Latest news with #inPsychology
Perth Now
5 days ago
- General
- Perth Now
I'm drifting from my long-term partner. Should we break-up?
I've been with my partner for years, and from the outside, everything looks fine, we live together, we don't fight often, and we share responsibilities. But lately, I've felt… lonely. Like we're drifting apart even though we're right next to each other. Is this normal? And more importantly, what can I do about it? First things first: **yes, it's absolutely normal** but that doesn't mean it has to stay that way. You can be in a long-term, committed relationship, share a mortgage, raise kids, tag each other in memes, and still feel emotionally isolated. And you're not alone: a 2023 study published in Frontiers in Psychology found that nearly 1 in 4 people in relationships experience emotional loneliness at some point, even when things seem 'fine.' This isn't about the absence of love, it's often about the absence of emotional connection. So… why do we feel lonely when we're not alone? The answer is simpler than you'd expect: We stop being curious about each other. It's easy to fall into the trap of 'I already know them.' But relationships thrive on continued curiosity. When conversations become purely logistical, 'Did you pay that bill?' 'Who's picking up the groceries?', intimacy can quietly erode. Secondly, our 'love languages' typically don't match up. You might crave quality time or words of affirmation, while your partner thinks doing the dishes is showing love. If you're not receiving love in the way you understand it, you'll feel emotionally undernourished, no matter how much is being given. Finally, disconnection creeps in gradually. Emotional distance often grows in silence. When we stop checking in, stop touching base, or ignore that tiny voice saying, 'something feels off,' we build parallel lives instead of an intertwined one. You're together… but not really together. So what can you do? Start with a gentle check-in. Say something like: 'I've been feeling a bit disconnected lately, and I miss us. I'd love to reconnect more, would you be open to talking about it?' This isn't to blame. It's an invitation. Take the time to relearn your partner's love language. Use this opportunity to ask each other: 'What makes you feel most loved by me?' You might be surprised by the answer. Then commit to small, daily actions in that language, even 5 minutes of intentional affection can go a long way. Create micro-moments of connection. Connection doesn't require grand gestures. It's built in the tiny moments, making eye contact over coffee, touching their arm as you pass by, or sending a midday 'thinking of you' text. These small sparks add up. Don't be afraid to get support. Sometimes, disconnection stems from deeper patterns, old wounds, communication issues, stress. Couples therapy or coaching can offer a safe space to rewire those dynamics (you know where to find me!). Feeling lonely in a relationship doesn't mean it's doomed, it means your heart is craving more. Because after all, more closeness, more being seen, more being known. And the good news? It's never too late to find your way back to each other. You're not alone in feeling alone and reaching out is already the first step home. Your Bestie, Amanda Amanda Lambros is a sexologist and relationship coach with almost two decades of experience who takes pride in her 'no b-s' approach to solving your problems. She is also a certified speaking professional and has written several books on relationships, health and business which have sold more than 150,000 copies. Do you have a question for Amanda? Email heybestie@ (don't worry, we won't publish your name!)
