Total 47 Stories

  • 20 Dec
    Shiva Raman Pandey

    Couple therapy-how we rekindled the fire

    couple therapy

    Love is one of the most beautiful human experiences. My story of love was fairly typical. She was someone I met in college.  With some hesitation, I approached her, but soon, we were friends, and then in a relationship.

    There were the usual obstructions of career and family, but we glided through all that, to a marriage in our late 20s. Slowly, the monotony of daily life and the pressure of work crept in.

    We no longer had the novelty of a new relationship, nor the goals like ‘convincing parents’. We were done with all that, and now it was just the two of us.

    That’s what’s wrong, we thought. We should have a child. We did, we had two children. For a while, we got busy with them, but then later, that too became routine.

    The odd thing was that we hardly ever fought. We had just fallen out of excitement and intimacy for each other. I longed for those days in our youth when we just couldn’t wait to see each other.

    Now, we had hardly anything to say. I was getting tempted by other, younger women in the office.

    Many of my male friends told me this is normal and that I should take a ‘chance’ when I can. I could have gotten away with it had I wanted to. But I believed in our love and wanted to figure a way out.

    I went to a counselor. She explained to me how the roles of mother, wife and office-goer put so much stress on my wife that she hardly had any energy left for me. She said we did not have fights simply because she did not have the energy to express her anger and disappointment in me.

    I was shocked. When had I become like every other typical man? I was resolved to make things better. I started participating at home, and also took equal part in upbringing the children.

    I bought my wife too and we underwent couples’ therapy for better communication skills. Things were much nicer now, but one thing was still lacking: excitement. We decided that the dream we had of travelling is what would unite us again.

    We made a plan of budgets and started ticking of destinations one by one: first the Indian ones and then foreign countries. On some of these trips we took the children, and on the rest, it was just the two of us. And that’s how we rekindled the fire.

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  • 20 Dec
    Shiva Raman Pandey

    Friends are not always the best

    Friends are not always the best

    I was a bright student in college. I sat for extra lectures and seminars, with a genuine thirst for knowledge. I was also a little nervous. No matter how much I knew or tried, I would always blank out in exams. I was standing with yet another sheet of bad results in my hand.

    A boy came and stood next to me. He said that he also had trouble remembering, and someone had told him that all the anxiety in his mind is what interfered with him remembering what he had learnt, And then he had been given a medication that calmed him down so that he could remember well.

    I was quite amazed! All it would take to solve my problem was a pill. I went to his house the next day, and there was some sort of party happening. I asked him if he could give me the pill or at least the name, so I got a prescription.

    They all started mocking at me and laughing at me, and gave me a powder sort of a thing to have. I didn’t know it then, but they had gotten me into a powerful drug.

    I wanted more and more as days passed by. My performance in studies reduced drastically and I started to steal from home because of this habit.

    I was horrified at what I was doing, and I took more of the drug to escape the guilt. It was a vicious cycle and I was caught in the middle of it.

    One day, tired of it all I was about to kill myself, when my mother walked in. she ran and hugged me and told we would sort it out. I was sent to rehab.

    They did not use a lot of medication there and it was mostly activity-based. I had a good counselor who understood my problems and told me that the main issue here was underconfidence and nervousness.

    Together we worked on it and I’m much better now.

  • 20 Dec
    Shiva Raman Pandey

    The nights go by

    The nights go by

    There is nothing remotely romantic about staying up all night. If you can sleep, youshould. Nothing is worth losing sleep over: not a romantic partner, not a job, nothing. Ask someone who can’t sleep even if he wants to. I don’t remember the last time I slept peacefully for days on end.

    I was a football player, but that doesn’t pay well in this country. I was too young torealize that I should join an under-18 club outside in some foreign country to have a real chanceat the game. A friend of mine invited me to play a private tournament, because I thought: what could go wrong?

