
Repetition Compulsion: Why We Repeat What Hurts Us
When we experience trauma, rejection, or unprocessed pain, our minds find ways to bury it. Mostly because the real pain is in not understanding the trauma, the cruelty of life that can just shatter at any time. We think we have suppressed it.
Freud famously said, "What we do not remember, we repeat.
When we experience trauma, rejection, or unprocessed pain, our minds find ways to bury it. Mostly because the real pain lies in not understanding its meaning, the shocking cruelty of life that can just shatter at any time. The ways trauma affects us are complex, happening entirely within us, and we carry the pain, confusion, and inner struggle alone. We may think or believe that it’s gone, but we repeat it in various ways, hoping to regain control or make sense of our conflicting emotions. 'How can the person who is supposed to love me abandon me?' This is an example of some questions we may not find resolutions for. The mental pain comes from not processing or integrating our experiences into our emotional reality, and the confusion it creates within our minds. It is as though there is an unconscious drive to recreate the pain, giving us the illusion that we can rewrite our history with what is familiar. This phenomenon illustrates the core of repetition compulsion as Freud understood it.
Freud's Repetition Compulsion: Repetition and Defence Mechanisms
For instance, someone who grew up in an environment where emotions were dismissed or ridiculed may unconsciously continue that pattern, either by cutting off their own emotions or by seeking relationships where their feelings are once again invalidated. Another might repeatedly find themselves in situations where they feel abandoned, not because they seek suffering, but because they are trying to make sense of a wound from long ago.
If we were made to feel unworthy as children, we unconsciously seek validation in the same ways that failed us before. If we were taught that emotions were dangerous or shameful, we shut them down or numb them, only for them to return in unexpected and peculiar ways. We may believe we are moving forward, but often we are merely repeating. The same emotional patterns, the same relationship struggles, the same inner conflicts—just appearing in different forms.
Our defences are not just bad habits; they are survival strategies. But survival is not the same as living and feeling present and in control. Freud described repetition compulsion as the tendency to unconsciously recreate painful experiences, not because we enjoy suffering, but because we are trying—again and again—to master something unresolved. The problem is, without awareness, we are simply trapped in an endless loop, reliving the same wounds without tending to them and naturally, there will be neglect of some sort. Neglect of oneself, others, our reality and our mental health. Through therapy, individuals can begin to recognise these patterns and work toward more understanding and appreciation to our mental health and the meaning of this compulsion to repeat.
Repetition Compulsion in Relationships: The Burden of Guilt
Guilt is a complex emotion, it is a deeply human emotion. Some forms of guilt can be helpful, reminding us of our responsibilities and connections to others. But persecutory guilt—the relentless, unshakable feeling that one is fundamentally flawed or undeserving of good things—is far more insidious. This type of guilt does not arise from specific actions but from a deeper, more existential place.
With this kind of guilt, we often feel that we are constantly falling short, that we must always do more, be better, and prove our worth. We may feel that we have a "hidden self"—a version of us that is bad, unworthy, or unlovable, and that must be kept a secret. This belief can lead to self-sabotage, isolation, and a cycle of self-punishment. Even if it is unclear what we are guilty of, even if we could recognise that rationally we might be the victims, the feeling is real and powerful. These guilt patterns often drive the compulsion to repeat harmful relationships and behaviours.
Where does this guilt come from?
Often, it has roots in childhood, formed when we internalised the expectations, criticisms, or neglect of those who helped shape us, consciously or unconsciously. A child who was only praised when they excelled might grow into an adult who feels worthless unless they are achieving. A child who was made to feel that they were responsible for a parent's happiness may grow into an adult who prioritises others at their own expense.
