Small Things

So, I had been thinking about a topic to write about. Something happened today that affected me quite a bit. I can’t really say how much of it was frustration, how much of it anger, and how much of it just disappointment. So instead of studying, I began searching for articles, and found many, titled: Is psychiatry a dying field? Are psychiatrists becoming a rare species? What is the attitude of medical students, interns and other medical professionals towards Psychiatry and Psychiatrist? Should psychiatry change its name to reduce stigma? And personally, the stigma is real! The world is going through a change, where mental health is given more and more importance. Depression and suicide are now being recognized as more than just weakness of a person. But the attitudes towards people with mental illness and even those who work in this field have not changed much over the years. The History of Psychiatry extends to ancient ages, one of the first articles regarding curing men

Who am I? Honestly, I don’t know. Am I my ideas, or am I my behaviour, or a combination of both? Or so much more. I wouldn’t know what to say about me if someone asked me to describe myself. My perception of even my physical appearance is distorted. I am still struggling with my identity. I just keep wondering if it is everybody or it's just me, or this is just us minority and nobody really gets it. The turmoil in my mind as I try to come to terms with the vastness between how I see myself and how others see me; but I think how I think others see me is also tainted by my own opinions of me.  (where am I going with this?) Let’s simplify it. Until a certain point in my life, I think I was a confident little girl. I don’t remember having trouble approaching people, talking in front of a crowd, or even performing in front of a crowd. But I was always sensitive, and was even named “runchi” (cry baby) by a neighbour when I was young because I would cry so easily and so often. (To be hone