Another important topic I want to talk about is Therapy being frowned upon in society. Especially in the Indian Society. We find it difficult to open up to our parents, and if they don't understand us, who else are we going to open up to? We as humans have so much pent up anxiety, that it takes a toll on just our mental health, but also our physical health.
My dreams are like a game of tag in the dark.
I am dreaming in shades of hopelessness.
While the world keeps pulling me down, I am trying to hold on.
‘Will I ever be perfect for you?’ I want to scream out loud.
Yes, I am insecure. I am broken. I am far from perfect.
But what right does that give you to point fingers at me?
Don’t you know four fingers are pointing back at you?
You laugh at me, while I sit in a dark empty room, alone.
While you sleep, cradled in the arms of love,
I sleep with broken pieces of a shattered soul.
I am desperately trying to heal.
I know, like it’s all in my head,
But I’m all for healing.
I need to find hope.
I need to heal.
If not our own selves, who else will heal our souls?
Aren’t we all bits of cracked glass, trying to hold our pieces together?
Trying not to scatter our fragile pieces around?
How do I make this self-doubt disappear?
Things like-
· Is therapy good enough?
· Will people look down on me, if I tell them I’m in therapy?
· Can I heal myself?
· Should I care about what people think of me?
· What if therapy can’t fix me? Will anything fix me?
My heart only bleeds, longing to heal.
Will planting flowers in my mind, heal my soul?
I know I am not what ails me,
But one thing is for sure,
When those flowers bloom, my soul will finally be at peace with my mind.
And I will one day dream of being under the beautiful serotonin skies,
Medicated, and melancholy – nonexistent. Written By - Dr Kimberley Coutinho
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