Notes From The Newly Diagnosed – Depressed & Anxious
I was diagnosed. I’m still the same person. Or am I? I have new words. And as I lose the ones that were longtime mine, I grasp them to cope.
I was diagnosed. I’m still the same person. Or am I? I have new words. And as I lose the ones that were longtime mine, I grasp them to cope.
In India, you’re not allowed to be a woman who can’t cook. The pandemic brought me ways to navigate this and a new appreciation of food.
Versova is one of the oldest fishing villages in Mumbai. It is also home to Bollywood hopefuls. And there is a beach, less glamorous than Marine Drive, less known than Juhu.
Our value as human beings is determined by our use. What happens to the things that make us human in this capitalist world? Mental health suffers.
We are all angry. Seething and out for blood. Where do we go from here? The pandemic has been the arsenic cherry on the difficult lessons of a decade.
The second dark COVID of my soul is here except it doesn’t feel quite as dark. I feel stupid and it is peaceful.
My post-COVID reflections in autorickshaws confront privilege, embrace Mumbai’s diversity, discover shared poetry transcend languages.
Post COVID, life is uncertain but it’s an open road. Everything is a lesson, every meeting is a gift.
From COVID grip to recovery, my journey unveils lessons in patience and gratitude. Navigating health challenges and finding kindness in unexpected places.
For JD It’s coming on an year since our last conversation. A week when we were negotiating our definitions of intimacy, proximity, boundaries & identity. Sadly, I don’t even have the records of that any more. My phone crashed abruptly, last month. This is the same phone that you helped…