selfcare
The importance of self-care is paramount; enhance your health and wellbeing, manage your stress, and maintain control under pressure.
Why Some People Feel Alone Even in Relationships
Lena woke up next to her husband of seven years and felt like a stranger was sleeping beside her. Not because Tom had changed. But because somewhere between the wedding and this Tuesday morning, they'd stopped being two people who knew each other and become two people who lived in the same house.
By Ameer Moaviaabout a month ago in Psyche
The Psychology of Losing Yourself While Pleasing Others
The Woman Who Forgot Her Own Name Rachel stood in the grocery store for eleven minutes, staring at yogurt. Her husband preferred strawberry. Her daughter liked vanilla. Her son would only eat the kind with cartoon characters on the lid. Her mother-in-law, visiting this weekend, had mentioned she was trying to eat more protein.
By Ameer Moaviaabout a month ago in Psyche
How Constant Comparison Slowly Breaks Self-Worth
It started with a wedding photo. Jessica was scrolling through Instagram at 7:23 a.m., still in bed, coffee cooling on her nightstand. The algorithm served her a picture of someone she'd gone to college with—Amber, who she hadn't thought about in years.
By Ameer Moaviaabout a month ago in Psyche
I Let AI Help Run My Love Life in 2025 — And It Got a Little Too Honest
If you’ve been single in 2025, you already know: the dating apps are starting to feel less like apps and more like ecosystems. Profiles are written by AI, photos are filtered by AI, and now, if you want, your whole “compatibility journey” can be guided by an algorithm that claims to understand you better than you understand yourself.��
By The Insight Ledger about a month ago in Psyche
I Tried Living Like It Was 2010 Again — And It Quietly Broke Me
Nostalgia is sneaky. It doesn’t just show you the past; it edits it for you. It cuts out the awkward silences, the cheap shampoo, the bad phone cameras, and leaves you with sunsets, inside jokes, and a version of yourself who always seemed a little lighter.
By The Insight Ledger about a month ago in Psyche
Home Is Not a Place—It’s a Nervous System
I carry home in my shoulders. In the way they tighten when voices rise. In how my breath shortens before my mind can name the danger. Home, for me, has never been a place you could pin on a map. It has never been an address that stayed long enough to memorize the cracks in the walls. Home learned to move when I did. It adapted. It folded itself into muscle and memory, into reflexes I didn’t choose but inherited from moments that taught me how to survive. As a child, I thought home was where you returned at night. A door. A bed. A familiar ceiling. But even then, my body knew better. It knew that walls don’t promise safety. Silence doesn’t always mean peace. And love, when inconsistent, teaches vigilance faster than trust. So my nervous system became the house. It learned the language of footsteps. It memorized tone shifts. It developed an instinct for reading rooms before my eyes fully entered them. While others were taught to relax at home, my body learned to stay alert everywhere. This wasn’t anxiety at first. It was intelligence. It was adaptation. It was the quiet brilliance of a system that decided, without consulting me, that it would never be caught unprepared again. Modern identity doesn’t begin with who we are. It begins with what our nervous systems learned when no one was explaining things. Long before we chose values or careers or aesthetics, our bodies made decisions. About closeness. About conflict. About rest. Some people carry home in their chests — expansive, warm, forgiving. Others, like me, carry it in our shoulders, lifted slightly as if bracing for impact. Not dramatic enough to be noticed. Not relaxed enough to forget. This is what psychologists call regulation. Or dysregulation. Or trauma, depending on who is speaking and how clinical the room feels. But in lived reality, it’s simpler and more intimate than terminology allows. It’s the difference between entering a space and feeling your breath drop into your belly — or hovering somewhere near your throat, unsure. I used to think I was bad at settling down. Bad at belonging. Bad at staying. But the truth is more precise: my body never learned that staying was safe. So it learned movement instead. It learned how to pack quickly, emotionally. How not to leave fingerprints on relationships. How to be present without being exposed. It learned to treat even good moments as temporary — not out of pessimism, but out of habit. This is where modern psychology meets identity. Not in labels, but in patterns. In the way we mistake survival strategies for personality traits. We say we are “independent,” when really, we learned early that asking for help did not always end well. We say we are “low-maintenance,” when in truth, we learned not to need too much out loud. And somewhere along the way, we start believing these adaptations are who we are — not what happened to us. Home, then, becomes something we try to build externally. A relationship. A city. A routine. We move apartments hoping the next set of windows will finally teach our bodies to exhale. We curate spaces with plants and soft lighting, hoping comfort will arrive through design. Sometimes it does. Briefly. But the body remembers faster than the mind forgets. It remembers raised voices, even when none are present. It remembers abandonment, even in crowded rooms. It remembers inconsistency like a native language. And until it is taught something new — gently, repeatedly — it will continue to act as if danger is just around the corner. Healing, I’ve learned, is not about finding the right place to live. It’s about retraining the nervous system to believe that safety can exist without conditions. This is slow work. It looks like learning to unclench your jaw without being prompted. Like noticing when your shoulders rise — and choosing to lower them, even if nothing obvious is wrong. Like letting good moments stay good, instead of scanning them for exit signs. It is the quiet revolution of teaching your body that rest does not require permission. I am still learning this language. Still negotiating with a system that kept me alive when it had to, and doesn’t yet trust that it can stand down. I thank it now, instead of resenting it. I tell it we are no longer where we once were. I tell it, sometimes out loud, that this moment is safe. Home, I am discovering, is not a destination. It is a sensation. It is the moment your breath deepens without effort. The moment your shoulders drop without instruction. The moment your body stops asking, “What’s about to happen?” and starts saying, “I am here.” And maybe one day, I won’t have to carry home in my shoulders anymore. But until then, I hold them gently. Because they’ve been holding me for a very long time.
By Jhon smithabout a month ago in Psyche
New Year's resolution for mental health
New Year's resolution for mental health As we stand at the threshold of a new year, it's natural to pause and reflect on the journey behind us while looking forward to the path ahead. The New Year holds a symbolic power, inviting us to reset and renew our outlook on life. It serves as a unique opportunity, a psychological landmark that inspires intentional change. While many focus on physical health or career goals, it's crucial to recognize that the foundation of all transformation lies in our mental health.
By Actual Bitabout a month ago in Psyche
Why Somatic Healing Techniques Trump Traditional Self Help
When the body feels and becomes safe - that is when pain and trauma starts to transmute. Talk therapy, combined with listing down the pros and cons of aiding in decision making, no matter the magnitude, is all well and good; yet such self-help and healing techniques do not reach the somatic and sticky bits, right up to the fascia. In no way, shape or form are these techniques being discounted and brushed aside; however for deep healing from caretaking, people pleasing, co-dependencies and addictions (all in the name of unresolved trauma - whether acquired through childhood and/or adulthood); being stuck in the head is a significant disservice to you, and to all of us. (Yes, we are all connected at the end of the day, even if you live in the Northern Hemisphere).
By Justine Crowleyabout a month ago in Psyche
Adenovirus on the Rise: What You Need to Know About the Silent Virus Spreading Fast
Why Doctors Are Warning About Adenovirus Infections Adenovirus is not a new virus, but lately it has been gaining renewed attention from doctors, parents, and public health experts. Reports of rising adenovirus infections—especially among children—have raised concerns worldwide. While many people think of it as just another cold virus, adenovirus can sometimes cause serious illness if ignored.
By Waqar Khan2 months ago in Psyche
