Autopsy of a Mind

"Head in," he urged. He was flipping through a magazine about mass anxiety levels increasing or something. I shrugged and went in, clutching the file I had received from my last therapist. 

When I entered, I was stunned to see the room. It looked like a little hall and the pictures hanging on the wall showed that this man took classes for younger children here. But Philip Knight was actually sitting with his back to the wall alongside the door. I had to turn to my left to see the man scrolling through his phone. 

"Dr Knight?" I asked tentatively. 

The man looked up and I finally got a full view of him. He was clothed in a crisp white shirt and blue formal pants. The exciting thing about him was that he had a humongous belly and wide sparkling eyes that reminded me of Santa Clause. 

"Evie, I presume?" he said, sounding amused. "I've spoken to Sebastian about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, really." The greeting was warm but I sensed the underlying meaning. 

"That is to say that he has spoken about me. What's wrong with me?" I asked, thinking that he will answer me. 

"I come into this room after washing my hands," he proclaimed, stunning me. "I mean... I don't trust what people tell me. I'll have you tell me everything. Sebastian doesn't know what he is talking about anyway!" he scoffed. 

I found myself laughing, the noise traveling across the room. I had to bite back the effect before I could speak. "Don't let him hear that. He'll probably throw a tantrum," she teased. 

"Yes, I know. The child never grew up." He rolled his eye. "Did he tell you how much of a brat he was when he was younger?"

"He was a patient of yours?" My eyes widened and Dr Knight had to stop himself from saying more. "Don't worry. I'm his assistant. He won't mind me knowing the details of his life, narcissistic as he is."

"Well, not really a patient. His parents brought him in thinking that he had a learning disability, turned out they were just being overprotective." He paused. "I had to talk his parents out of therapy or going to someone else because the boy was reading some very grownup books from a young age. He was just bored and thought his parents weren't intelligent enough to indulge."

"Sounds like him. But why are you sitting between me and the door?" I just had to ask. The curiosity was eating me. I knew that suspects were usually treated this way but patients too? 

"Oh, I know what you are thinking. I'm not trapping you here. You can see the door clearly so if you plan on escaping, you have an option. I won't be stopping you and you can leave without explaining anything to me."

"I'm not doing anything. I'm just making conversation so that I get to know you better." He had a pleasing smile that calmed me. 

"I suppose you have your wiley ways of getting my story and problems out without having to hear everything from me." I snuck a look at him and sure enough, he was smiling. 

"You're perceptive. So, tell me. What do you want my help with?" Plain and simple. Straight to the point. 

"I believe I have unresolved trauma related to my capture seven years ago. I get very little sleep, my diet is a mess and I am constantly gripped with paranoia." 

"I'm glad you are so easy about your symptoms. Are you making small of them?" he asked in a timid manner. How very uncanny. 

"Not really. I realize that these are bad for me in the long run, but I also see the benefits they have." I had to think about it for a moment. "Like, the lack of sleep. I find it easier to concentrate when I get less sleep."

Dr Knight frowned. "I see. But why do you find it hard to sleep?"

"It is two-pronged. Firstly, I feel like someone is always watching me. Like they are going to jump out of the shadows at any time. And if I do fall asleep, I have terrible nightmares and sleep paralysis. I often find myself unable to wake up from my dreams. I can sleep up to twenty-four hours at a time if that happens."

"And, do you have hallucinations?" 

I found myself silent. I didn't know how to break it to him. "On my first case with Sebastian, he made me lay down on something and I had the wildest episode. It's not often I hallucinate or feel that level of pressure, but I will feel the pain and sensations all over again."

Actually, that whole sentence took me longer to say than expected. 

"And was one of these episodes the reason why you came to me?" He was the visage of empathy. 

"Actually, it was part of the reason. Sebastian persuaded me to come." I was quite ashamed to say this. 

"And why didn't you think of this yourself? Did you not want to come? Maybe because you don't need therapy?" His voice was free from judgment. 

"I know that I am in terrible need of therapy and rehabilitation. I'm not stupid enough to believe I am invincible. But... I have had very bad encounters with psychiatrists, unfortunately."

"Unfortunate encounters? I'm not sure I understand." He poked for more information. 

"I was taken to a therapist after fleeing from my captor. At that point, I was physically emaciated and unable to walk around. I was also reliving all the torture I had gone through for seven months. The psychiatrist basically told me to get over it and told me I was faking it." I had to shrug. I didn't have many feelings about this person because I understood the circumstances I had faced were impossible in the eyes of others. 

"And your eating habits, what about them? Any comments about that?" Dr Knight was furiously scribbling notes on a piece of paper. 

"I eat a lot of vegetables and fish. I avoid meat at all costs." 

"And why is that?" he asked curiously.