family
Family can be our support system. Or they can be part of the problem. All about the complicated, loving, and difficult relationship with us and the ones who love us.
Through the Window of Wonder
A Child’s View of the World The sun was barely peeking over the rooftops when Lily, age five, pressed her nose against the cold glass of her bedroom window. Her breath fogged the pane in little clouds, and she traced circles into the mist with her finger. Outside, the world stirred to life—birds called softly from the trees, a mailman in a bright blue jacket walked by, and the neighbor’s cat perched on a fencepost like a tiny lion surveying its kingdom.
By Gabriela Toneabout a year ago in Psyche
Crumbled Minds
It was quiet. Too quiet. There was something about the silence that felt... strange, like it didn’t belong. The shadows seemed to stretch longer than they should have, creeping across the floor in ways that didn’t make sense. The room felt too big. Too empty. A soft, almost unnoticeable hum filled the space, but it didn’t come from anywhere. It was as though the air itself was speaking, but no words could be heard. Only the silence. The bed felt too soft. The walls were too still. The room, once so familiar, now seemed like a strange place. Something was missing. Something was wrong. But no one moved. No one spoke. The door creaked open. Footsteps—slow and soft—crossed the room. A hand placed a glass of warm milk on the bedside table, but it didn’t break the silence. The stillness lingered. A voice, small and hesitant, finally broke through. "Am I stupid?" The question hung in the air, sharp and fragile, like a breath held too long. The silence that followed seemed even louder than before. "What? Why would you say that?" The voice was gentle, yet filled with surprise, as if it couldn’t believe what it had just heard. Still, the figure on the bed didn’t move. Their eyes were fixed on the floor, not meeting the one who spoke. "Because… today, I got the answer wrong in class. I said the wrong answer to the teacher’s question, and everyone laughed. Even Amaan, my friend. And Sir, he… he smiled like I was a joke. I felt so small, Mama. I felt like I wasn’t even there. Like I wasn’t enough." The words fell, heavy and soft, filling the room with their pain. For a moment, no one moved. The weight of the words seemed to hang in the air, holding them both still. "You are not stupid. You’re not. Don’t you ever think that." The voice softened, and the figure on the bed was gently pulled into an embrace, a warm, comforting hold. "But tell me… why do you think that one mistake means you’re not enough?" The figure didn’t answer. They only shook their head slowly, their hands gripping the blanket tightly. The weight of the question felt heavy, too heavy to answer. "Because… I don’t know. It just felt like when I made that mistake, everything else went wrong. Like I’m always going to mess up. Like nothing I do will ever be good enough." Her heart broke a little more. She held them tighter. "Listen to me, darling. Little minds, like yours, break easily because they don’t know the whole truth yet." The figure looked up, confused. "What truth?" She smiled softly, brushing their hair back, trying to steady her own breath. "The truth that mistakes don’t define you. They don’t make you less. They just mean you’re learning. And when you learn, it means you’re growing." "But it still hurts. It hurts so much." The words came out in a soft whisper, filled with the sting of something raw. "I know, love. I know. Pain always hurts. But pain doesn’t last forever. Pain tells you that something inside is changing. When it hurts, it’s a sign that something new is being born in you." The figure wiped their eyes, the tears still there, but there was something softer in their expression now. "But why do I feel so small, Mama? Why does it feel like I’ll never be good at anything?" She held them closer, letting the warmth of her embrace seep into them. "Because, my love, you’re still growing. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect right now. You just have to keep trying. And with each try, you’ll get stronger. You’ll get braver. And one day, you’ll see that all those little mistakes are what helped you grow into someone amazing." The figure was silent, but now there was something different in their eyes—something that hadn’t been there before. A tiny spark of hope. "Do you think I’ll grow like that? Like a tree?" She smiled, brushing a tear from her own cheek. "Yes, I do. Big trees don’t grow tall in one day, love. They start small. They grow slowly, sometimes through storms, sometimes through hard ground. But eventually, they grow strong and stand tall. And you, my darling, are just like that tree. You may feel small now, but you’re growing stronger every day." The figure smiled softly, a small light returning to their eyes. They no longer felt like they were made of paper, fragile and weak. There was a sense of possibility, however small, starting to bloom inside them. "Will you stay with me tonight, Mama?" Her heart swelled. She pulled the blanket over both of them, wrapping them both in the warmth of love. "I’ll always stay, my love. I’m always here. And I will always help you grow."
