celebrities

Stars are just like us; all about the celebrities opening out about their experiences with mental illness and overcoming personal struggles.

The Emotional Impact of Growing Up Unloved
Nina was thirty-four when someone asked her what she needed, and she realized she didn't know how to answer. Her friend had noticed she looked exhausted—working sixty-hour weeks, managing everyone's problems, never saying no to anyone. "What do you need right now, Nina? How can I help?" Nina opened her mouth. Closed it. Felt panic rising. "I'm fine. I don't need anything." But that wasn't true. She was drowning. She just had no idea what she needed because no one had ever asked before. And more fundamentally, she'd learned by age seven that her needs didn't matter.
By Ameer Moaviaabout a month ago in Psyche
When Love Feels Like Anxiety
Caleb loved Iris so much he couldn't sleep. Not in the romantic, staying-up-talking-all-night way. In the lying-awake-at-3-a.m.-heart-racing-mind-spiraling way. In the checking-his-phone-every-five-minutes-when-she-didn't-text-back way. In the can't-eat-can't-focus-can't-function-unless-he-knew-she-still-loved-him way. People said he was in love. And maybe he was. But it didn't feel like the love depicted in movies or described in songs. It felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, constantly terrified of falling. It felt like his entire nervous system was wired to one person, and if she withdrew even slightly, his whole world collapsed. It felt, more than anything, like anxiety. They'd been dating for eight months, and Caleb had never felt this way about anyone. He thought about Iris constantly. Needed to know where she was, who she was with, whether she was thinking about him. When they were together, he felt euphoric. When they were apart, he felt like he was suffocating. "You're so intense," Iris said one evening after he'd texted her fourteen times because she hadn't responded for two hours. "I was just at dinner with my sister. I'm allowed to not text you for a few hours." "I know. I'm sorry. I just... I worry when I don't hear from you." "Worry about what?" Caleb couldn't articulate it. That he worried she'd realize he wasn't enough. That she'd meet someone better. That she'd wake up one day and wonder why she was with him. That every moment she wasn't actively choosing him felt like she might be about to leave. "I don't know," he said instead. "I just love you a lot." But it didn't feel like love. It felt like drowning while pretending to swim.
By Ameer Moaviaabout a month ago in Psyche
Why We Crave Connection but Push People Away
Nina wanted someone to know her more than anything in the world. And the moment anyone got close, she found reasons to push them away.
By Ameer Moaviaabout a month ago in Psyche
The Loneliness No One Notices
The Surrounded Silence Maya had forty-three unread text messages, twelve missed calls, and a calendar so full she had to schedule bathroom breaks.
By Ameer Moaviaabout a month ago in Psyche
When Confidence Is Just a Mask for Fear
The Man Who Never Let Anyone See Him Sweat Jordan walked into the boardroom like he owned it. Shoulders back, chin up, that easy smile that suggested he'd done this a thousand times before. He made eye contact with each person at the table—firm, confident, just long enough to signal certainty without aggression.
By Ameer Moaviaabout a month ago in Psyche
The Obsidian Bloom
Elara found it by accident, or maybe her feet, numb with a sorrow she couldn’t quite name, just carried her there. A crumbling wall, ancient and choked with desperate, grasping ivy, behind the forgotten greenhouse at the edge of town. A ragged gap, just wide enough. Through it, a light. Not sunlight. Something else, shimmering, cold. The air inside hit her like a blast from a deep freezer, but it wasn’t unpleasant, not like the suffocating, humid stickiness of August. It was clean. A profound stillness pressed against her ears, quieting the frantic, buzzing static that had lived inside her head for months.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Psyche
The Weight of Cobalt
The morning sky outside Elias’s kitchen window was a flat, bruised blue, the kind that promised nothing but more cold. And there it was again, on his tongue, a faint but distinct tang, metallic and almost icy, like a forgotten spoon left out overnight, gathering dew and despair. He didn't just see blue; he *felt* it, a specific, undeniable flavor that clung to his palate, a sensation he'd carried since he was small, a secret language only he spoke. It wasn't the sweet, light blue of cotton candy, or the sharp, artificial bite of a kids' drink. This was a deep, resonant blue, the taste of profound distances, of quiet sadness, of things left unsaid.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Psyche
The Muffled Scream
The clock read two-seventeen. Not that it mattered. Time had a way of blurring when every day felt like a repeat of the last, a faded carbon copy. Arthur sat in the dark living room, a cold cup of coffee by his elbow, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only thing keeping the house from absolute dead silence. Then it hit him, a different kind of quiet. A heavy, plush quiet. He knew, without looking, that it was snowing.
