Aying is a third-year junior high school student, excellent in academics, introverted and not talkative. She has a strong sense of inferiority, avoids interaction with the vast majority of classmates, and has only one good friend in class. Her parents are busy with work and rarely at home, strict in discipline towards Aying, not allowing any hobbies other than studying. There is little communication between parents and Aying, and the limited communication is only about grades. Aying once tried to communicate with her parents about psychological confusion, but was scolded and ignored by her mother. Therefore, Aying has taken an evasive attitude towards communicating with her parents.
Aying entered the counseling room with her head down, greeted me very softly, and timidly sat on the sofa under my greeting, not daring to look up at me.
Within a very short time, Aying let down her defenses, kept her head down and talked non-stop. Before long, she started crying, saying, “I almost forgot that I could cry.” Tears are the release of emotions and are a form of self-healing. I told her, “You can cry here because it’s safe, I’ll be here with you.”
Aying said, “I’m trapped in the shadows of the past, I want to use a knife to cut their faces, but I can’t do it, I can’t stoop to their level. No one has comforted me, and no one has asked me about the truth of those rumors. Since ninth grade, I have barely slept four to five hours each night, always waking up in the middle of the night. Hatred has kept me going for the past two years.”
For seventh-grade Aying, peer interaction is an important part of psychological development. After facing difficulties, she first explained to her classmates, showing her inner strength in problem-solving. However, her classmates did not appreciate it. Frustrated, Aying turned to another important source of support – her parents, hoping for comfort and support. However, her parents’ attitudes left Aying feeling deeply lonely and helpless. With the loss of interpersonal support, Aying chose to avoid social interactions, becoming introverted, insecure, and finding it difficult to open up to others about her true feelings. Her grades never made it to the top 100 again. Negative emotions dominated Aying’s thoughts most of the time, leading to distorted beliefs in her mind.
I genuinely appreciate Aying’s trust in me and willingness to share her true feelings. By expressing gratitude, Aying feels respected by others. Aying’s choice to seek help is a positive step, and I provide positive encouragement and praise.
She opened up more, saying, “I had a terrible nightmare, I think it’s because my heart is filled with hatred and obsession. I dare not tell others. Sometimes they say, ‘Your face looks like a pancake.’ Although I know it’s a joke, it still hurts me. If loneliness were a subject, I think I could score at least 130 points. I envy other girls who have comfort and care, while I can only lick my own wounds. Thank you for your trust and listening.”
It is evident that we have established a trusting counseling relationship, laying a good foundation for deeper communication. Through scene reconstruction intervention, Aying realizes the positive aspects of her life. Aying also shows more positive strength, and her personal resources and strength are starting to be mobilized.
Aying cried intensely, as if she wanted to wash away all the dust that had been suppressed in her heart for many years with tears. After crying, she continued speaking with her head down. I asked her, “The past is the past, you can choose not to forget it because it’s real. Since it’s real, how will you deal with these memories?”
She said, “I’ve thought about it a lot. I really understand that the best revenge is to excel in the graduation exams, only then will they regret it.”
I said, “That’s great, you’ve made progress, thinking of other ways to face the past, such as achieving good grades.”
Aying responded, “And achieving my goals. Perhaps there will be new hope in high school.”
I asked, “What’s next?”
Aying said, “I look forward to high school life and hope for a fresh start.”
I prompted, “Anything else?”
Aying replied, “Thinking like this, I don’t hate them as much anymore. They will become a thing of the past.”
I asked, “Can you lift your head and look at me while speaking now?”
Aying shyly smiled, lowered her head, and said, “I haven’t spoken to anyone in a long time, let alone look at them while speaking.”
I encouraged, “Give it a try, just one glance.”
Aying quickly glanced up at me.
Unexpectedly, Aying burst into laughter, tears streaming down her face as she laughed. She said, “It’s been so long since I laughed like this, I can’t even remember the last time.”
I asked, “Does it feel good?”
Aying replied, “Although it feels a bit strange to see someone speaking, it’s mostly relaxing.”
Subconsciously, I identified Aying’s pathological memory from seventh grade, a misunderstanding where three dormitory mates spread rumors, leading to Aying being isolated by the whole class, even her good friend started to drift away. Aying explained to other classmates, but no one believed her. She didn’t report it to the teacher, but talked to her parents, who responded, “Why do they only bully you and not others? Stop thinking about these messy things affecting your studies at school.” She felt angry, struggling, and helpless. By reorganizing Aying’s pathological memory, her angry emotions decreased significantly.
Two months after memory reorganization intervention, Aying’s mother gave feedback that her daughter’s emotions were generally stable during this period, and her relationship with her parents had also improved. Later, Aying was admitted to her desired high school, scoring higher than expected. I received a message from Aying, writing extensively about her summer activities and expectations for high school. At the end of the message, she wrote, “The sun is always there, it won’t come closer on its own. But if the sun doesn’t come, I’ll go towards it.” I wish Aying the best in her high school development.
