There are no psychological-recesses of the mind:
at best you might speak of: specieslogical-recesses,
civilizational-recesses, even: life-recesses,
but courtesy of a self sired illusion which normally engulfs
the conscious part of man’s brain  --
one held together by a combination of memories and disregard of sequence,
he feels(as strange as it is)  --  in his physically, non sentient brain  -
a sense of there being a substantial unseen entity within him –
one that is deep, wide, astoundingly complex –
which has seeped into all of the untold folds, nooks, crannies, and recesses of his brain-come-mind, (in short) Him, (Me, from each man’s own inner perspective).
The unanalyzed, unaccounted for outcome of this is men professing to feel a depth to this mental generated self (the sense of one’s own being taken most seriously by
the most civilized and intellectualized)  –  a depth that plainly and literally is not there.
 
 

The verbal symbols issuing from this invisible, intangible self
tell an entirely different story;
no normal man on this planet has a brain in his head which can acknowledge
the vaporous nature of this thing being talked about  --  when it is talked about to him, and the thing in him apparently attempts to think about it; to weigh the idea;
to consider the possibilities, to ponder its potential validity  --
every brain’s response is predetermined.
When an ordinary brain tries to look at the image it has created and which floats, unanchored, and uncontrollably throughout its areas of consciousness,
instead of realizing that it is looking at a private insubstantial hologram,
it is made to believe it perceives Mount Rushmore.
 
 

Nothing amiss here that any mortal can tell (indeed [everything else staying the same],
if ordinary men could  be made to realize the actual vaporousness of
what they constantly, for a life time, unthinking take and feel to be their self,
the only perceivable result would be their derangement),
but the situation does give rise to additional quixoticisms which press down directly on a certain man’s efforts to see, sans trompe l’oeil
(oeil here present in both its ocular and pronominal senses), to wit:
his search within his mind for the reasons his mind is as it is (viz):
he is given to believe that there are psychological recesses in his consciousness,
an error which, in time, energy and enthusiasm, costs him dearly  --
and obviously, needlessly  --   or why else up, would the subject here be brought.
 

As natural to the thought part of man’s brain as breathing and partyin’ off dopamines is the sense that the thing in the brain (one’s self) that is doing the thinking (apparently)
is something of permanent, substantial construction,
and with a four dimensional reality to match the one in which it exists,
but a certain man with that special off-the-books neural potential
has to do no more than learn how to mentally become aware of
what goes on in him mentally to see quite clearly the complete error of this, couldn’t-be-more-normal, human sensation.
What goes on continually in the standard operating brain is the constant showing of a series of snapshots of an office complex which is taken to be the structure itself –
put in such terms  –  all of this can sound totally preposterous to any rational brain  --   which is demonstratively how it is supposed to sound;
if you could get the thing in an ordinary brain in an ordinary man that he takes to be
his self,  to ask itself: “Is there anything substantial to me?  --
anything other than what is asking and thinking about this at this very instant?”  --   as lacking in evidence, and as flimsy as the response seems,
the thing-of-self in a normal man’s brain has no choice but to say: “Yes  --
certainly there is more --  much more to me than what is present, active,
and involved at this mere moment”  --   this is clearly not true, and yet generally,

Every human, by dint of being conscious and experiencing thought,
wants to understand why they are as they are and to explain same to others,
and to do this they (what else): look to their minds; more specifically:
they look to the memories of their lives stored in their minds;
“Somewhere in the hidden, psychological-recesses of my mind
are memories of suppressed or forgotten events I experienced
which will explain why I am as I am today” –
and from any reasonable, four dimensional, mental view  --
what more obvious course is there to pursue?!
“The thoughts I now have about me and other people are surely the result of
what I thought about things which happened to me in the past;
thus the answers I seek which will explain and free me from
the unprofitable thoughts which now afflict me

No magician has ever staged an illusion comparable;
individual frames from a movie being flashed on a screen in the cortex --  one at a time, but when watched by themselves in the same disconnected, sequential state,
the illusion inherent in motion pictures
produces the inner-eye sensation of substantiality --   “My god Mr. Edison!  --
those flashing images on the wall look exactly like real people
doing real things in real life!   It is amazing!”  --
but even more so when you one day suddenly realize that such is the very nature of the quite seemingly real you that peoples the film in your consciousness
which life continually projects  --
but there is nothing there save the single image, thought, sound
present at this moment only;
there is no back-up to that you;
it is like the false front of a town on a movie set;
from the front, outside  --  it sure looks like a saloon,
but walk through the swinging doors, and there is nothing behind the façade --
that is the physiological reality of what occurs in the consciousness of
an ordinary man’s brain which it, (and perforce, subsequently) --  he takes to be
the consciousness-reality of who and what he is;
but it is only whatever the instant, endless, entirely sequential electro-chemical activity in his brain is, and (directed by his genetic schematics)