By HAADI2 months ago in Psyche
The Static Hum
The air on the platform tasted like old rust and forgotten rain. Elias pulled the collar of his threadbare coat tighter, the fabric scratching at his neck. His duffel, one measly bag, felt lighter than the hollow ache in his chest, an ache that had burrowed deep and set up shop weeks ago. He watched the train pull in, a long, dark serpent of ancient steel, its breath a sigh of steam that dissipated quickly into the cold, a fleeting ghost in the fading light. This was it. The last one. The one to wherever.
By HAADI2 months ago in Psyche
The Wearying Of Life. Top Story - December 2025.
Have you felt it? The change in the feeling of life? The constant feeling of being physically and mentally tired? The fatigue that crept insidiously into our lives?
By Dr. Cody Dakota Wooten, DFM, DHM, DAS (hc)2 months ago in Psyche
Dialogues Across Time. AI-Generated.
I feel we are at the corner of something revolutionary and yet evolutionarily necessitated. Some psychologists acknowledge only the past century as a time for our field when it has been alive and well, but giving credit to the late Charles Darwin means first acknowledging the agencies that formed out of novel curiosity, which would eventually call the field home. Psychology evolves, sometimes quickly, but the questions at its core remain the same.
By Inner Terrain w/ Daniel Chapman2 months ago in Psyche
Leave Your Past Behind
Once upon a time, there was a bird in the forest. This bird was very kind and beautiful. But for a while, it started doing something strange. Every day, whatever it saw, heard or felt, good or bad, it would write down on small stones. Then it would store them in a small bag and fly away. Whether the memory was happy or sad, the bird believed that every moment was worth remembering. It became a habit and even found pleasure in it. It believed that beautiful memories should be preserved forever because such moments may never come back. Even bad experiences were meant to teach it something, so they should be written down too. First of all, it was pleasant for the bird. Every day he would write his experiences on the stones and fill the bag. But as time passed, this habit became stronger. The bag was filled with new stones every day. As a result, it became difficult for the bird to fly. Still, he still believed that all these memories would come in handy one day. That little bag became a treasure for his life. But as time passed, the bag became heavier. The more stones he put in, the heavier it became and it gradually began to affect the bird's wings. Now he could no longer fly as fast or high as before. One day on the way, the bird met a wise old owl. "Little bird," the owl asked, "why did you carry this bag?" The bird smiled and replied, "This bag contains everything in my life, all its joys and sorrows, every lesson from my past." The owl bowed its head and said, "So are you alive in the present? Or are you flying with the weight of yesterday's memories?" The bird did not understand. It flew away. But this time, the flight felt heavier and more painful. Weeks passed. Now the bag was full. The bird could barely lift it off the ground. Its wings ached. It had no strength left. Still, it dragged the bag with it as it walked. One rainy day, as the bird tried to move forward, it slipped. The weight of the stones crushed its fragile body. It lay still, buried under the memories that it once considered the key to its survival. But now those memories had destroyed it. When the rain stopped, some birds flew away. But the little bird had already flown away. Before long, the owl arrived. It looked at the silent bird with sadness in its eyes and whispered, "Memories are there to guide us, not to burden us." This short story teaches us a powerful lesson. Good or bad, memories should be left in the past. We should learn to let go and move on. We should not keep everything with us. We often do that. We collect every little memory, good or bad. But if we carry the burden of the past every day, eventually we will get tired inside. We fail to enjoy the present and cannot move forward into the future. Like birds, many people cling to the pain or even the joys of the past for too long. But life is all about letting go. We cannot get back what we have lost. But we can make our day beautiful. So let go of the past, good or bad, and learn to live in the present. Because we cannot change tomorrow, but we can shape today. Try new experiences, do something new, and create something meaningful in our life. Forgive, forget, move on, feel something new, take new steps, and be at peace.
By Abdur Rahman2 months ago in Psyche