It was July 17, 2013. After a long turn of events after I had finally kicked Bipolar depression thanks to electro-convulsive therapy, my therapist had given me a diagnosis of Antisocial Personality Disorder. On this night in particular, I was going to find out if something more informative lie behind the mirror. A few days prior, she had administered the PCL-R, the Psychopathy Checklist – Revised, to see if I was actually psychopathic. This was the night that I would find out the results of that diagnostic. I thought heavily about the implications of the hypothetical results on the long drive to therapy. Would I be gaining insight into my seemingly non-existent identity this night? Were my lies really pathological and my lifestyle truly parasitic? I knew that I was impulsive, but was I that impulsive? We all know the answer to this now, but that night would prove fateful in many ways.