The Support Group

His surroundings faded and was replaced by the entrance to a stunningly themed, tropical hotel with plenty of engaging little details. A bronze skinned woman in a Hawaiian dress greeted Ben and offered a beautiful wreath of red and blue flowers. Ben went over and lowered his head. She draped the wreath over his head and onto his shoulders.

“Aloha, welcome to the Lost in Space,” she said smiling.

“Hi, what a nice welcome. I feel better already!” quipped Ben.

She laughed, “Mahalo. I am glad to hear that. The next group session starts in around about 15 minutes.”

Ben looked at his watch, “Thank you. I guess I’ll better hurry then.”

The path to the hotel was gorgeous. Natural stone floor tiles narrowed towards the entrance, punctuated by delicately lit pillars made from volcanic stone. The open doors were made from dark red wood that framed large stained glass insets. Ben soaked it all in, while following the floor tiles and entering the hotel. This is spectacular, he thought. He saw a young man behind a welcome counter and approached him.

“Hey there, I am looking for the self help group.”

“Say no more,” said the clerk smiling, “It’s very easy. Just go through this door,” he pointed to a double door in the back of the lavish reception area, “and you will be placed into a group that is about to start. It works kinda like multiplayer instances. Are you familiar with those?”

“Yes, sounds great. Thanks…”, Ben looked at the clerk’s name tag, “...Jonathan!”

“You are very welcome,” said Jonathan. “Would you like a name tag too? We recommend it, but it’s totally optional. Nothing is recorded of course either way.”

“Sure, I’ll take one, my name is Ben.”

The clerk took a name tag from a pile and wrote Ben on it with great care.

“Do you have any group composition preferences?” asked the clerk.

“No, at least not for now. Can I ask a question?”

“Oh quite certainly.”

“Why don’t I see anyone else arriving?”

“Ah, yes. Please allow me to explain: The reception area is a single player instance. This helps people with anxiety. The group rooms then are multiplayer.”

“Ah, that makes total sense,” nodded Ben, impressed how well thought out all of this was. “Well then, thank you very much.”

“Aʻole pilikia. You are welcome. If you have any other question please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Ben smiled and nodded before turning to the double doors. He passed them and entered into a short hallway that had carts on one side filled with exotic fruits, coffee, tea and pastries. Ben poured himself an Earl Grey and added milk and sugar.

The hallway ended in front of a dark red door. Ben knocked and when no one responded he opened it, finding what looked like a classroom with natural ambient lighting. A dozen comfortable chairs where arranged in a large circle. Next to each one was a little coffee table. Three quarters of the chairs were already taken. Ben moved closer.

“Welcome,” said a woman in her forties with a warm voice, ”it’s great to have you with us.”

She motioned towards one of the free chairs with a convincing smile, “please join us.”

She was tanned and barely used makeup. She gave an impression of confidence and experience and having the scars to prove it. Ben quickly read her name tag.

“Thank you Lucille.” He went for the free chair and took a sip of the perfectly tempered tea, before placing it onto the coffee table to his right. He sat down and took another look around the room. Two young men, one slightly older man, three young women, two slightly older woman and Lucille. Few users utilized really old looking avatars, no surprise.

Lucille looked at her watch, “Well, I think we should start.” She pressed a button on her watch and the doors to the room closed automatically.

“I am seeing some familiar faces and some new faces. That is great! I will start, unless someone else wants to.” She looked around. Most immediately looked away and to the floor. Ben followed suit, since he wanted to listen for now. Lucille didn’t seem surprised.

“So I had a few good days and a few bad ones,” explained Lucille. “One of my grandkids is old enough now to play Minecraft with me. That was a great deal of fun. The creativity she shows is just amazing. We made a farm for horses and zebras and Llamas. Tons of Llamas!” she laughed. “But then, when she has to go, I feel lonely again. The contrast is stark. I went on a couple of dates as well, but I just don’t connect it seems. There was one guy, he was really great. Interesting hobbies and very charming, but he politely let me know, that he isn’t interested in a monogamous relationship. But that’s not my cup of tea at this point of time in my life. So the search continues.” Lucille gave a half smile. “So that’s how my week went. Anyone else wants to share?”