Yahoo
29-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
If You've Never Had A Close Friend, You'll Relate To These Emotions
There's a quiet ache of never having that 'person'—the one who knows your inside jokes, your coffee order, the name of your childhood pet. If you've never had a close friend, you know how it feels to float through life like an outsider, wondering if you're missing some secret ingredient everyone else just… has. These aren't just minor annoyances—they're deep, unsettling reminders of how isolating life can feel when you've never had a real, ride-or-die friend. If any of these 13 struggles resonate, you're not alone—there are more of us out here than you think. You've been there—invited to the group hangout, but always slightly on the edge. As explained by New View Advice in their episode "Why am I Triggered by Being a Third Wheel?", feeling like a third wheel can trigger deep feelings of sadness, jealousy, and not being enough, especially when you struggle with the insecurity of not belonging or fitting in Over time, that outsider feeling becomes a quiet, heavy ache. It's not loud enough to explain to anyone, but it leaves you wondering if you'll ever have that effortless, seen-and-loved kind of connection that others seem to have by default. When something goes wrong—your car breaks down, you get bad news, or you just need to vent—you freeze. There's no go-to person, no 'drop everything and be there' friend in your life. So you sit with the chaos alone, scrolling through your contacts, realizing you can't think of a single name to call without it feeling weird. It's a sharp, isolating moment that makes you question whether you're doing life wrong. You don't just feel lonely—you feel untethered, like everyone else has a safety net and you're free-falling alone. People talk about 'the group chat' like it's this sacred space of memes, support, and endless banter—but you wouldn't know. According to a study published in Frontiers in Psychology, social exclusion—including being ignored or left out of group interactions like group texts—can significantly impact individuals' sense of belonging and meaning in life, making those excluded feel like outsiders who struggle to explain their experience to others That absence can feel like a silent exclusion, a reminder that you're on the outside looking in. And the worst part? You can't even explain that to anyone, because who would you even tell? When you do try to build a connection, you overthink every text, every comment, every like. Did you come on too strong? Did you say something weird? Should you have waited longer to reply? The self-doubt spirals until you end up pulling back, just in case. The fear of being 'too much' is rooted in the belief that people will leave if they see the real you. So you shrink, stay small, and tell yourself it's safer this way—even though it's also unbearably lonely. At parties or gatherings, you try to join conversations, but it feels like no one notices you. People smile politely, but no one lights up when you walk into the room. You feel like background noise—pleasant enough, but never the person they can't wait to talk to. It's a subtle, aching kind of invisibility. Research from neuroscientists at Sweden's Karolinska Institutet found that the perception of having an invisible body can reduce social anxiety and the stress of being the center of attention, suggesting that feeling invisible affects how we process social cues and anxiety. Small talk feels like an endless loop you can't escape. You want to get deeper—to talk about real fears, dreams, and the messy, complicated stuff—but those conversations never seem to happen for you. It feels like everyone else has their person to confide in, and you're stuck in surface-level connections. That longing for depth leaves you feeling like there's a whole part of you that no one ever gets to see. It's like you're living in grayscale while everyone else is in full color. You tell yourself maybe you're too quiet, too weird, too intense. Maybe you missed some social milestone or didn't learn the friendship playbook. You start to believe that if you were friend material, you'd have a bestie by now—and that belief eats away at your confidence. As noted by Walden University, research shows that factors like introversion, shyness, fear of rejection, and lack of trust can hold people back from making new friends. The difficulty isn't about being broken but about overcoming internal obstacles and understanding that friendships take time and effort to develop, sometimes requiring 120 to 160 hours of shared time to move from casual acquaintances to close friends. Scrolling through photos of people laughing together, traveling together, showing up for each other—it stings. You tell yourself not to be bitter, but there's a part of you that aches for what you've never had. And then the guilt creeps in: Why can't you just be happy for them? It's a double-edged pain—longing for connection while also feeling ashamed for wanting it so badly. And that shame? It keeps you stuck in a loop of isolation. When someone does show interest in you, it's hard to trust it. You wonder if they like you, or if they're just being polite. You question their intentions, waiting for the other shoe to drop—because deep down, you don't believe you're someone people stick around for. That mistrust makes it hard to relax into potential friendships. You self-sabotage without even realizing it, keeping people at arm's length even as you crave closeness. Without a close friend, you learn to handle everything on your own—your emotions, your logistics, your struggles. You pride yourself on being 'low-maintenance,' but the truth is, you don't have a choice. There's no one to lean on, so you carry it all yourself. This independence can look like strength, but underneath, it's a quiet exhaustion. You're not choosing self-sufficiency—it's a survival mechanism. When you've never had a close friend, opening up feels like exposing yourself to rejection. Vulnerability isn't just scary—it feels dangerous. So you keep conversations light, deflect with humor, or act like you're fine, even when you're not. But that armor comes at a cost. It keeps you safe, but it also keeps you lonely, trapped in the very isolation you wish you could escape. You're so used to figuring it out on your own that asking for help feels like admitting failure. You don't want to be a burden, so you tell yourself it's easier to just handle it—even when you're drowning. This reluctance isn't just about pride—it's about not having anyone who feels like a safe, reliable landing place. And that absence is a quiet heartbreak all its own. There are moments—late at night, scrolling through social media, or sitting quietly at a café—when the loneliness hits you hard. You wonder if this is just who you are, if some people just… don't get to have that kind of closeness. It's a thought that makes your chest ache in a way you can't explain. But here's the truth: it's not too late. The story isn't over. You're not destined to be alone forever, and the first step is giving yourself grace for how much this hurts.