    It turns out that everything could. I remember each moment of it. I saw as my knee turned the other way around, and I heard a snapping voice. I lost consciousness after that. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. My family told me that I needed an expensive knee surgery.

    Whether I could play or not is out of the question. I only heard the word expensive. And I was right. They reminded me day and night in their ‘helpful’ way about how much they had paid and how I couldn’t pay them back. Slowly, I got bitter and better. Lost my cheerfulness. Lost my friends. And lost my sleep.

    Little by little, the hours of the night would crawl away. Before I knew it, I had insomnia. Around that time, a suicide helpline was started. I really needed to talk to someone. I called them up.

    Slowly and steadily, some of my tensions were resolved. Football as a career was not possible, but I got a job as a sports analyst. I moved out of the house, my family wouldn’t change. I still have some sleepless nights, but it’s much better than it used to be.

  • 20 Dec
    Shiva Raman Pandey

    Down Syndrome-A Motivational Story You Must Read

    down syndrom

    I have Down syndrome. I cannot speak or think as fast as you do, but I feel the things you do.

    I feel love and joy, when I do something nice or when I see that my loved ones are happy.

    I feel great when I achieve something, especially if it’s something others think I would never have achieved.

    I love it when I can outdo myself, because I have long stopped competing with others.

    I also feel sad, low and angry at times just like you do.

    I feel sad when people call me names. I felt sad and angry when I was not given any jobs and when I was bullied in education systems for the way I am. Even my teachers behaved differently at times. I was hurt and low when I feared that this was how it was always going to be.

    But should I feel bad for all this?

    I am still lucky because many people with Down syndrome are abandoned and not given the attention I was.

    A specialist in rehabilitation was sought by my parents and he really worked hard to turn me around.

    He was trained in counseling so he even addressed and understood the emotional issues I was going through.

    I told him my idea of not looking for jobs and instead starting my own business.

    It was challenging but I had help and it least I would not be limited because I spoke and looked different.

    He told me inspiring stories of people with the same issue in countries like America who were becoming photographers and business persons and athletes!

    So do I regret who I am?

    Not at all. Having Down syndrome means that I am slow in processing things, but as I take longer, I cherish.

    I cherish moments, I cherish love and I cherish happiness.

    I wonder how many ‘normal’ people can say that?

    Feel free to Ask any Question to Our Therapists.

     

  • 20 Dec
    Shiva Raman Pandey

    Body Dysmorphic Disorder-I hate the mirror

    body dysmorphic disorder

    I see all these girls look at themselves happily in the mirror as they get dressed.

    I am jealous of them.

    I wish I could face myself like that. But the truth is, I hate the mirror.

    I am afraid of what it may show me.

    Will it show me an inflated doll? Or will it show me a crinkled old woman?

    I felt like I am withering away, yet I couldn’t bring myself to eat.

    I felt that each morsel I eat could add layers to my body.

    I started to wear more and more loose clothes. I reduced to go out.

    I locked myself in my room.

    My parents were worried but had no idea what to do.

    They thought it was just teenage hormones, that I was withdrawing after a bad break-up. If only they knew.

    I started cutting myself. The pain would help me stop thinking about my body.

    I hated my body!

    If it was so horrible, what difference was a few cuts going to make.

    One day my mother walked in when I was cutting, and the shock on her face was unimaginable. I could say that she was really scared.

    A doctor came, and asked to hospitalize me.

    They had to feed me because I was losing essential nutrients.

    I was resisting because I didn’t want to put on weight. Then they sent a psychologist to me.

    I was very skeptical at first, but as I spoke to her, I realized that she knew what I was going through.

    We did a lot of art together, and she told me she had worked with other girls with similar issues, and they are not scared of the mirror anymore.

    Little by little, I got comfortable with my body. Slowly, I started to go out sometimes.

    I began my studies again. I didn’t hide in my room anymore.

    Today it’s an entire two years since I was hospitalized. Today is Diwali. I am looking at myself in the mirror as I get ready. I don’t hate the mirror any more.

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