Ben looked around, no one spoke up. He wondered if he should, but then he heard one of the younger women speak up.

“My week was a total mess.” Everyone started to look at her. “As regulars here know, I’m in an off and on relationship and last week we broke up again. It wasn’t even something serious, just some small disagreement that spiraled out of control as usual. But, it’s like, that he has this spell over me and I just can’t stand the feeling of being without him. It drives me crazy!” A single tear rolled down the eye of the woman with the name tag ‘Mara’. People nodded, sharing in her pain. A neighbor put a hand on Mara’s back and comforted her.

Lucille spoke up. “You know what I think of your relationship, but I understand not being able to let go. Trust me I’ve been there. We’ve all been there at some point would be my guess.”

Ben swallowed hard. He started to wonder if he was doing the right thing, being here, pretending to be one of them. But then he thought about Clarice and about the friends that lost her and the promise he had made them.

“Did you do something good for yourself as well?” asked Lucille.

“Yes,” said Mara resolutely, seemingly having expected the question, “I listened to a great audio book on a beach with pure white sand and many cocktails.” Everyone chuckled and smiled. She cracked a smile as well and wiped the tear from her cheek.

“That sounds great, good for you Mara!” said Lucille. “Take one day at a time and who knows, maybe this time you’ll stick it out.” Lucille winked at Mara who responded with a shy smile. Lucille looked around, “anyone else?”. Ben looked around as well, so did the others.

“I feel stupid,” said a young man with the name tag ‘Nate’, “I feel like I don’t have a real problem like you guys. Yet I am still unhappy most of my days.”

“Nate, welcome to the group,” said Lucille with a smile. ”Please don’t feel stupid. Here we don’t judge and we don’t measure. Share your burden with us and we will try to help you carry it, no matter how heavy, or light it might be.” Everyone nodded encouragingly at Nate.

“I just feel so empty. I feel like my life is meaningless. I feel like not having a problem actually IS my problem. Everything can be owned. Everything can be done. But everything is fake. There are no real stakes. I read these stories about the past and how people had to work for food. How it was hard to get by and how people were suffering. But I can’t help but think that that would have been the better time, at least for me. What’s the point of playing games all day? I want to help people. But no one needs me. I look around and I just don't feel like I belong here. You know what I mean?”

Some people nodded, but not Ben.

“Life is so meaningless,” continued Nate. “Nothing what I do matters, since nothing is real. You meet a girl, you start to fall in love and later it turns out it was just a stupid jerk having a laugh.”

“Ouch!” exclaimed Ben. Everyone looked at him, some chuckled. Blood rushed into his face.

“There are servers where you have to use a verified identity,” suggested Ben.

“I heard the checks on those servers can be spoofed. But, that’s not the point I am trying to make anyways. It’s just a symptom of the overall problem...”

“...that everything is fake,” finished Ben Nate’s sentence.

“Exactly right,” Nate nodded, “it makes it all feel so pointless…”

Ben tried to think of a response, when a girl with the name tag ‘Rooney’ chimed in.

“Not everything is fake, this meeting for example.”

Nate didn’t look convinced, so Rooney looked at Lucille, who smoothly picked up the thread, “That’s right! You seem to think that when you can have everything, nothing has value anymore, but that’s simply not true. Our experiences are real. This right here is real. What we create is also real. And all of these things can certainly still have a tremendous amount of value. And if I may talk about this topic a little bit longer, because it comes up quite a lot as you can imagine.”

Nate nodded.

”So when someone comes to me and asks me how to find meaning in this world of abundance, I like to explain the concept of self-actualization. Have you perhaps heard about Maslow's hierarchy of needs?”

Nate shook his head.

