish contact with himself.

“Sometimes I talk out loud and say to myself: ‘Enough is enough, Emilia! We can't always eat crap. We must start eating well and not just whatever you feel like. You need to start

cooking properly!’” (Emilia)

This "must" is a "we" constructed by himself that allows him a relationship with himself. It's just a way of continuing to feed an anguished death impulse, which quickly manifests itself when it comes into contact with the discomfort of pain or any other emotion, and the alarm signal goes off. It thus becomes a form of narcotization because it does not serve him to face and overcome anguish—only to placate him: the anguish of lack. It is like an angry god to whom offerings and sacrifices must be made to appease his wrath.

It is like being asleep, and when, for whatever reason, the Self-Preservation 9 wakes up, it responds with a compulsive action, as if, for a moment, being alive could be demonstrated through a jet of uncontrolled energy (which would be the compulsive action), but that doesn't really move you toward wanting to change anything.

In the Self-Preservation 9, there is also a very mental voracity, which runs out quickly. It is unable to go deeper, only superficially satisfying a passing curiosity, often due to impulsive thinking that feeds on itself, or also that lack of desire. Jack of all trades, master of none. He collects books that remain there for years without being read—great works that carry a deep interest and that he thinks, sooner or later, when he has a lot of time, he will manage to read. He buys them, believing he is curious to know, but it is a compulsive curiosity that passes with the possession of the book. He justifies himself by saying that one cannot live without having read them, but later, he is frustrated by the immensity of the argument and his inability to understand and resigns. But they are there to make a collection. And it may also happen that he reads them after a couple of years—or never.

"I recognize myself as compulsive also in my collecting of learning courses; I'm one of those 'learn the art and put it aside' kind of people. Learning without using it later to change, learning to fill and identify myself, as if I could say: 'I am' because I know how to do this and that and the other, but without feeling its value or creative potential." (Emilia)

Aware of his ignorance in general, and feeling guilty, he would like to remedy it by setting huge goals, or many at the same time, to become what he is not.

"For years, I have accumulated magazines on gardening, archaeology, politics, and nature without having any real cognitive interest; often, it is the images that fascinate me." (Emilia)

He is looking for an enlightening answer or something exceptional without being aware of what he is looking for; he must often reread the pages, as his voracity prevents him from paying attention.

If he is passionate about something, he quickly devours it without feeling the pleasure of discovering it. Likewise with food: what he likes, he eats quickly and takes more than he will actually eat.

The neurotic hunger for stimuli also serves to exorcise his internal discomfort, a consequence of the lack of contact with emotion. In this way, while he mentally fills himself with inputs, he continues to be dissatisfied due to the lack of emotional participation.

It is so because, in reality, greed is at the service of distraction—of not wanting to feel. It is a defense mechanism that gives you the illusion that everything is going well when, on the contrary, you are suffering. The more involved you are with external stimuli, the foggier and more distanced you are from the background discomfort. If he fills himself with things to do, he doesn't drown; he stays afloat, and he has the illusion of not needing anything or anyone. Above all, he does not need love. This is also in the service of resistance to change.

It is a lifestyle that does not entail fluidity—only automatism. He does not truly see, feel, or appreciate—only superficially.

"I really like colors, and I often buy things because of the color and not because I need them. I like to make myself wool sweaters, and many times I buy the wool, attracted by the colors—not because I need another sweater." (Emilia)

He can start several things at the same time without finishing one first; it is a chaotic impulsiveness to fix everything at once—to put things in their place in the shortest possible time—anxiously, in apnea, with a carnivorous desire that makes him devour time without savoring it.

"I wanted to embroider an aubergine, and I bought all the shades of purple; I wouldn't have started if I hadn't had them all. Then, I ordered the threads in spools by shades, and in the end, I didn’t do it, but I think about it and imagine it very beautifully." (Anna)

The hunger to travel can also be compulsive: filling his eyes with images, with places. He likes to travel and is good at taking care of the practical aspects of a trip, but he is never the one who chooses where to go. He adapts, and everything comes to him from photos—where to walk or what to see. In this, he is good. It is enough for him to travel. He can take thousands of pictures to capture each moment and feel rich in experiences that he will quickly forget when he returns.