The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

"Mr. Wayne, I hope you understand that generally speaking, psychological diagnosis and treatment is a very private matter. Neither the patient nor the doctor wants a third party to be present. An unrelated person is listening here. No one will sincerely Confidential...you're getting in the way of my work."

Bruce saw Schiller turn around and stare at him. He realized that this Schiller was better at explaining than the professor he knew. If it was the previous professor, he would only get a "fuck" at this moment.

What's creepy is that when faced with this explanation, his brain is providing a sense of security, but his intuition is telling him that this is not a good thing.

It is always infuriating to be ignored, but it seems even more terrifying to be watched and patiently explained by such a professor.

Because he sees you as one of his kind, and the way he hopes to continue his friendship with you is a more complete oneness.

"It's okay." At this time, Professor Pig Noodles spoke. He took the initiative to walk to the sofa area in front of the glass screen wall, and sat down on the single sofa on the left side of the coffee table.

Bruce felt his heart skip a beat, because that was actually Schiller's place, and all visitors could only sit on the big sofa on the right.

Before turning around, Schiller glanced at Bruce again, but didn't say anything, but also turned and walked towards the sofa area.

Bruce finally breathed a sigh of relief. When he took his hand away from the door, a small head poked in. Harry gritted his teeth and said to Bruce: "Rich man, are you crazy? How long are you going to occupy Professor Schiller?" ?”

Bruce looked around, stretched out his hand and pulled Harry in, then covered her mouth, knelt down to look at her, and said, "Keep quiet, this is not the Professor Schiller you know."

Halle's eyes widened slowly. She poked her head out from behind Bruce, glanced at Schiller's back, widened her eyes, and said in a low voice, "It's changed again? But it won't be worse than the previous one. Bar?"

"Sometimes, you have to trust your instincts." Bruce stood up, walked lightly to Schiller's desk, and took out a tape recorder, a notebook and two pens from the left drawer.

Bruce walked to the sofa area with the tape recorder and put the tape recorder on the coffee table. At this time, Schiller hadn't sat down yet. He looked at Bruce's movements with his head tilted and said, "You look very professional."

"No more professional than you." After putting down the tape recorder, Bruce immediately turned around and walked behind the sofa. At the same time, he grabbed Harry who was about to sit on the sofa, and took the notebook and a pen in it.Stuffed it into the little girl's hand, looked ahead, and said in a low voice, "Write down everything you can remember, and don't make a sound."

After finishing speaking, he took a step back like Batman often does, stepping into the shadow of the wall, his sense of existence was weakened to the minimum, if he didn't make a sound, it would be as if he had completely merged into the darkness and disappeared from the room up.

Harry turned his head to look left and right, and the moment she looked up, Schiller's eyes just fell on her face?
In an instant, the roots of Harry's hair stood on end. She shivered from head to toe, took a quick step back, pressed her back against the wall, and began to write with her head down.

Schiller withdrew his gaze, took a step forward and walked to the side of the single sofa, turned his head to look at the pig-faced professor Valentine and said, "If it's possible, can I ask you to sit across from me?"

Valentine looked up, looked at Schiller with the eyes behind the pig's mask and asked, "Why?"

Schiller walked to the coffee table, picked up the tape recorder, and said while debugging: "Generally speaking, the layout of the psychiatrist's office is similar. There must be a wooden desk for writing and a warm and comfortable desk. rug, a cozy fireplace, a bed, and two facing chairs or armchairs."

"This kind of environment layout is actually to make patients feel relaxed, so most of the offices will use wooden floors and suspended ceilings."

"There will be no overly bright and complicated chandeliers on the ceiling. Instead, more natural flames will be used to make the room look a little dark, because it is easier to blur the boundary between reality and dreams, and let people better pour out their secrets."

"Then, why didn't you choose two single chairs?" Valentin was quite inquisitive.

"Every doctor has his own understanding of the diagnosis and treatment environment." Schiller hugged the radio, pressed the buttons on it one by one, and continued: "I think. Patients should be given a wider environment."

"First, many patients with mental illness may be obese due to medication, and a single chair or sofa may make them feel cramped and confined."

"When their body touches the armrest, or their back can't fully lean on the back of the chair, it makes them pay too much attention to their external posture, which leads to feelings of shame and restraint."

"I hope that my patients can stretch their limbs and not feel trapped in the cage of reality."

Schiller shook his head slightly and said: "When a single chair or sofa is produced, no matter where it is placed, it is telling everyone in its own form that only one person can sit in this position."

"This kind of implication will make some anxiety patients feel very panic, which is not conducive to their treatment."

"The vast majority of people with mental illness are hoping that they have escape and escape space, even though they don't actually have it, they also need similar cues."

