This paper identifies and characterizes a commonplace but philosophically neglected aspect of human emotional experience, which I call emotional self-dissonance. I start from the position that emotional experiences generally involve taking things to matter in ways that reflect what we already care about. Building on this, I suggest that our various projects, pastimes, commitments, relationships, and habits together comprise an evaluative orientation through which we experience things emotionally. Although this orientation is for the most part cohesively organized, tensions within it are inevitable. I suggest that emotions of familiar kinds often incorporate a sense of these tensions. In addition, emotional self-dissonance can amount to a form of emotional experience in its own right, one that encompasses considerable variety.

This is the first bottom-up review of the lived experience of persons who attempt suicide. The study has been co-designed, co-conducted and co-written by experts by experience and academics, focusing on first-person narratives within and outside the medical field. The lived world of individuals who attempt suicide is characterized by experiences related to the attempt itself ("contemplating suicide as a deliberate death", "contemplating suicide as an escape route", "looking for online answers about suicide", "planning suicide", "finding rest between the suicidal decision and the final act", "changing one's mind during the suicide attempt", "acting on suicidal impulses"); experiences related to the self and time ("feeling unworthy", "feeling detached from oneself or the world and lacking a sense of agency", "splitting the self between the decision to live or die", "perceiving an abortive and doomed future"); and experience of emotions and the body ("feeling overwhelmed by hopelessness and despair", "feeling empty and drained of energy", "feeling alone"). The lived experience of individuals who attempt suicide is also described in terms of the social and cultural context, including the experience of others ("feeling that no one cares", "feeling like a burden to others", "facing others' difficulty in understanding"); cultural, gender and age differences ("experiencing geographical, cultural and religious taboos about suicide", "feeling inadequate in relation to gender stereotypes", "feeling abandoned in old age"); and the perception of stigma ("facing social stigma", "experiencing a stigmatized self", "silencing suicidal behaviors"). The lived experience of persons after an attempted suicide is characterized as a complex process of self-acceptance and rediscovery ("living with suicidal thoughts", "navigating the challenges of recovery", "gaining new perspectives during recovery", "restoring interpersonal relationships to recover"). Finally, the lived experience of individuals who attempt suicide is described with respect to their access to general health care ("seeking help before the suicide attempt", "feeling abandoned after a suicide attempt") and mental health care ("experiencing shame as a barrier to care", "fearing mental disorder label", "feeling accepted and listened to", "facing economic difficulties in accessing support", "coping with distress during hospitalization"). The experiences described in this paper hold educational and social value, informing medical and psychological practices and research, public health approaches, and promotion of social change. This research overcomes embarrassment, fear and stigma, and helps us to understand the fragile nature of our emotions and feelings, our immersion in the social world, and our sense of meaning in life.

Since Derrida’s introduction of the term hauntology, there has been much discussion of ghosts, spectres, and hauntings across several disciplines. This work is not exclusively phenomenological in focus. However, there are frequent indications that talk of haunting relates to distinctive forms of experience, which remain elusive and undertheorized. In this paper, I focus specifically on what it is to feel haunted by something and consider how such experiences might be integrated into a larger phenomenological perspective. I propose that feelings of being haunted are integral to the sense of self and also unavoidable. They are implied by the view that human experience is structured by dynamic, organized arrangements of possibilities, a view that has characterised the phenomenological tradition from the outset.

