Autopsy of a Mind

Chapter 99: Confirmation Bias



Chapter 99: Confirmation Bias

"But that is not the point. Is it?" He tilted his head in amusement. 

"Then what is the point?" I asked, bewildered. The words he was saying weren't making much sense at that moment, and I had to ruminate over them for a long time before I could fully grasp them. 

"He can't like you, right?" He stated. I scrunched my brow. It made sense. 

"It's not logical for him to like me," I stated in agreement. Dr. Knight stifled his smile and appeared serious. "What? Impart your knowledge on me."

"You're a very logical person, aren't you?"

"I would like to think so," I hesitated to answer. 

"But what if what you are calling logic is based on statements and 'facts' that can't be proven. Or worse, you are falling back on patterns and histories to draw conclusions." 

"But that is the basis of finding meaning in things," I argued, lightly. 

"Not when you are prejudiced. Do you know what that is called?"

"Confirmation bias," I grumbled. "What I have confirmation bias? What I am biased against?" 

He looked at me incredulously. "You're an exceptionally intelligent girl, do I need to tell you? Who do you hate most on the planet, Evie?" Well, that was an odd question. I had never 'hated' anyone. I strongly disliked them, I felt disgusted towards them, but I didn't hate anyone. 

"I don't think I have ever hated anyone," I murmured. He nodded. 

"Let me change my question, then. Who do you like the least on this planet?" He asked. 

"Well, logically, if I add up the competitors that pertain to the present conversation, I suppose it would be me." I sighed. "I get it. I am biased against me. But I wonder if someone as fucked up as me can afford to be in a relationship with someone." I looked up at the ceiling. 

"Why not?" he prompted. 

"It won't work out. My habits, my personality... I am meant to live alone, I have come to accept that. It is difficult for people to accept what happened to me or how that changed me. People call me reckless or stupid for not fearing anything, but that is how I am. I enjoy the freedom of life, I wish to live to the fullest without any constraints and I am not scared of much because I have already been on the brink of death. The pain I felt can't be trumped."

"But what if someone fully embraced your difficult personality. Would you give them a chance?" Now, that was a question worth thinking about. If it were someone else, they would have taken long to answer, but I knew what this meant. 

"No," I replied promptly. 

"Why is that?" he pressed gently. 

"A number of things," I admitted. "I don't want to be bogged down by a relationship and feel powerless," I started slowly. "I don't want to see someone suffer because of my personality."

Dr. Knight scooted his revolving chair and placed himself beside me. 

"What I heard was you feeling powerless because you don't think you can protect them from what you think is chasing you. You are distancing yourself from others because you constantly think something bad will happen to them if they get close to you. Yes, you don't want them to suffer because of you. But it is not just your personality." He pressed his hand on my knee. It did not feel comfortable. I flinched and tightened my fist.

"Then what?" I asked. 

"Evie, what happens when I touch you?" he asked. The words sounded wrong at first but I recovered and understood his meaning. 

"I don't like people touching me," I admitted. "But it is not bad." Lie. 

"Why do you not like being touched?" He made no sign that he was going to reveal my lie. 

"Everyone has their preferences. I just don't like contact," I shrugged. 

"So, if I touched you like this, you won't avoid me, right?" He placed another hand on my knee. I flinched but held ground. "You've been honest with me so far, Evie. Don't start lying to me now," he said firmly.

It was the first time I had heard him this serious. 

"I trust you, therefore I will not pull away. But I am not particularly happy with this situation," I grumbled. 

Dr. Knight removed his hand and leaned back against the chair. "There you go. That's all I needed to know." He smiled in approval and encouragement. "I saw you avoiding contact with every person in the waiting room. The space in the corridor was small, but you still managed to stick to the wall to avoid contact."

"Nothing misses your eye, does it?" I chuckled. 

"Then? Why do you dislike being touched? Explain your thought to me. Imagine, someone you don't know touching you. What thoughts pass your head?"

I paused and thought back to the occasions where someone had tried to hug me or touched me by accident. "A fear of pain. I fear that their touch will be malicious. I am sure it has something to do with my hypervigilance. When I settle in a crowded room, everyone seems threatening. I am constantly thinking about escaping the space. Moreover, the fear that they are out to hurt me makes me hate their touch." 

My thoughts assimilated. 