“So this psychologist Abraham Maslow discovered something called the hierarchy of needs. And it lists the things people need and want in life. From a very basic level, like food and shelter, to love and friends and finally to self-actualization. Self-actualization means realizing one's full potential and it is the highest level in the hierarchy of needs. So when you dream of living in the 1980s because people still needed to work to make a living, you’re missing the best part. Because people in 1982 often could not realize their full potential, exactly because of all the work they had to do to survive. For the first time in history, virtually everyone in our generation has the chance to realize their full potential, to self-actualize.”

Nate nodded so Lucille continued, “So I believe that this crazy new world has enabled us to shed the shackles of work and suffering. One could say that we are extremely lucky. So use your time wisely, carpe diem. Meaning don’t just consume; create something of your own! Bring something into this world that wasn’t there before.”

“Like what?” asked Nate.

“Any ideas, group?” encouraged Lucille.

“Maybe like painting or making music,” responded Rooney.

“Yes exactly!” said Lucille.

“I like developing games, it’s a ton of fun to watch people play them later,” added Ben.

“Or making movies”, chimed an older guy in.

“Or making movies!” agreed Lucille.

“And what if I suck at all of those things?” asked Nate.

“Well, you can’t expect to be good at something without training. You will have to put in the work,” explained Lucille, “but that’s what you want, right?”

“I guess, but everything you listed depends upon creative talent and taste. What if I have neither?”

asked Nate.

“The dirty little secret of creative success is that it’s 10% talent and 90% training,” explained Lucille further, “especially the taste part comes from experience, which is just a fancy word for training.”

Nate thought about it.

“There are some great creative workshops on this very server,” continued Lucille. “Here, I will send you a list.” She mouthed something to her VA. Nate nodded. “You know what?” a smile started to spread on his face, “that sounds like a great idea actually. I’ll try that!”

The session went on like this for another half an hour, with attendees sharing their troubles and Lucille giving well thought out advice. Then Lucille asked, “anyone else?” but no one responded.

“How about you Ben?”

Lucille quickly assessed Ben’s steady gaze despite his silence, giving him a moment.

Don’t do it, thought Ben, don’t do it! God damnit.

“I know it's not easy to talk about personal problems in front of a bunch of strangers. I know it’s hard to be vulnerable. But so far it’s usually been my experience that everyone feels at least some relief after sharing. So you wanna maybe give it a go?”

“The thing that’s weighing me down is that . . . I might have been responsible for someone else’s death.”

Everyone’s eyes widened, and nervous glances darted around the room.

Lucille raised an eyebrow. That was something not even she heard often.

“I tried to ignore it, to brush it aside, but I can’t. I feel responsible for it and it’s crushing me.”

Everyone remained quiet with shock after Ben’s admission.

Lucille inhaled.

“Oh wow, where to begin? I said we don’t measure, but you sure are trying to put us to the test,” she said with a half smile. Ben chuckled, glad for her to lighten the mood a little bit.

“Would you be open to a couple of questions and then maybe some suggestions?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

Lucille nodded.

“You said that you might have been responsible. So, you aren’t certain. Would it be fair to say that the uncertainty of the situation is a major source of emotional stress?”

Ben nodded.

“And of course, you are afraid of finding out that you are guilty.”

Ben nodded again.

Lucille took another breath. “Yeah, not knowing sucks. We’ve all had that feeling at some point in our life, to be on pins and needles, waiting for that one message that seems to take forever–or waiting for that test result. It hits some people harder than others. Most people get used to it–it is part of everyday life, after all. But some people struggle to cope and they go through life with a lot of stress and anxiety.”

Lucille paused for a moment, then she continued.

“Most of the work I do is in this area, what psychology calls ‘intolerance of uncertainty.’ Uncertainty about their everyday life. Uncertainty about things that other people might even consider normal.”

Lucille’s gaze had wandered while she spoke, but now she looked directly at Ben.

“But then there are things with implications that weigh so much, that they become unbearable, no matter what someone’s stress tolerance might be.”

Ben wanted to swallow, but his throat was dry as sandpaper.

“Honestly I don’t know what to say to you. In your case, your reaction is probably completely normal.”

Ben gave a weak laugh.

