It’s really puzzling when we are unhappy, but we cannot understand why. From the outside, our life seems fine, but internally, we are not. We feel a persistent loneliness, even when surrounded by good people. We also feel empty, lacking a clear sense of our own emotions or desires. Without these internal navigational clues, we […]
In my late twenties, I looked at a mental checklist I had spent years meticulously filling out. The right education? Check. The promising career? Check. The good partner, the house, the social circle? Check, check, and check. I honestly thought that feeling great was a destination I would reach if I just followed the blueprint.
It’s late, and you’re scrolling their profile again, trapped in an elaborate fantasy of mutual bliss. Your mind calls it ‘The One,’ but your gut feels tense. Is this the deep, magical love stories are made of—or is it Limerence? Discover the scientific name for your obsession, the ‘pasta dinner’ realization, and how to tell if you’re building a relationship or just feeding a dopamine loop.
Some of us wonder how come we are bad at everything. It looks like people we know have at least one strong point: they are very good at their job, say, or great athletes, or social and funny, or gifted with an unbeatable fashion flair – you know, something. We compare ourselves to others and conclude everyone has a strong point, except us. And of course, we wonder what is wrong with us.
We are the people pleasers: warm, empathetic, non-judgmental, and helpful. We can read others and adapt…It can take a while before we realize the price we pay for making everything so easy for others.
When we are hit by such an obsession, a part of us feels in love, and another part of us thinks we are being strange. Where I am now in my experience, I would say neither: it’s a symptom of something deeper.
Being lost in one’s thoughts from time to time is normal. Spending lots of time in one’s head, thinking or dreaming about stuff, sometimes to the point of preferring alone time to living, is not.