"Good. Then, you know. Anything else?" he asked. I shook my head, unable to think of anything else. "Then I will explain it to you. First, you suffer from magical thinking. Magical thinking is when you assign a set event to take place if you do something. Like some people eat the same food over and over again to bring themselves luck before an exam or big life event. Similarly, you believe that if you get close to someone, they will die. Much like a curse. Maybe you think you will be the one to hurt them or someone will hurt them because of your association, but it is an irrational fear that you hold in your heart." He paused, looking at me for consent to proceed. 

I nodded. 

"Second, you fear intimacy. The touch from another human equates to them inflicting pain on you in your mind. Therefore, you are afraid. A relationship makes you open and vulnerable to another person. When you are even scared of a harmless stranger, imagine being completely vulnerable in front of a person who can do anything they want to you in your most private moment." My eyes widened. 

"Third, you hate yourself. You think of yourself as a monster. We have already covered this so I will focus on the first two and get to this. We will get you through this."

I nodded. "Dr. Knight, I am not sure if you are trying to help or scare me away from relationships at this point." I gave him a small smile. 

"I am laying out your own fears in front of you. What you make of them is up to you. However, it is my job to make you see that there is another way of thinking." He grinned like a Cheshire cat. "To get over magical thinking, jump into it. Get close to someone and see if they get hurt. If your brain sees small incidents that are pure coincidences as proof for your magical thinking, stop yourself. Think about it from a scientific perspective. Use math if you will." 

I chuckled. "Understood. So, jump into making a connection to a fellow human." That was certainly one hard homework. 

"If it were someone else, they would think I was telling them to jump into a relationship or something. Glad to know you are not like the other monkeys," he joked. I pointed towards the file with mirth. "Yes, you already proved yourself."

"Thank you," I chirped. 

"As for your fear of intimacy. Desensitization is the best way. Again, you need to jump into it and see. Does the touch of another person really hurt? Start with someone you trust and then slowly expand it. When was the last time you hugged someone on your own accord?" he asked. 

"Not since Alicia took me," I reported. 

"Okay, try to start with a handshake. I don't want you overwhelmed." He gave me a piercing look. "And three. Evie, you are not a monster. I can tell you this." 

"How do you know?" this made my stomach tighten with panic. "I thought about hurting people." I grimaced. 

"Tell me the situation," he prompted. 

"We were tracking down a serial killer and when I entered his house, I felt rage. I couldn't contain it. I could see he wanted to kill himself but he didn't have the right to. He had hurt so many people. I actually ran after him and caught him. As I held him down, I had the urge to just end him." I gasped. 

It was not one of my finest moments. 

"Well, did you hurt him?" he asked. 

"No. I held him down and snapped out of it. The police cuffed him and took him away but I was so horrified by my thoughts that I couldn't control my body."

Dr. Knight slapped his hand on the table. "You did not act on your thoughts. That is what separates you from a murderer. Even if you had the thought, it was so horrifying to you that you couldn't believe it. You are not a psychopath like you believe, Evie. If you were one you wouldn't feel this guilt. You would never pin yourself as a murderer or think it was wrong. I have met such individuals and let me tell you, you are nothing like them."

I gaped at him. "But aren't psychopaths and sociopaths charming and manipulative?" Dr. Knight nodded. "Then how do you tell if they are lying or not?"

"Experience, Evie," he stated. "Just like you are good at your job because of your experience, I am good at mine because I have relevant experience."

"So, if someone tried to dupe you into believing they were insane to get out of trouble, you would find them?" I asked. He nodded. 

"But that doesn't mean they are mentally fine. If they are lying and manipulating to get out of trouble or mimicking a disease, they have other mental conditions that need to be addressed." He winked. 

"So," I looked up at the watch and said. "Our time seems to be up." Dr. Knight nodded. 

"What do you think your homework is?" Dr. Knight asked. 

"Break the pattern of my thoughts and write them down. The ones that come to me repetitively need to be addressed. I also need to venture into facing my fears." He nodded. 

"Also, about Sebastian. What are you going to do?" I shrugged. 

"I may understand what you are saying but I don't believe it." I winked. "But you already knew that, didn't you? So, I will take it slowly. Don't worry, I'm good at separating my work from my personal life."

"Sure," Dr. Knight burst out into laughter. I gave him a mock frown and shook my head before bidding goodbye.


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