“You have no way to feel guilty or innocent,” Lucille agreed. “You are, quite simply, caught between a rock and a hard place.”

Ben half smiled, half nodded as Lucille continued.

“Let me say a few words on what I think about how one might normally deal with this. Maybe it helps you, maybe it helps some others here as well. Accepting uncertainty requires a change in perspective. It requires leaning into our fears. You build tolerance to uncertainty by exposing yourself to it. Learning to tolerate and deal with uncertainty is key in decreasing anxiety. And today, Ben, you took your first step! Congratulations.”

The group gave Ben supportive glances, and he smiled. He had to admit that he did feel relieved. The weight on his shoulders felt a little bit lighter. Lucille had been right.

“Ben, I will send you some information about cognitive behavioral therapy. CBT centers around the idea that a person’s emotional stress comes from their thoughts about an event rather than the actual event itself. I’ve had great success applying CBT to my life and you might find it useful as well.”

Ben nodded and Lucille mouthed something to her VA. Ben heard the sound of a wind chime informing him that he had just received her message.

Lucille looked at her watch. “Well, this about covers it I think.” She looked up again.

“Thank you all for sharing! Let’s try our best, to find the serenity,” began Lucille, and most other attendees chimed in, “to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Lucille started to clap her hands and everyone followed suit, giving rise to a welcome round of applause after all the talking. Attendees smiled and some even hugged. Lucille stood up with a proud smile and went to a large table at the edge of the room with more pastries and coffee machines. Ben followed her after a small pause. He watched her pouring herself a new cup of coffee, so he followed suit and fixed himself a new cup of Earl Grey. Nothing here could satisfy any feeling of hunger or thirst of course, but it was still a welcome source of warmth and flavor. Ben drank in the aroma of coffee as Lucille took a spoon and stirred her cup.

“Wow, that was quite something,” said Ben.

Lucille faced him. She took a sip of her coffee.

“Yeah, these meetings can be very powerful.” Ben noticed the corner of her mouth twitch slightly.

“You hadn’t planned on sharing anything, did you?” She smiled.

Ben grinned and shook his head. “Nope. I was 100% certain that I would only listen–at least during my first session.”

He chuckled, “But then everyone was so great, and I suddenly felt really safe. You know what I mean?”

Lucille nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. Yeah, these meetings have a strange power. It’s exactly the reason why I do them actually.”

Ben sipped on his perfectly tempered tea. “Thank you for being so welcoming to me.”

“My pleasure.”

“And how you talked to Nate. That was so great!”, said Ben.

“Thanks! For me, helping others is always easiest with things I have experienced myself. I knew where Nate was coming from–I’ve been there. In fact, that’s how I got into this. Finding meaning in life, you know?”

Ben nodded. “What you said about me was also really helpful I think. I will have to process it some more, of course.”

Lucille eyed Ben, “There is something else on your mind, isn’t there?”

Ben flushed, immediately second-guessing whether he should have disabled that feature before coming here. No second thoughts. It was too late now anyways.

“Wow, you’re good! Yeah, I guess I would like to talk to you about something else. Do you perhaps have some time now?”

Lucille looked at her watch. “I have half an hour, would that work for you?”

Ben raised his eyebrows in response. “Oh great! That will be plenty! Thank you!”

Lucille looked at him expectantly.

“Could we maybe sit down?” asked Ben.

She looked surprised. “Sure...”

Lucille mouthed something to her VA and two comfortable armchairs and a coffee table appeared in a more private corner of the room. Lucille went over. Ben looked around. Most of the other attendees were gone by now. Only Nate and Mara were still there, standing together and chatting. Good for them, thought Ben before following Lucille to the two new armchairs. He took a seat across from her and placed his cup onto the coffee table between them. Ben took a deep breath.

“I would like to talk about Clarice Mitchell.”

The expression on Lucille’s face immediately changed from interested to concerned.

“Okay, how do you know Clarice?”

“I’ll get to that in a moment, please bear with me.”

“Okay? What about her, then?”