"If they are sitting on a multi-person sofa, they can choose to sit across from me, or they can choose to avoid me and sit in a corner, which saves them from having to face me directly and bear the burden that they are being treated. Psychological hints, the pressure brought about."

"At the same time, I can also judge the severity of their illness by which part of the chair they choose to sit on, and adjust my treatment plan by their demeanor and movements when making the choice."

"Did I explain it in enough detail?" Schiller tilted his head and looked at Valentine, who nodded, then stood up and sat on the sofa opposite, and the seat he chose was facing the single sofa.

Schiller sat down on the single sofa again, he put the tape recorder on the table, looked at Valentine and asked, "Can I record?"

Valentine nodded and said, "Of course."

"Thank you for your cooperation. The recording of the treatment process will only be used for my personal review of your condition, and other similar academic research. The process and content of the conversation will be kept completely confidential."

"Crack."

The button of the tape recorder was pressed, and the tape began to rotate. Schiller leaned back, folded his hands in front of him, looked at Valentine and said, "It can be seen that this is the first time you have come to see a psychological Doctor, generally speaking, there are two modes of psychotherapy, you say it, or I say it.”

Valentine narrowed his eyes. Although he was wearing a mask, no one could see his expression clearly, but perhaps because of this, the emotion revealed in his eyes was very clear, and he felt a little puzzled.

Bruce stood at this position, so he could see the profiles of both of them at the same time. A psychiatrist who looked very calm was sitting face to face with a monster wearing a pig-head mask. tape recorder.

The scene looked scary and weird, but Bruce felt very invested, or rather, he was looking forward to the next conversation between the two.

In fact, this is the first time that Batman has faced the inner world of these killers. He can't wait to know how these indifferent, cruel and inhuman natural killers view the world and how they view the world. my own.

"I've already told my own experience." Valentine said, "But I'm here now, just to know what you said, I didn't regard them as pigs subconsciously, and I didn't regard myself as a butcher ,What exactly is going on."

Schiller shook his head and said, "If you want the treatment process to be led by you, then what you have to do is not to ask me questions, but to express your confusion about something, in any way."

"You can talk about the logic that makes you wonder. For example, if you want to know why you don't like apples, then you can talk about what happened to you with apples, and when did you come into contact with apples? When did you first develop an aversion to apples? How did your palate feel after eating them?"

"Or, you can also start from your emotions and export your intense dislike of Apple to me, whether it is insulting, crying, or repeatedly describing the anxiety and sadness you have experienced, it is fine."

Schiller stretched out his hands in front of him, and said, "Psychotherapy is not for you to seek the truth. A psychiatrist cannot give you an objectively correct answer."

"You are here looking for understanding. I help you understand yourself and let you understand. The psychologist understands you and is willing to help you."

"If I have to say, since when did I hate those people, maybe it was the day my mother died." Valentine said, "Actually, I don't like my father at all. When I ran around, when I got home, I just kept complaining about the busy work and high prices."

"He didn't care about me and my mother. All he taught me was to drive me away impatiently when I was talking to him, or to punch me if I offended him."

"Your father was violent?" Schiller asked.

"At that time, people didn't have such a concept." Valentine replied: "The son is the property of the father. If I was beaten by him, it must be because I did not do well."

"At that time, my only hobby was eating. I went to buy cheap bread, butter and dairy products every day and ate non-stop. Before he died, I was far beyond the size of children of the same age, so I had no friends at all."

"Are you saddened by your father's death?" Schiller asked.

"Of course." Valentine nodded and said, "But what makes me even more sad is that my mother said that our family income has been greatly reduced, and I can no longer eat so much."

"Children's bulimia." Schiller read softly.

"I hate them because after my mother died no one gave me that much food anymore and I was sent to a special education school for special children but no one liked me there because I was too fat and always It's unscrupulous stealing."

When Valentine narrated his childhood experience, the indifference in his tone made Bruce feel creepy. He calmly seemed to be talking about other people's affairs, and he didn't feel sad or sad at all.

"The way they helped me get rid of bulimia was not to give me any food, so I lost weight at an extremely fast speed." Valentine nodded slightly and said, "Since then, I The attitude towards food became very strange, I didn’t like to eat anymore, and even hated to eat, but I was always hungry.”

"Later, that special children's education school closed down, but when counting the students, because I was too thin, the principal and teachers of the school were accused of child abuse, and I was transferred to a community primary school."

"Because I don't like to eat, and the teachers there are worried that others will misunderstand them and mistreat me, so I must eat, otherwise I can only sit at the dining table."

"Soon, I learned how to control the right amount of weight with the right amount of food like an ordinary person, but I know that I have completely lost interest in normal human food, but I am always hungry."

"As I got older, I started getting hungrier, but later on, I gradually discovered that the emotion of hunger and thirst is not actually hunger."