Who would study psychology unless they had some issues?!

"What kind of thoughts are they?"

"Thoughts..." Jie Nianzhou paused again, as if gathering strength, or probing, "Many... harmful to others."

As he spoke the last few words, Jie Nianzhou kept his eyes fixed on Nan Zhubin’s face.

Nan Zhubin’s expression remained unchanged: "Could you elaborate on how these thoughts harm others?"

This reaction made Jie Nianzhou’s account more fluent.

"For example, once I went hiking." Jie Nianzhou continued, "When I was standing at a height, there was a moment when I suddenly had the thought of pushing the person in front of me down."

Jie Nianzhou took a deep breath.

"Sometimes, when I’m by the water or walking on a bridge, I have these thoughts. I know I won’t act on them, but the thoughts just appear."

"Originally... these should’ve been nothing."

This sentence would be followed by a turning point.

Nan Zhubin observed Jie Nianzhou’s expression, noticing his breathing becoming rapid.

"But... about a year ago, I went hiking again and had the thought of pushing someone. That time, the thought was so strong it scared even me. Later, my friends who hiked with me took the cable car down, while I walked down the trail alone. I was terrified, afraid of myself, and even more afraid of hurting others."

Nan Zhubin didn’t speak, just nodded, indicating he was listening.

"But... a few days later, I stumbled on a news story while browsing my phone. An accident happened on the mountain I climbed, someone... died."

Jie Nianzhou looked at Nan Zhubin: "The time of death was the day I descended."

...

If it were a young consultant, they might have been startled by the atmosphere in the consultation room.

However, Nan Zhubin’s gaze remained calm.

The visitor being able to sit here clearly isn’t an exception to confidentiality.

"How do you feel about this?" Nan Zhubin asked calmly.

Jie Nianzhou swallowed hard: "The news report... confirmed it was an accidental fall, but I’m terrified... after all, it’s too coincidental."

"On that particular day, at that moment my thoughts were strongest, and when I separated from the group to go down the trail alone."

"I wondered if I might have done something, forgotten about it, possibly some kind of split personality, creating another version of me who harms others."

"Then for a long time afterward, I was constantly uneasy, spending a lot of time each day retracing and rechecking, making sure I didn’t do anything."

"I don’t want to think about it, but those thoughts keep reappearing in my mind."

As he said this, Jie Nianzhou’s face almost twisted, as if reliving those feelings.

[Eyebrows furrowed, nose tightly wrinkled.]

[Grinding teeth, throat swallowing.]

Nan Zhubin also caught onto a critical point.

"You said you don’t want to think about it, but those thoughts keep reappearing," Nan Zhubin asked, "What are they like when they appear?"

"It’s like... repeated checking, replaying scenes from the day in my mind. When I walked past a place, where my hand was, whether my body leaned, if anyone was beside me."

"When do those thoughts appear?" Nan Zhubin asked.

"Anytime, during work, studying, resting," Jie Nianzhou emphasized, "I can’t control them."

Nan Zhubin nodded slightly, making a mental note, then asked, "Do you feel at ease after rechecking?"

"No, I’m always worried I might’ve overlooked something."

Jie Nianzhou took a deep breath: "So, I later started keeping a journal."

Nan Zhubin leaned forward slightly, showing curiosity.

He emphasized a word in Jie Nianzhou’s narration: "’Keeping’ a journal?"

"It’s recording," Jie Nianzhou explained, "Every day I go out, I turn on the recording mode on my phone, then review it at night to check if I did anything wrong, ensuring the people around me are safe and no one had an accident because of me."

This made Nan Zhubin raise an eyebrow.

Replaying a whole day’s recording every night is quite a workload.

Considering the visitor’s living environment, it’s quite a burden.

Nan Zhubin couldn’t help but say, "It sounds exhausting, time-consuming."

Jie Nianzhou nodded heavily, venting, "Yes, my studies alone are very busy every day, work is also tiring, and doing this at night... I basically have to stay up late, sometimes all night."

"It was fine at the start; listening to the recordings gave me peace of mind. But over time, when I realized my life was being disrupted by this behavior, I didn’t want to keep the journal anymore."

Nan Zhubin caught another key word: "Didn’t want to?"

"Yes, didn’t want to." Nan Zhubin’s attention was just right, Jie Nianzhou nodded again, "But I can’t help but do it."

"If I don’t record during the day, I’ll always worry and be afraid, feeling anxious unless I record to calm down slightly."

"Sometimes I don’t even notice when I start recording."

"And at night, if I don’t review the journal, I can’t sleep well. Even if I take sleeping pills, I’m not at peace the next day, I must lock myself in the room to review."

By this point, Jie Nianzhou was already breathing heavily, and his speech pace was quickening.

"I... I just can’t control myself from doing this."

...

Nan Zhubin nodded.

From the visitor’s performance, what he just described clearly caused him great distress and was something urgently needing resolution.

But this was the first interview; information collection wasn’t adequate enough, and no intervention could be recklessly applied.

Moreover, this distressing experience was just an external manifestation; his deeper issues had yet to surface.

More information was needed to cross-verify.

Nan Zhubin watched as the visitor gradually calmed his breathing, stopped speaking, and looked at him expectantly, seemingly hoping for some comment.

Nan Zhubin, however, began another topic.

"According to your registration information, you’re pursuing a doctorate, right?"

The visitor was startled, then nodded: "Yes. Beidu Normal University, Developmental Psychology, Year Two PhD."

"In that case, we’re somewhat in the same field." Nan Zhubin smiled, "But I noticed when you came in earlier, you seemed a bit awkward?"

Jie Nianzhou lowered his gaze, quickly tugged at his mouth: "Yes, it’s probably because I have only a shallow understanding... which makes me a bit at a loss with psychological consultations."

Nan Zhubin nodded, not speaking.

Jie Nianzhou continued: "What I study... it leans more toward fundamental research, otherwise, I wouldn’t be pursuing a doctorate. Initially, I had some confidence in myself, thinking I could guide myself."

"I even learned some things related to psychological consultation—typically, my studies don’t cover this area."

At this point, Jie Nianzhou gave a bitter laugh: "The result... was obviously not great."

After all, he was sitting here, facing a Psychological Consultant at the mental health center.

Nan Zhubin asked: "It sounds like you’ve analyzed and tried to heal yourself. So what do you think is happening to you now?"

Jie Nianzhou slightly furrowed his brow, not taking long to think, clearly having already considered.

"I think... I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Both obsessive thoughts and obsessive behaviors."

"The triggering situations... are any scenarios where I might pose a threat to others. Besides that..." The visitor hesitated, "There’s also matters related to... authority figures."

"Authority figures?" Nan Zhubin grabbed onto the phrase.

This was the benefit of changing topics, extracting new information.

"Yes, authority figures."

"Specifically... it’s mainly my mentor," Jie Nianzhou said, "my previous mentor."