I shake my head slowly. “I… don’t think I want to.”
It’s not that I hate the idea of seeing a psychiatrist. I know it’s probably the right thing to do. But the thought of confessing my demons out loud feels terrifying. And if Kavya finds out, she’ll start overthinking, convinced I’m still falling apart.
I let out a shaky breath. And Sidharth…
My lips curl into a conflicted smile just thinking about him. He’ll drive me insane. He’ll hover like I might crumble at any second. Even today, convincing him to wait outside while Ifinished this session felt like a battle. He looked at me like I was about to disappear.
I nibble on my lower lip as another fear creeps in.What if… what if no amount of talking can fix me? What if this is just who I’m now—broken, scared, not fully me anymore? What if this is as healed as I’ll ever get?
As if sensing the storm of thoughts swirling inside me, Dr. Tanushree’s gentle voice cuts through, pulling me back to the present.
“Nisha,” she says softly, “you don’t have to decide right now. But I want you to think about it. Not from a place of fear, but from a place of hope.”
I shift in my seat, uneasy under the gentleness of her words as she continues. “You’ve fought through so much already. This next step doesn’t make you weak. And it definitely doesn’t mean you’re broken beyond repair. It just means you’re choosing to heal, fully, not just on the outside, but from within.”
She leans back slightly, her eyes never leaving mine. “Just try one session. And if you still feel it’s not for you, we’ll talk again. But don’t shut the door on something that might help you breathe a little easier.”
Her words settle over me like a warm blanket, not demanding, not pushing, but just gently reminding me that maybe my demons aren’t forever. But right now, I don’t want to think about therapists or inner healing. Not when the scars still feel too raw.
I clear my throat and force a small smile, changing the subject. “I actually… I did my B.Com before the accident,” I say, picking at an invisible thread on my sleeve. “I was in the middle of applying to MBA programs when everything fell apart. But these past few days have got me thinking… that maybe I can go back to where I left off. Maybe that’s where I can start afresh.”
Dr. Tanushree’s eyes light up. “That’s wonderful, Nisha. Getting back to your studies will not only give you direction, but also help bring structure and rhythm back into your days.”
A bitter smile tugs at my lips. “But Doc, that’s the problem. Every time I think about going back to being normal, this fear grips me. What if I break down in the middle of college? What if I can’t sit through the lectures? What if I’m just not ready, and everything falls apart again?”
Dr. Tanushree’s expression doesn’t waver; if anything, it softens further. “That’s exactly why I suggested you speak with Dr. Malhotra,” she says gently, then pauses. “But if you’re not comfortable with that right now, it’s okay. You don’t have to force it. You can start small, maybe with online classes, at your own pace.”
I let out a shaky breath, frustration seeping into my bones. “I used to be so confident, so sure of everything. And now? Now I second-guess even stepping out of the house.”
Dr. Tanushree leans forward slightly, her gaze steady and thoughtful. “You’re right. You’re not the same girl you were before the coma. But don’t forget, you have survived and fought your way back. And that strength is still in you, even if it feels buried right now.”
I sit with her words, letting them sink in. A part of me wants to believe them, to reach out and hold onto that strength she sees in me. But another part… it still feels like I’m standing on shaky ground.
“I hope you’re right,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. “Because there are days when I don’t feel strong at all.”
Dr. Tanushree gives a small, understanding smile. “That’s okay, Nisha. Don’t rush yourself. This isn’t a race. You’re not trying to prove anything to anyone, not even to yourself. Start small.”
She reaches for a notepad on her desk and scribbles something down before sliding it towards me. “This is the contact of one of my patients, Mr. Tiwari. He runs an online MBA program. You don’t have to decide anything today, but if resuming your studies is something you’re considering, or even if you just want to explore the possibility, you can reach out to him.”
Her gaze locks on mine. “And remember, you’re already doing more than you realise. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Let your mind ease back into that world, little by little.”
I sit quietly for a moment, staring at the piece of paper with the number she’d just scribbled. I want to be her again, the girl I used to be. The one who knew exactly where she was going, who moved through the world with certainty.
With that thought, my mind drifts back to my college days—buried in textbooks, arguing case studies in classrooms, laughing with classmates in the hallway. Now, it all feels like a dream from another lifetime… distant, almost impossible, but not entirely out of reach.
“You… you really think I should start?” I ask, looking up at her. My voice is soft, uncertain, but a little hopeful too.
Her smile deepens, and she gives me a warm look. “Yes. Start slow. Give yourself an hour each day to explore more options. Browse programs, read some alumni reviews, and maybe join a few student forums. Just dip your toes in and see where it leads.”
I nod and slowly rise from the chair. “Thank you,” I say softly, meeting her eyes. “Really… for everything. For listening. For understanding.”
There’s a lump in my throat, lodged somewhere between my chest and my voice. It takes everything in me to keep going without letting it break through. “I know I said I’m not ready to talk to a psychiatrist,” I add, fiddling with the strap of my bag,“but if someday it all gets too much, can I… can I call you? Or maybe come back just to sit here like today, and talk?”
Her smile softens, turning tender in a way that makes my heart ache a bit.
“Nisha,” she says and rises from her seat. Then, she walks around the desk and gently places a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not just a patient to me. Somewhere along the way, I don’t even know exactly when it happened, but you started to feel like a daughter.”
My lips tremble. “You’ve been more than just a doctor to me. I don’t think I would’ve made it through those early sessions without you.”