By Taj Muhammad about a year ago in Psyche
Perverted sexual desires
Perverted sexual desires Research has shown that these sexual desires are often accompanied by other mental illnesses. About 70% of these patients suffer from depression, 40% from drug addiction, 38% from severe stress, and about 35% from hyperactivity and attention deficit disorder in childhood.
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Psyche
Shadows of Obsession
The Beginning of Darkness Eva was always unique, a girl whose thoughts teetered on the brink of reality and madness. Born beneath a tempestuous sky, she entered the world silently, her initial cries overshadowed by the roar of thunder. Her parents, weighed down by their own challenges, were unable to offer the affection she yearned for. Tragically, when she was merely an infant, a devastating car accident took their lives, leaving her without family. The state subsequently placed her in a succession of foster homes, each more fleeting than the previous one. Although she yearned for love and security, Eva found comfort solely in her rich imagination—crafting realms filled with characters who cherished her. However, as she matured, her dreams took a darker turn, descending into obsession and paranoia.
By Imon Mridha2 years ago in Psyche
When The Mind Trembles
When The Mind Trembles, the Body Breaks They say the body is a temple, but temples fall. Not because the stones grow weary, but because the foundation begins to crack — slowly, silently. And nowhere do those fractures begin more often than in the mind.
By Gabriela Tone2 years ago in Psyche
Neurodivergence in Kids
Note: I am in no way a parenting or child psychology expert. I am a parent with autism and ADHD, raising a highly sensitive child with ADHD, doing my best to make it through the roller coaster we call life. This article is about my own experiences and will not relate to everyone.
By choreomanias2 years ago in Psyche
Breaking the Stigma
Breaking the Stigma: Talking Openly About Mental Health In a world where conversations flow freely across digital platforms and social media, one topic still tends to be brushed under the rug—mental health. Despite increased awareness in recent years, stigma around mental health issues continues to thrive, fueled by misunderstanding, fear, and cultural conditioning. It’s time to break the silence. Talking openly about mental health is not just beneficial—it’s essential.
By Gabriela Tone2 years ago in Psyche
The psychology of love
'What is the real definition of love?' I was reading a definition somewhere in my school life that is - without considering good or bad, without feeling ashamed and disobedient to parents, and without going into the ocean, that is love.' The color of love changes based on the mind. Starting from human behavior and perspective, it changes. Since love is not bought and sold with the mind, why should psychologists be left out? Various psychologists have discovered various theories about love by falling into such a patch of love. Here I will share a theory of love of a psychologist with everyone. American psychologist, Professor of Cornell University Robert J. Sternberg's gave a three-dimensional theory of love in 1985, which is known as the Triangular theory of love. According to Stenberg, love in interpersonal relationships revolves around 3 dimensions.
By Arfan Raihen2 years ago in Psyche
Living with the Echo
Living with the Echo: A Story of PTSD and the Journey Toward Healing The clock read 3:17 AM. Sarah lay still in her bed, eyes wide open, drenched in sweat. The room was silent, but her heart was racing like she’d just sprinted a marathon. Another nightmare. Another scene replayed, as vivid and real as if it were happening all over again.
By Gabriela Tone2 years ago in Psyche
The Orchard Within
The Orchard Within For years, Jonas Vale had chased the world. He had the kind of success that people recognized from across the street—tailored suits, a German car with a name that sounded expensive, and a loft with windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. People admired Jonas. Envied him. Clients trusted him. He was always early, always sharp, always moving.
By Gabriela Tone2 years ago in Psyche
