CHAPTER 423: CHAPTER 416: WISHFUL THINKING IN PSYCHOLOGICAL CONSULTATION

The visitor said, "That person... isn’t important in themselves."

"If it was in private, I wouldn’t hold a grudge no matter how I conflicted with him. It’s not worth wasting time and thoughts on such a person."

"But because of the conflict with him, I ended up showing my bad side in front of others... I think it’s not worth it, very annoying."

As the visitor spoke, they began to nod quickly and repeatedly: "So I think about it from time to time."

Nan Zhubin glanced at the other’s expression; good, at least there was no pretense to cover it up here.

He secretly noted the visitor’s response and current reactions in his mind.

Next, Nan Zhubin intended to guide the conversation towards the crucial point once again.

"When did this ’public argument with someone that makes you very annoyed’ incident happen?"

The visitor thought for a moment, "It was quite recent."

Nan Zhubin didn’t speak but made a questioning eyebrow raise.

The visitor immediately added, "It started after I began experiencing insomnia and difficulty concentrating. Such incidents started to particularly concern me and occasionally resurface in my mind."

This was an interesting phrase—"such incidents."

Nan Zhubin felt a temptation to latch onto this keyword, but he suppressed it, because it was less important than what he was about to explore.

"You say you recall such incidents from time to time, so thinking about this particular incident, how does it appear to you?"

The visitor was stunned, repeating Nan Zhubin’s question, "How does it appear?"

Nan Zhubin anticipated the visitor might not fully understand the question and began explaining: "Earlier, during our conversation, I inferred that you recall things in the form of ’visual images’ in your head, right?"

The visitor confirmed, "Yes."

Nan Zhubin elaborated his question with examples, "So how do these images appear? For instance—is it something that pops up suddenly as you’re idly daydreaming, triggered by some keywords?"

"Or do you come across similar situations while doing something; or is it more like a ’triggered by similar scenes’ scenario?"

"Or do they just randomly resurface without any reason?"

Each of these scenarios hinted at some underlying issue.

The visitor pondered, "It’s a bit of everything... I think of it when I see related things, ’triggered by scenes’ can cause it, and occasionally it appears out of nowhere when I’m idle..."

Good, Nan Zhubin got the keywords he needed.

"Occasionally it appears out of nowhere?" Nan Zhubin questioned, repeating it verbatim.

The visitor nodded, then immediately shook their head, "No, no, it doesn’t just appear suddenly like that..."

"Can you describe how it appears out of nowhere in more detail?" Nan Zhubin ignored the visitor’s hesitation.

The visitor paused.

By then, their pace had fallen completely in line with Nan Zhubin’s guidance.

"It’s just... maybe when I’m in class, suddenly there’s an image flashing in my mind about some... events."

Saying this, the visitor swallowed.

Nan Zhubin probed further, "What kind of events?"

"Just... some events." The visitor began stammering.

Nan Zhubin cradled his chin with one hand, speaking in a long, drawn-out tone, "Let me guess... is it about that incident that happened five months ago?"

Nan Zhubin continued, "Was it after that incident that the ’public argument’ started troubling you?"

The visitor licked their lips, picked up the water cup on the table, and drank it all in one go.

Then they adjusted their hat, forming a thin layer of sweat near the hairline.

The visitor said, "Teacher, what I want is a way to improve sleep and concentration. How about I tell you another thing I’m thinking about? Saying it might help you understand my situation better."

Without waiting for Nan Zhubin’s response, the visitor seamlessly continued to link into the next recollection of memory.

"It was during a rainy day when I brought an umbrella. But as I was about to head back to the dorm, I saw two girls from our class standing in front of the teaching building watching the rain; I assumed they hadn’t brought umbrellas."

"I wanted to lend them my umbrella but was worried it might be too abrupt. Because there are more girls than boys at our school, I usually pay special attention to social etiquette, worried about being accused of not having a ’sense of boundaries,’ so this time I didn’t lend the umbrella."

"But, afterward, I regretted it, worried they might have gotten wet..."

Nan Zhubin listened quietly until there was an evident hesitation in the visitor’s speech toward the end, at which point he interrupted:

"Zhihao... can I call you that?"

The visitor froze and nodded.

Nan Zhubin said, "You’ve likely heard the expression ’treating the symptoms but not the root cause.’ In psychology, your insomnia and lack of concentration are the ’symptoms’; while the cause of these issues is the ’root cause.’

"I’m telling you this not because you’re unaware, but quite the contrary—I find you know it."

Nan Zhubin looked into Nan Zhihao’s eyes, initiating the strongest confrontation in today’s consultation.

"You clearly understand when you started experiencing changes and are very eager to find ways to solve your problems."

"However, there remains a doubt, or perhaps—wishful thinking, about the extent to which you need to go."

Nan Zhubin watched the visitor’s expression change bit by bit: "At first, you only mentioned physiological issues. When I asked you ’what you’re thinking,’ there was an image that appeared in your mind during the first moment, but it seems you suppressed them, racking your brain to come up with secondary things afterward—"

"Including your recent incidents of ’public arguments’ and ’regret not lending the umbrella.’"

"But I must tell you, addressing these two issues is only treating the symptoms. Intervening with these won’t fundamentally alleviate your real problems. Even if I taught you some meditation techniques, they wouldn’t be effective— in fact, I believe you’ve already tried them, haven’t you?"

Nan Zhubin glanced at the clock on the wall.

The time indicated that approximately forty-five minutes had passed.