This kind of guilt is not just an emotion—it is a burden, a way of being. Often, it is inherited. Families, cultures, and histories pass down invisible expectations, unspoken shame, and unresolved pain. When we carry guilt that is not truly ours, it seeps into everything—our choices, our relationships, our sense of self-worth. We do not simply feel guilty; we become guilt-ridden, unable to separate who we are from our fear of what we have failed to be or of what our parents failed to be. On an individual level, this overwhelming state of guilt is mixed with anger and even rage. It is because we are trapped in a cycle of specific narratives that parts of us are constantly failing to be. We are split into different parts, torn between our wishes and our judgments. It becomes a mental prison, where we run from losses, only for them to repeat endlessly. It’s a constant striving toward an elusive goal, one that promises resolution but leaves us feeling empty and confused. Effective therapy practice addresses these complex emotional states that perpetuate repetition compulsion.
Examples of Repetition Compulsion: The Darkness of the Mind
There are parts of ourselves we don't want to face. Not because they are evil or dangerous, but because they are unknown. And the unknown is terrifying. Arguably, it is in the realm of the unknown lies our biggest fears. As children, we are very scared of the dark room and what might lie in the darkness.
We avoid, we distract, we push it away. But avoidance does not erase what lingers beneath the surface—it only gives it more power. Psychoanalysis is not about eliminating pain. It is about learning to sit with it, to acknowledge it, to recognise that self-acceptance is not about making suffering disappear but about integrating it into who we are. Avoiding the darkness within us is like living in fragments—constantly running from ourselves, never fully free. This approach forms the foundation of many therapy techniques used to address repetition compulsion.
The Longing for the Past and the Uncanny
Freud spoke of the uncanny as that eerie sense of familiarity within the unfamiliar—when something feels known and foreign at the same time. Like listening to your own voice and wondering "that doesn't sound like me." Or looking at an old photograph and feeling like you were staring at a stranger? These moments are unsettling because they challenge our assumption that we are one continuous, stable self. Instead, they reveal the fragmented nature of our identity—that we are always evolving, always changing, and yet, something within us remains familiar.
This sensation is not limited to external things; we experience it within ourselves. There are parts of us that feel foreign, emotions that arise seemingly without explanation, impulses that do not align with our conscious self-image. And perhaps most unsettling of all is the realisation that we are not always who we thought we were. These complex psychological experiences often drive the compulsion to repeat as we attempt to reconcile our fragmented identities.
This is not just a philosophical idea; it is a psychological experience. We long for the past, for the selves we once were, but that longing is complicated. The past is both comforting and unsettling, something we wish to return to but also realise that it is gone.
We think back to childhood and remember warmth, safety, and innocence—but if we look closer, we may also find helplessness, confusion, and wounds we did not understand at the time. The past is never simply 'good' or 'bad'—it is a mixture of both, a place that calls to us while also reminding us why we had to leave it behind.
We face our existential crises in many ways and at different times, if not constantly. We try to recreate and reconstruct narratives to sustain some meanings for our existence. But most of the time, those narratives are dispelled, and we have to move on and leave them behind. Sometimes we are all faced with this mundaneness of reality, the normal day-to-day life, the boredom. How exciting it all is when we first fall in love, then we slowly but also suddenly face the experience of it not being new anymore. The relationship is integrated into the normal, mundane day-to-day life. This is also a crisis that we can all relate to, the struggle between the past, what is gone, from the present. The constant stitching of meanings together to feel like a one whole self. Comprehensive therapy practice addresses these existential elements that contribute to repetition compulsion.
Conclusion
We often imagine healing as the end of suffering, a final destination of clarity and wholeness. But more often, it's a loop—a dance with our inner world, where parts of us repeat, resist, rage, or retreat. What we suppress resurfaces. What we defend against still shapes how we love, how we leave, and how we long.
To face the darkness within is not to extinguish it, but to give it form. Guilt, repetition compulsion, self-sabotage—these are not weaknesses, but messages from the psyche. They ask to be listened to, not silenced.
The therapeutic journey is not about arriving—it is about circling back with new awareness. About choosing to stay with ourselves, again and again, even when it's hard. And in this staying, we begin to find a more compassionate truth—not a fixed self, but a living, breathing story that is always unfolding. Through dedicated therapy practice and specialized therapy techniques, we can transform our relationship with the compulsion to repeat, finding new freedom in self-understanding.