Yahoo
22-05-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
13 Ways To Make Peace With The Idea Of Death If You Obsess Over It
Thinking about death doesn't make you morbid—it makes you aware. But when that awareness tips into obsession, anxiety, or dread, it can start to pull you away from life itself. The irony is that in fearing death too much, we forget how to live. This list isn't about toxic positivity or forcing yourself to 'let go.' It's about reframing, reconnecting, and finding small ways to hold space for the unknown. Because peace with death doesn't come from avoidance—it comes from curiosity, courage, and quiet acceptance. You're not weird or broken for thinking about death often. Most people do—they just don't say it out loud. Fear of mortality is baked into being conscious. The key is recognizing that your obsession is an attempt at control, not a sign of instability. Research published in Frontiers in Psychology on Lester Fear of Death highlights the Revised Collett-Lester Fear of Death Scale (CL-FODS) as a commonly used assessment tool for measuring fears of death across different cultural backgrounds. Once you accept the fear as part of the human condition, it softens. You don't have to fight it—you just have to stop letting it take over. Is it pain? The unknown? Disappearing? Leaving loved ones behind? The concept of death is vast—your fear is probably more specific. When you clarify the real fear, you can begin to untangle it. Specific fear is manageable. Vague dread isn't. According to an essay by Oliver Sacks published in The Marginalian, he confronted death with courageous curiosity and radiant lucidity, showing that death can be approached with grace and understanding rather than fear or denial. This perspective aligns with the idea that reading the works of authors like Sacks can help make the conversation about death more accessible and less intimidating. Reading other perspectives can disarm your fear by making the conversation more accessible. Death becomes less of a looming monster and more of a shared transition. And that shift matters. Sit quietly and ask yourself, What if this moment is enough? Not forever. Just now. Breathe into the idea that your existence is happening right here, right now. As explained in a recent study published by the International Journal for Multidisciplinary Research, mindfulness practices help reduce death anxiety by encouraging present-moment awareness and a non-judgmental attitude toward thoughts and feelings. Mindfulness doesn't erase fear—it helps re-center you in life. The more present you are, the less power hypothetical endings have. Peace lives in the now, not the what-if. Say the scary thing out loud. The more death stays hidden, the more monstrous it becomes. Sharing your thoughts with someone compassionate can instantly reduce the intensity. Death loses some of its edge when it's held in community. When it's not taboo, it's less terrifying. You don't have to carry existential dread alone. In a comprehensive review published in the journal Mortality, researchers discuss various traditional and innovative interventions for addressing fear of death, highlighting that talking openly about death and dying with trusted individuals is a key therapeutic approach that can reduce death anxiety and related distress. Write, paint, record, plant, build. Legacy doesn't have to be epic—it just has to feel real. Creating something is an act of defiance against impermanence. It says, I was here. It reminds you that death isn't erasure—it's transition. And that your impact can ripple quietly after you're gone. Watch the leaves fall. Observe decay, rebirth, and impermanence without panic. Nature is the most honest teacher about the life-death cycle. When you're in nature, death doesn't feel like failure. According to research published in Scientific Reports, a stronger connection to nature is linked to lower levels of stress and anxiety. It feels like rhythm. And rhythm is far less scary than chaos. You can't control when or how you die—but you can control how you live today. What do you say? What do you notice? What do you protect? Leaning into these micro-choices gives you a sense of agency. And agency is what obsessive fear often lacks. It reminds you that you do have power—even when the end is out of your hands. Dark humor isn't disrespect—it's a form of emotional ventilation. Laughing at the absurdity of mortality doesn't mean you're in denial. It means you're human. Jokes about death, when used wisely, create distance between fear and identity. You stop being the person who's afraid of dying, and become someone who can hold both fear and levity. That's healing. Buddhism, Stoicism, existentialism, even physics—there are hundreds of frameworks that address death with depth and compassion. You don't have to adopt a belief system. But exploring one might offer language and metaphors that soften the fear. Perspective helps shrink the panic. It adds texture to something that often feels blank and bottomless. You're allowed to search for meaning, even if it keeps evolving. Obsession usually points to something you haven't fully processed: unresolved grief, unmet desires, or fear of not fully living. Death anxiety is often life anxiety in disguise. Ask yourself: What do I still want to experience, say, feel, or change? The fear might be a mirror, not a sentence. And reflection can turn dread into direction. Make a list of things that bring you joy, ground you, and matter to you. Not because you're planning to die, but because you're remembering you're still here. A fear of death often means you haven't fully acknowledged what you're alive for. This isn't morbid—it's clarifying. It roots you in value. And that's the antidote to existential spiraling. You don't need to be fearless. You just need to be willing to live anyway. Peace isn't total elimination of fear—it's knowing that fear doesn't have to run the show. You're not broken for feeling anxious about death. You're awake. And that awareness, if held gently, can become the reason you live with more meaning, not less.
