recovery
Your illness does not define you. It's your resolve to recover that does.
Understanding the Unique Mental Health Needs of Veterans
Veterans face unique challenges due to their service experiences, often carrying the psychological weight of trauma, stress, and complex emotional burdens long after they return home. Mental health and addiction disorders are prevalent among veterans, making specialized care and targeted support essential for their recovery and reintegration into civilian life. This article explores veterans' mental health and addiction services, highlighting the specialized programs designed specifically to support those who have served.
By Jared Benning2 years ago in Psyche
When My World Paused for a Stranger - Austin Shivaji Kumar
I remember the exact platform. Dadar station. The financial and chaos capital of Mumbai. The kind of place where the air feels thick with movement, where a thousand footsteps stomp through your silence. You don’t get a second to think. Or feel.
By Austin Shivaji Kumar2 years ago in Psyche
The Forgotten Language of Touch: How Physical Contact Shapes Our Emotional Well-being
In a world dominated by screens and digital expressions, we have learned to communicate through messages, emojis, and reactions. We connect in online meetings, express love with virtual hearts, and offer condolences through comment sections. Yet, in our reliance on words and technology, we’ve drifted away from one of the oldest and most profound forms of communication—physical touch.
By Mysteries with Professor Jahani2 years ago in Psyche
The Invisible Weight: Living with the Emotional Baggage We Don’t Talk About
The Backpack No One Sees When my friend Julia died suddenly in a car accident, her husband, Mark, showed up to her funeral wearing a crisp suit and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He shook hands, accepted casseroles, and thanked everyone for their support. Two years later, at a dinner party, he casually mentioned he still sets a place for her at the table. The room fell silent. No one knew what to say—not because they didn’t care, but because grief, like so much of our emotional baggage, lives in the shadows.
By Mysteries with Professor Jahani2 years ago in Psyche
How Small Acts of Kindness Changed My Perspective on the World
The Day a Stranger’s Umbrella Taught Me About Humanity It was a gray, drizzly afternoon in Kyoto when I first grasped the quiet power of kindness. I stood outside a train station, drenched and frustrated, silently berating myself for forgetting my umbrella. Out of nowhere, a woman in her sixties—her silver hair peeking beneath a sunhat despite the rain—paused beside me. Without speaking, she opened her bright red umbrella and held it over both of us. We walked in silence for two blocks until she nodded toward my destination: a tucked-away tea shop. When I thanked her, she smiled and said, “The rain feels lighter when shared.” Her words lingered long after the clouds parted.
By Mysteries with Professor Jahani2 years ago in Psyche
Migraines and Medication. Content Warning.
CW: References to severe chronic pain, dismissal by doctors, and drug addiction. This is a trauma dump in some ways. It’s not really something you can understand unless you’ve lived it. So right now, for a few minutes, I invite you to live it with me: the dread and confusion of being a medical-mystery child.
By Brynne Nelson2 years ago in Psyche
Tumours Change Everything and Nothing At All
Inspiration stems from the iconic and unforgettable line from the New Amsterdam TV series where Dr Max Goodwin (played by Ryan Eggold) was told by one of his patients that "Cancer changes everything and nothing at all."
By Justine Crowley2 years ago in Psyche
Becoming My Own Gravity. Runner-Up in The Metamorphosis of the Mind Challenge. Top Story - April 2025.
I was standing at the end of a hospital bed, holding my son’s hand as tightly as I could, hoping if I held his hand, it would help to anchor him as we witnessed the unthinkable. He was about to turn twenty-two; she had just turned twenty-one six weeks earlier. He was in shock, not knowing how to process what he was seeing. I didn't know how to process what we were seeing. Thirty-six hours earlier, he had kissed her as she and her mother got into a cab to go to the hospital. At the time I could feel him trembling inside as he stood there stoically. I could feel his world slipping away beneath his feet as much as my own. The doctors and nurses had just taken her off life support. Tubes removed, monitors silenced. It had only been twelve days since she first felt that earache. Twelve days from ordinary to catastrophic. The doctor called her time of death within two minutes. This was the pivotal moment—an abrupt halt to life as I knew it, a violent scratch across the record of my life that had been playing. It was the moment we felt the ground beneath our feet disappear.