This is the first bottom-up review of the lived experience of postpartum depression and psychosis in women. The study has been co-designed, co-conducted and co-written by experts by experience and academics, drawing on first-person accounts within and outside the medical field. The material initially identified was shared with all participants in a cloud-based system, discussed across the research team, and enriched by phenomenological insights. The subjective world of postpartum depression is characterized by a sudden onset ("being hit with a ton of bricks"), unbearable loneliness and sadness that are often suffered in silence, inability to feel positive emotions, grieving over the loss of self, feelings of being bad mothers (haunted by a suffocating burden of guilt due to that), inability to concentrate, lack of control of thoughts ("feeling like a tightrope walker without control over thoughts and emotions"), insecurity (up to needing to be nurtured and mothered themselves), and thoughts of death ("contemplating death as a glimmer of hope to escape the living nightmare"). In addition to these themes, the subjective world of postpartum psychosis is characterized by difficulty in articulating thoughts ("feeling the brain in a centrifuge"); perceptual abnormalities and unusual beliefs disrupting the sense of personal unity (with, in a few cases, thoughts of harming themselves or their baby, so that women may feel that they are "sinking in the depths of hell"); losing trust ("ploughing through the fog and losing trust and safety"), and stripping down relationships. Much of the isolation, guilt and disorientation experienced in these conditions relates to sociocultural and family environments, especially a gulf between how women feel and a web of norms and expectations surrounding motherhood. In most cases, stigma is related to a lack of knowledge of what postpartum depression or psychosis are. Stigma and lack of knowledge are core drivers impacting health care in terms of seeking professional help, accessing mental health services, and receiving pharmacological or psychological treatments. The narratives described in this paper should inform clinical practice, research and public health education. This study brings voice to the unspoken and unheard, and fosters relational connections within which different mothering experiences may be expressed and understood. This is vital to challenging negative sociocultural attitudes towards postpartum depression and psychosis, and providing the most supportive care to women experiencing such pervasive psychiatric disorders at a critical, fragile time in their lives.

Descriptions of feeling haunted in an emotional way are widespread. It is doubtful that the relevant experiences are reducible to any combination of established emotion categories, such as regret, remorse, or guilt. Nevertheless, what it is to feel haunted has been neglected by philosophers of emotion and by emotion theorists more generally. In this paper, I focus more specifically on what it is to feel haunted by loss. Here, I suggest, talk of haunting spans a range of experiences. However, the majority of these share a common phenomenological structure. Being haunted by loss involves continuing to experience certain possibilities as foreclosed, in a way that is inextricable from how we experience our current situation and orient ourselves towards the future. This unsettles and undermines us.

Philosophers and cognitive scientists frequently construe emotional experience in terms of discrete episodes or states that can be individuated, enumerated, and assigned to different types. In this paper, I address (a) the source and status of this broad conception of the emotions, and (b) the extent to which it succeeds in accommodating the structure and variety of human emotional experiences. I argue that the emotions are a selective abstraction from the much richer phenomenology of emotional life. This abstraction originates neither in an everyday, commonsense picture of emotion nor in emotion theory. Instead, it is a chimerical hybrid of the two, which risks eclipsing the complexity, diversity, and nuances of human emotional life. I conclude by sketching a philosophical perspective that emphasizes the dynamic, temporally extended structure of emotional experience more so than individuation, enumeration, and classification.

This chapter develops a perspective on the phenomenology of freedom, emphasizing its dependence on a sense of relational possibilities involving other people. I draw upon and integrate themes in the works of three philosophers: Jean-Paul Sartre; Simone de Beauvoir; and Knud Ejler Løgstrup. In so doing, I propose that the experience of oneself as a free agent is not primarily a matter of how certain activities and thoughts are experienced—those that involve an elusive feeling or quale of choice or effort. Instead, it consists in a multi-faceted sense of the possible, which is inseparable from the overall structure of human experience and amenable to further analysis. Integral to it are a number of interrelated ways in which one's own possibilities relate to the possibilities of others; I can be my possibilities only insofar as you are yours and we are ours. In particular, I suggest that the experience of freedom presupposes a basic form of interpersonal trust.

This paper develops a phenomenological account of what it is to lose a primitive and pervasive sense of certainty. I begin by considering Wolfgang Blankenburg’s descriptions of losing common sense or natural self-evidence. Although Blankenburg focuses primarily on schizophrenia, I note that a wider range of phenomenological disturbances can be understood in similar terms—one loses something that previously operated as a pre-reflective, unquestioned basis for experience, thought, and practice. I refer to this as the loss of certainty. Drawing upon and integrating themes in the work of Wittgenstein and Husserl, I propose that losses of certainty centrally involve the inability to tolerate a certain kind of uncertainty. The contrast between having and lacking certainty is to be construed in terms of differing patterns or styles of nonlocalized, practical, bodily anticipation. I conclude by showing how this conception enables us to better understand various different disturbances to which human experience is susceptible.