Her confused reaction confirmed it for Ben: She hadn’t heard yet.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news . . .,”

Lucille’s eyes widened.

“. . . But, Clarice Mitchell died four days ago.”

“Oh god . . .,” she exclaimed, letting go of her coffee cup. The coffee and the cup disintegrated into brown and white particles.

Lucille put her head into her hands. Ben looked down for a moment.

“How?”

“I was told she died from dehydration.”

Lucille looked at Ben questioningly, her eyes searching his face.

“Police found her offline in her Neuropod.”

“What?” asked Lucille incredulously.

Ben scoffed, “I had the same reaction when I heard it for the first time, too.”

“I don’t understand.” Lucille pressed her eyes shut. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Well,” Ben looked around. Nate and Mara were gone, and now he and Lucille were alone.

“The person I was talking about in the group meeting, the one where I feel responsible, I was talking about Clarice Mitchell. My name is Ben Kendrick . . . so, you can see why I’m afraid that I might have something to do with what happened to her.”

Lucille thought for a moment.

“Wow, this is a lot to process . . . So, you fear that the Neuropod caused Clarice’s death?”

Ben nodded, “Yes, Clarice and two other women.”

“But you said she was offline.”

“Yes, all three were found to have been offline for at least three days at the time of their death.”

Lucille looked puzzled.

“So you’re in the clear, are you not?”

“Not exactly, all three were still plugged in.”

“What the hell . . .,” Lucille’s brow furrowed.

“Yep, exactly–something’s not right.”

Lucille composed herself and looked at Ben. “So, how can I help?”

“I’m not sure. I guess I would like to know if you think there was any reason to believe that Clarice would harm herself or do something drastic.”

Ben felt like Lucille was looking through him for a moment, lost in her own thoughts.

“There was a time . . . A time when I was really concerned about her, when I first started to work with her. She had real trouble interacting with people.

She had a really rough time back then. And I was afraid every day that I would lose her. But then, over a series of meetings, she started to respond to me and my suggestions and got better. She won so many personal battles. In fact, she started to help me with these meetings. Experiencing the joy of helping others changed her even more for the better. She improved dramatically.”

Lucille wiped at her eyes. “God damnit! For the life of me I can not imagine a scenario where she would kill herself like that–not as strong as she’d become. Absolutely not.”

Ben looked uneasy. He decided to cut to the chase.

“I heard that she did in fact like to be harmed, at least consensually.”

Lucille looked at Ben for a moment.

“Hey Ben, you know the saying, ‘trust but verify’–could I maybe see some ID before we go on?”

“Sure. Watson?”

“Compliance,” responded Watson.

Lucille, again, looked through him for a moment. Then she nodded.

“Okay, wow, so you’re the Ben Kendrick after all. That’s actually amazing.”

Ben nodded a little impatiently, waiting for her to continue.

“Yes, she was a masochist.”

“And what does that . . . entail?”

“It’s when a person obtains gratification or freedom from guilt as a consequence of humiliation, self-derogation, self-sacrifice and, in some cases, submitting to physically sadistic acts.”

“She told you that?” Ben asked.

“Not in those exact terms, but yes.”

“So it happened often?”

“Yes.”

“Even recently?”

Lucille glanced down and looked up again.

“Yes. But that does not mean that she would kill herself, considering that when she engaged in those acts, she was doing so for enjoyment.”

Ben thought things through for a moment.

“Can dehydration play a role in masochistic behavior?”

Lucille looked at her hands. “Uncommon, but yes.”

Ben nodded.

“Have you ever heard of a case where a Neuropod played a role?”

Lucille looked up again. “You mean the physical chair itself?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean like, use the chair to feel pain in the real world?”

“Yes.”

“No, never. As you of course know, it is much easier to engage in masochism by going online. Especially in her case, where she needed to submit to someone else.”

“So, Clarice did go online to engage in masochism?”

Lucille nodded slowly.

Ben felt the hairs on his arms stand up and a wave of electricity washed over his whole body.

“Do you know where she went?”

Lucille paused, then finally nodded again.