Mental crises is so stigmatized; it generates more crisis. When you’re a teenager in a eastern society, out for your very existence, a person to talk some sense into you is all you need. I needed one of those. Although everyone had great ideas of combatting my “broken self”. Friends and relatives suggesting prayers, movies, art, music, vacation and everything far and in between. My mother is the ultimate foundation of my today chirpy self. She conned me into all this therapy stuff because deep down, she knew what I needed to fix myself back. After a series of events, when I finally saw a therapist, I was hopeful. This doc was great. I saw him twice a week and it got easier to open up as days passed by. He was of the South Indian descent who spoke no Nepali and had a very strong accent when he spoke English. So, my perception started twirling. I was fortunate enough to have a private school education that made me proficient in English so I could lay it all out and plan rec...