Time of India
04-05-2025
- General
- Time of India
How to give super boost to the brain using language as per Sadhguru
It's easy to overlook how powerful the brain truly is. Every word spoken, every sentence understood, every emotion communicated through speech—these are signs of a deeply complex system working silently. According to Sadhguru , one of the most extraordinary things the human brain does is language. And not just speaking one language, but mastering many. The popular spiritual leader and founder of the Isha Foundation has spoken about how the brain can be supercharged simply by learning and engaging with multiple languages. It's not a motivational quote—it's rooted in how the brain works, develops, and transforms through linguistic variety. Language is a full-body brain workout Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Mana Cresta 2.5 & 3 BHK | ₹1.27 Cr* Onwards Mana Group Get Quote Undo The general belief is that language is just a way to talk. But neuroscientists have shown that learning a new language activates all parts of the brain—logical thinking, memory, auditory processing, and even emotional intelligence . Sadhguru points out that language isn't merely for survival or interaction—it shapes how reality is perceived. Different languages bring different ways of thinking. For example, some languages don't even have a past or future tense. That changes how time is understood. So, when the brain adapts to a new language, it doesn't just memorise words—it reshapes thought patterns. India isn't just a land of diverse people—it's also home to one of the most complex linguistic networks in the world. With over 1300 spoken languages and dialects, it's a treasure trove for cognitive expansion. Sadhguru says no other civilisation has produced so many languages. This isn't just a cultural marvel—it's a rare opportunity. Children in such an environment, if exposed properly, could develop brains that are sharper, more adaptive, and emotionally balanced. Sadly, much of this is lost due to a lack of structured language education. Learning five languages may transform the brain In many parts of the world, being bilingual is seen as a plus. But Sadhguru takes it a step ahead. He suggests every child should speak at least five languages and be able to read and write at least two. Why? Because every language learned is like opening a new door inside the brain. According to a 2020 study published in Frontiers in Psychology, multilingual individuals have stronger neural connectivity, better memory retention, and are less likely to develop Alzheimer's and dementia in old age. So, it's not just a cultural flex. It's biological fuel for a healthier brain. New Languages can heal the mind from modern stress Many give up on learning languages in adulthood thinking it's too late. But the adult brain, contrary to popular belief, doesn't stop evolving. What it needs is motivation and repetition. Sadhguru often speaks about bringing freshness to the mind. New languages challenge the brain, keep it alert, and act almost like a meditation in motion. It's no surprise that people who continue learning into their 40s and 50s often report improved mood, better sleep, and stronger focus. What is rarely said is that learning a language improves self-awareness. With every new language, a new personality comes alive. That's not poetic—it's psychological. People think, feel, and even behave differently depending on the language they're using. Sadhguru believes the human brain thrives in diversity. Learning languages is not just about adding vocabulary—it's about expanding perception. Different languages express emotions in different ways. That means better emotional regulation and higher emotional intelligence. Sadhguru explains how to remove negative thoughts Language is a personal tool for brain evolution It's easy to think of language as a social requirement. But it's more personal than that. Each word learned, each grammar rule mastered, wires the brain in fresh ways. It boosts creativity, sharpens decision-making, and even helps develop better spatial awareness. As Sadhguru rightly says, out of all the things the human brain is capable of, language is one of the most refined and complex functions. Honouring that by learning more than one language isn't just smart—it's deeply transformative. Masterclass for Students. Upskill Young Ones Today!– Join Now
Fox News
10-02-2025
- Health
- Fox News
Positive people came through COVID much better than others: new study