In their chapter, 'The Collective Disorientation of the Covid-19 Crisis', Fernández Velasco, Perroy and Casati (2021) reflect on the 'multifarious state of disorientation' that many of us have found ourselves in during the pandemic. They provide a rich and insightful account, which ties together complementary strands of research in various disciplines. In particular, they do an excellent job of bringing phenomenology into dialogue with relevant findings in the cognitive sciences. The term 'disorientation' can be used to describe a range of experiences, arising in contexts that include illness, bereavement and loss, political change, and migration. What might these experiences have in common? For instance, how does feeling spatially disoriented in unfamiliar surroundings resemble disorientation in the face of political upheaval? In an earlier study of disorientation, Harbin (2016: 13-17) settles for family resemblance between the various forms of disorientation. Instead, Fernández Velasco, Perroy and Casati seek to identify a feature shared by all. Disorientations, they propose, involve a feeling stemming from the 'evaluation and regulation of processes integrating frames of reference pertaining to a variety of domains'. I have some sympathy with this overall approach and accept that all disorientations may well share something in common. However, in what follows, I want to draw a distinction between two importantly different types of disorientation (both of which accommodate considerable variety). This will involve further reflecting on the interpersonal and social dimensions of disorientation. In finding our way around different 'domains', from the spatial to the political, we do not rely exclusively on internalised frames of reference.

This paper sets out a phenomenological account of what it is to feel unable to continue as oneself. I distinguish the feeling that a particular identity has become unsustainable from a sense that the world has ceased to offer the kinds of possibilities required to sustain any such identity. In feeling unable to continue as oneself, possibilities may remain for carrying on in practically meaningful ways but not as who one is or was. I reflect on the kinds of self and feeling involved in such experiences, emphasizing the essential openness of self-experience to transformative possibilities and the dynamic structure of feeling. To illustrate and further develop my approach, I turn to experiences of grief.

This paper sets out a phenomenological account of how the autobiographical past can, on occasion, assume certain future-like qualities. I begin by reflecting on the analogy of a bore wave, as employed in a novel by Julian Barnes. Building on this, I turn to Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre in order to address how our memories are revised in light of our current concerns and vice versa. Then, by adapting Edmund Husserl’s conception of temporal “protention,” I show how acts of remembering are integral to a process of ongoing reconciliation between our current orientation towards the future and the autobiographical past. They sustain, disrupt, and reconsolidate a non-localized, dynamic sense of who we are, in ways that are inseparable from how we experience time.

This paper explores the limitations of neurobiological approaches to human emotional experience, focusing on the case of grief. We propose that grief is neither an episodic emotion nor a longer-term mood but instead a heterogeneous, temporally extended process. A grief process can incorporate all manner of experiences, thoughts, and activities, most or all of which are not grief-specific. Furthermore, its course over time is shaped in various different ways by interpersonal, social, and cultural environments. This poses methodological challenges for any attempt to relate grief to the brain. Grief also illustrates wider limitations of approaches that conceive of emotions as brief episodes, abstracted from the dynamic, holistic, longer-term organization of human emotional life.

Grief is often thought of as an emotional response to the death of someone we love. However, the term “grief” is also used when referring to losses of various other kinds, as with grief over illness, injury, unemployment, diminished abilities, relationship breakups, or loss of significant personal possessions. Complementing such uses, we propose that grief over a bereavement and other experiences of loss share a common phenomenological structure: one experiences the loss of certain possibilities that were integral to—and perhaps central to—the unfolding structure of one’s life. Grief can thus be conceived of in a broad but still univocal way. To develop this position, we focus on the example of grief over involuntary childlessness, where lack of a concrete, historical object of emotion serves to make explicit the way in which grief concerns future possibilities. We go on to suggest that the phenomenological complexity, diversity, and prevalence of grief are obscured when approached via an abstract, simplified conception of bereavement.