By Xine Segalas2 years ago in Psyche
I Confronted My Inner Child—and Everything Changed
We carry our past like invisible luggage—heavy, worn, and often forgotten. But what if the person who needs your attention the most isn’t a stranger or even someone from the outside world? What if it’s the child you used to be, waiting quietly within you, still hurting, still hoping? This is the story of how I came face to face with my inner child—and how that moment shattered everything I thought I knew about healing, self-worth, and personal growth. --- For years, I thought I was doing just fine. I had a decent job, a circle of friends, a life that looked “okay” on the outside. I paid my bills, showed up to events, smiled in photos, and posted quotes about gratitude on my story. But inside, there was always this strange ache I couldn’t name. A subtle, gnawing sadness that came and went without warning. I thought it was just stress. Or maybe just how life was supposed to feel once you became an adult. I didn’t know I was carrying around a version of myself that had been silently screaming for years. It all started one late evening, after a long and frustrating day. I was scrolling on my phone, half-listening to a podcast in the background when a phrase caught my ear: “Healing begins when you meet your inner child.” Something about those words made me pause. I’d heard of inner child work before, but always brushed it off as too abstract. Too emotional. Too… soft. But I was tired of feeling like a robot in my own life. That night, I tried something I’d never done before: I sat in silence with myself. No music. No distractions. Just me, my thoughts, and a question that felt almost silly: “Where are you?” At first, nothing happened. My mind wandered. I thought about emails I hadn’t answered, laundry I hadn’t folded. But then, unexpectedly, a memory surfaced—one I hadn’t thought about in years. I saw myself at seven years old. Sitting at the bottom of the staircase in our old house. Knees pulled to my chest. Clutching a crumpled notebook, tears streaming down my face. My dad had just called my drawing "a waste of time" and told me to focus on something “useful.” That little me didn’t understand. He just wanted to be seen. To be proud of something. To be told it was good. In that moment, I felt it—grief, sharp and deep. I started crying, and I didn’t stop for a while. I wasn’t just mourning a drawing or a harsh comment. I was grieving all the parts of myself I had silenced over the years. All the little versions of me that were told to sit down, be quiet, grow up. I realized I had built my entire adult identity on top of unhealed wounds. I chased achievements for validation. I avoided conflict to stay liked. I made myself small in relationships because I feared being “too much.” And every time I ignored my own needs, I was abandoning that little kid inside me all over again. That night, I did something I never thought I’d do. I closed my eyes and imagined sitting beside that younger version of myself. I told him everything he needed to hear: “I’m so sorry they made you feel invisible.” “You were never a burden.” “You are creative. You are worthy. You are enough.” It wasn’t a magic fix, but it was a beginning. And beginnings are powerful. Since that night, I’ve made it a practice to check in with my inner child regularly. Sometimes, it’s a journal entry. Sometimes, it’s a quiet walk where I simply ask, “How are you feeling?” There are days he feels scared, especially when I’m taking risks or speaking up for myself. And I’ve learned not to push that fear away, but to hold it gently and respond with love. I began noticing how many of my “adult” struggles were just echoes of unresolved childhood pain. My fear of being judged wasn’t about coworkers—it was about being laughed at in school. My anxiety around relationships wasn’t about my partner—it was about not feeling safe to express emotions as a kid. Connecting these dots didn’t just give me clarity—it gave me freedom. Healing my inner child changed the way I live: I no longer perform for approval—I express myself authentically. I no longer suppress emotions—I give myself space to feel them. I no longer see vulnerability as weakness—I see it as a return to truth. I even started drawing again. At first, my hand trembled. That inner critic, shaped by years of shame, still whispered doubts. But I kept going. I bought crayons, colored pencils, messy markers. I let that little version of me play again, and for the first time in forever—I felt joy that wasn’t tied to productivity or praise. Just joy for its own sake. This journey hasn’t been easy. Sometimes healing feels like breaking. But the beautiful thing is—you’re not breaking apart. You’re breaking open. Opening to the parts of you that have been buried beneath expectations, fear, and time. If you’ve ever felt lost, disconnected, or like something’s missing—you’re not broken. You’re probably just overdue for a conversation with the version of you that still believes in magic. Still trusts easily. Still hurts deeply. Still hopes. So let me say this, to your inner child: I see you. I hear you. You are enough. You always were. --- Final Thoughts: The day I confronted my inner child was the day everything shifted. Not because the world changed—but because I did.
By Gift Abotsi 2 years ago in Psyche
I Died in My Mind. Honorable Mention in The Metamorphosis of the Mind Challenge.
I was hospitalized for the entire month of January 2015 with necrotizing pancreatitis which eventually progressed to multi-organ system failure. For 90% of that month, I was in the ICU. At my lowest point physically, I was given a 20% chance to live. So much fluid had built up inside my abdomen that at various times my kidneys, lungs, and heart each failed completely or had their function reduced to levels below what is necessary to sustain life. An emergency surgery called a decompressive laparotomy saved my life. Basically, they cut me open at the midline of my torso from sternum to waist, spread me apart and left me like that for three days to drain.
By Everyday Junglist2 years ago in Psyche
Covert Narcissism: 10 Hidden Signs and How to Protect Yourself Emotionally
A delicate skill, covert narcissism is a sneaky technique of manipulation disguised under smiles, pretended apathy, and deliberate detachment. From my experience, there is a pattern — a set of hidden narcissist signals — that expose their actual character even if they carefully hide their methods. I will reveal ten hidden indicators of covert narcissism today and walk over how you could emotionally defend yourself from these poisonous tactics. Prepare yourself: many people overlook until it is too late the silent, but terrible, weaponizing of disengagement and other covert measures that follow.
By Waleed Ahmed2 years ago in Psyche