New research has confirmed a common-sense conclusion — with some important takeaways. People with a more positive outlook on life came through the COVID pandemic better than others did, scientists found. Not only that, adults with high levels of "playfulness" showed stronger resilience during the lockdowns compared to more serious individuals. These people excelled at "lemonading," creatively imagining and pursuing the positive, according to research just published in Frontiers in Psychology. Study leader Xiangyou "Sharon" Shen of Oregon State University (OSU) said the findings are important because playfulness is an underappreciated resource for building resilience and maintaining well-being during difficult periods such as the pandemic, as news agency SWNS reported of the research. Shen emphasized that it's a characteristic that people can develop. An assistant professor in the OSU College of Forestry and director of the Health, Environment and Leisure Research (HEAL) lab, Shen said, "Understanding how playful people navigate adversity can inform interventions and strategies to help people cope with stress and uncertainty." She added that "this is particularly relevant as we face increasing global challenges that require realistic assessment and creative adaptation," as SWNS noted. Chronic stress, she said, is a "significant" public health concern. It's linked to a range of health issues, from heart disease and diabetes to depression and anxiety. "They actively altered challenging situations." Dr. Marc Siegel, Fox News' senior medical analyst and a clinical professor of medicine at NYU Langone Medical Center, shared insights on the study (he was not involved in the research). "Playfulness and humor, plus expressions of love and happiness, have been shown to increase oxytocin in the brain, the happy hormone that lowers blood pressure, lowers stress levels, and improves overall health," said Siegel. "Humor, love and other positive emotions pass through the deep centers of the brain (pre-frontal cortex/amygdala), which also harbor fear, anxiety and worry," he said. "So it is impossible to feel both positive and negative emotions at the same time — and the former emotions are much healthier." Siegel said that we can learn a lesson from those who were more inventive during the pandemic. "While it has been shown that remote learning and decreased socialization coupled with increased social media and cell phone use led to increases in anxiety, depression and substance abuse during the pandemic and immediately after, at the same time, families who used this time to encourage play and creative solutions can apply this going forward for better health outcomes," he said. Shen of Oregon State University, along with researcher Zoe Crawley of the HEAL lab, broke the study of more than 500 U.S. adults into two separate groups. They divided the participants into two cohorts — those with higher levels of playfulness, as measured by the Adult Playfulness Trait Scale, and those with lower levels of the same quality. They found "ways to create moments of joy even in difficult circumstances." Those who were more playful, said Shen, "shared similar perceptions of risk and protective factors as their less playful peers, but demonstrated greater optimism when envisioning future possibilities, engaged in more creative problem-solving and managed to infuse quality and enjoyment into everyday activities." She added, "They actively altered challenging situations, found creative substitutes for what was lost, viewed obstacles as opportunities … and maintained a strong sense of control over their responses." Revealingly, she said that while the "highly playful" people didn't necessarily do different activities or do them more often than the less playful people, they experienced the activities with higher quality — greater immersion, activeness and positive affect. "This is essentially making lemonade from lemons," said Shen, "and it's connected intimately with resilience." Shen emphasized that the more positive and playful people "were just as realistic about COVID-19 risks and challenges as others — but they excelled at 'lemonading.'" They discovered "ways to create moments of joy even in difficult circumstances." Said Shen, "Playfulness doesn't distort reality — it enhances it." She said that regularly setting aside time for play can be "instrumental." It provides a safe space to express and practice playfulness, she indicated. Even spending just 5 to 10 minutes a day on "a small dose of play" can make a "meaningful difference," said the researcher.