Feeling lonely, being a lonely person, and living through lonely times can all be construed in terms of the emotional experiences of individuals. However, we also speak of lonely places. Sometimes, a place strikes us as lonely even when we do not feel lonely ourselves. On other occasions, finding a place lonely also involves feeling lonely, isolated, and lost. In this paper, I reflect on the phenomenological structure of loneliness by addressing what it is to experience a place as lonely. I suggest that approaching loneliness in this way can help us to see how it involves not merely the lack or absence of something but, more specifically, the sense of being unable to access social and personal possibilities that may still appear accessible to others.

This article provides an introduction to the special issue "Emotions of the Pandemic: Phenomenological Perspectives". We begin by outlining how phenomenological research can illuminate various forms of emotional experience associated with the exceptional circumstances of the COVID-19 pandemic. In addition, we propose that a consideration of pandemic experience, in all its complexity and diversity, has the potential to yield wider-ranging phenomenological insights. We go on to discuss the thirteen contributions that follow, identifying common themes and points of complementarity.

A wide-ranging philosophical exploration of what it is to experience grief and what this tells us about human emotional life. Experiences of grief can be bewildering, disorienting, and isolating; everything seems somehow different, in ways that are difficult to comprehend and describe. Why does the world as a whole look distant, strange, and unfamiliar? How can we know that someone is dead, while at the same time find this utterly unfathomable, impossible? Grief Worlds explores a host of philosophical questions raised by grief, showing how philosophical inquiry can enhance our understanding of grief and vice versa. Throughout the book, Matthew Ratcliffe focuses on the phenomenology of grief: what do experiences of grief consist of, how are they structured, and what can they tell us about the nature of human experience more generally? While acknowledging the diversity of grief, Ratcliffe sets out to identify its common features. Drawing extensively on first-person accounts, he proposes that grief is a process that involves experiencing, comprehending, and navigating a pervasive disturbance of one's experiential world. Its course over time depends on ways of experiencing and relating to other people, both the living and the dead. Along with its insights into the workings of grief, the book provides us with a broader philosophical perspective for thinking about human emotional experience.

This paper addresses the relationships between hope and trust. I suggest that different kinds of hope and trust relate to one another in different ways, which I conceive of in dynamic terms. I propose that the movement of hope and trust has a unifying context: the changing structure of a human life and its dependence on other people. I further argue that the most fundamental forms of hope and trust are inextricable. Together, they comprise a diffuse way of anticipating things in general, which could equally be described in terms of “faith.” This sustains a life structure upon which more specific forms of hope and trust depend.

We provide here the first bottom‐up review of the lived experience of depression, co‐written by experts by experience and academics. First‐person accounts within and outside the medical field were screened and discussed in collaborative workshops involving numerous individuals with lived experience of depression, family members and carers, representing a global network of organizations. The material was enriched by phenomenologically informed perspectives and shared with all collaborators in a cloud‐based system. The subjective world of depression was characterized by an altered experience of emotions and body (feeling overwhelmed by negative emotions, unable to experience positive emotions, stuck in a heavy aching body drained of energy, detached from the mind, the body and the world); an altered experience of the self (losing sense of purpose and existential hope, mismatch between the past and the depressed self, feeling painfully incarcerated, losing control over one's thoughts, losing the capacity to act on the world; feeling numb, empty, non‐existent, dead, and dreaming of death as a possible escape route); and an altered experience of time (experiencing an alteration of vital biorhythms, an overwhelming past, a stagnation of the present, and the impossibility of the future). The experience of depression in the social and cultural context was characterized by altered interpersonal experiences (struggling with communication, feeling loneliness and estrangement, perceiving stigma and stereotypes), and varied across different cultures, ethnic or racial minorities, and genders. The subjective perception of recovery varied (feeling contrasting attitudes towards recovery, recognizing recovery as a journey, recognizing one's vulnerability and the need for professional help), as did the experience of receiving pharmacotherapy, psychotherapy, and social as well as physical health interventions. These findings can inform clinical practice, research and education. This journey in the lived experience of depression can also help us to understand the nature of our own emotions and feelings, what is to believe in something, what is to hope, and what is to be a living human being.