The happiness industry is booming. Miserable people worldwide ensure that Art of Living Happiness Programmes rake in billions, and self-help books fly off the shelves all year.
For five years I was suffocated in a relationship of co-dependence. We were always together. But I was never present. It took me a while, but this year, I realised that I cared about my erstwhile partner a lot, but when I was with him, I had forgotten how to love myself.
I was adamant not to visit a therapist and then I stumbled upon a “mental health chatbot”. We are a generation that depends on apps for food, shelter, cabs, and sex. So why not therapy?
My acne-scarred face is the most enduring memory people have of me. When relatives come over, my brother gets the usual greeting of, “My, how you’ve grown!” I get “Why don’t you go to my friend’s dermatologist?” After years, I found a miracle drug. Was I willing to risk my health for it?
Angst is a formless shapeless ghost that hounds our mind and heart. People, sometimes unknowingly, invent ways to escape but often struggle and eventually, even give in.