Freud’s Three Types Of Anxiety and My Personal Experience

The Experience

Finally, after days of persuasion, Sam came to work with me. Sitting alone and reading can get old pretty fast. A best friend of three years is hardly ever bad company. She just started getting down the quarks of Swan Cleaners: learning cash register, how to tag clothes, and various mundane activities such as these. Sam’s third day on the job: “Pay attention! Open the drawer, hand me the money, and no one gets hurt.”
Working in Dublin, Ohio, off a main road in the middle of suburbia, is the last place you should expect to have a robbery. Sam and I had come into work and were hanging out reading the paper and playing game boy. As we were sitting in the back, we noticed a man walk by several times, each time starring right at us. The man appeared to be lost and distraught. Finally, he stepped into the store and I approached the cash register preparing for an order.
“Pay attention! Open the drawer, hand me the money, and no one gets hurt.” He proceeded with shaking his pocket and reiterating his worRAB. “Sam-” he cut me off replying, “No, don’t talk to your friend, give me the money.” WorRAB started vibrating, my every moved seemed in slow motion. “Here,” I managed to say. I handed over the whopping twenty dollars Swan Cleaners had made during the course of the day. Without counting it he ran out the door. With Sam at my side, we had realized what had happened, we’d been robbed; in broad daylight, by an old freaky man, on Sam’s third day. Instinct came over me; I chased the man outside and around the corner, to the rear parking lot. “AZZ9605, you’re fucked!” His eyes met mine with intensity as he threw himself in his car. My rational side soon caught up with my thoughts. Darting back into the store I called 9-1-1.
Four minutes had passed, shaking together by the phone, going over what had just happened, Sam and I awaited the police arrival. Sirens blare as three cops pull into the lot, followed by a motorcycle cop. As the questions were asked and answered, fingerprint dusting was taking place. I informed the cop that this was unnecessary. I proceeded with stating; he was about seventy, white hair, black tie, white button up shirt with sleeves rolled, black pants, a green Toyota Camry, and a license plate that read: AZZ9605. I then explained my psycho-speratic actions. The police were left in awe, but, quickly let out a bulletin and dispatched police cruisers to hunt him down.
One hour later he was found, Richard Mills. In order for the to take him away he needed to be identified. We were then instructed to close the cleaners and go with the officer to his home, where they found him. We pulled into the driveway, noticing the accused, standing handcuffed and beady eyed, about ten feet from us. “That’s him,” we said in unison. It turns out, he had drove home and removed his license plates, hiding them in his garage. They took him away in the paddy wagon, and Sam and I to police headquarters, to fill out reports and so on.
The day after was just the same thing; working, taking orders and helping customers. Richard was out on bail awaiting his trial at home, or so we thought. A cop car pulls into the lot at our work, and a smile walks through the door, “We caught him at the airport leaving, the moron bought two tickets to Russia under his own name. There is more, he admitted to a string of eight other robberies on Sawmill Road, he’ll be in jail for awhile, good job girls.” It was movie-esque; the robbery, the escape, and the conviction… it couldn’t have gone any smoother.
Needless to say, this was an experience never forgotten. Sam and I quit and found jobs elsewhere, Richard has a good job at the workhouse, and Swan Cleaners is still in business. Although, this only affected a few people, it will be with us forever.

The Diagnosis: Freud’s Three Types Of Anxiety

Using this experience as the basis of my journal assignment, I have searched many of theories, until I came upon Freud’s explanation of three types of anxiety. The types couldn’t have fit my experience any better. Following is the definition and an example of the correlation to the theory and my experience.
First, realistic anxiety- your basic fear. I suffered very little fear in this situation. The initial felling of being overpowered and at someone else’s command was quite intense, aside from that my fear was minimal.
Second, Freud theorized an anxiety he named, moral anxiety. Moral anxiety comes from the internal social world; feeling shame, guilt and fear of punishment. This anxiety affected me the most. I felt, at that time, chasing him, calling the police, and getting him arrested, was the right thing to do. I have sat down and thought about how what I did was socially acceptable, but it wasn’t what I felt was right. I slowly became and still am disgusted with myself. I had conformed to societies standarRAB of what is right. Inside I was furious, it had been taken so far that anything I wanted to do at this point, was irrelevant. The changes were already there. It would have been different if he had had a gun, or had intended to hurt us. I am still second guessing and playing the situation over in my head.
Lastly, neurotic anxiety- the overwhelming impulses from the id; the loss of control. I still laugh when I remeraber what I did. It was total impulse. Without thinking I chased him out to his car, read him his license plate, and then cursed at him. Every thought of danger had escaped my mind and covering my territory and taking care of myself solely drove me. I never would have expected myself to do something like this; it makes me wonder about what might happen next time I am faced with a situation like this. Hopefully- I never will be again.