“I tried my best to fit but ended up as a square peg in a round hole.” 

– Prabhu, 3BHK (2025)

 If there’s one Tamil film this year that deserves to be archived not just in IMDb, but in the syllabus of social psychology and cultural studies, it’s Sri Ganesh’s “3BHK.” Quietly released this July, the film has taken many by surprise, not because it’s tawdry or for its cinematic bravado. What makes it exceptional is its refusal to treat emotional suffering as background noise. 3BHK doesn’t just tell a story; it documents a condition, the quiet, cumulative burnout of obedience and the refusal of freedom to thought and choice.

At first glance, 3BHK unfolds like a modest family drama set in 2000s Chennai. A father, a dream, and the long road to home ownership. Beneath this domestic realism lies a slow-burning thesis on mental health, systemic compromise, and the silent emotional injuries sustained by South Asia’s middle class. For those of us working at the intersection of mental health, neuroscience, systems, and culture, the viewing experience goes beyond empathy. I heard the voices of those who live with pain but lack the words to name it. The characters didn’t feel fictional; they felt intimate, like you, me, and the neighbours we pass every day.

A Dream Too Heavy for One Household

 The film follows the Vasudevan family. Vasudevan is an accountant. Shanthi, his wife, is a homemaker. Prabhu, their teenage son, the assumed future provider. Aarthi, their bright daughter, carries her own share of quiet responsibilities through sacrifices. Their dream is simple: save enough to buy a 3-bedroom apartment. As they say, owning a house is about pride and honour in one’s life, but to get there, everyone must push beyond their emotional and physical limits.

Shanthi begins preparing snacks for local shops. Aarthi withdraws from private school to reduce the family’s financial burden. Her withdrawal makes room for Prabhu, whose educational choices are shaped not by interest but by employability. These are not dramatic sacrifices. They are inherited roles, passed through generations via silence, obligation, and collective fatigue. The film holds up a mirror to how middle-class families silently contract themselves for the sake of survival.  The emotional landscape of 3BHK echoes in earlier cinematic explorations of structural despair such as Kakka Muttai (2015) and Masaan (2015). Like them, 3BHK is not a story of isolated dysfunction but of a societal logic that quietly erodes inner lives. They document the emotional, financial, and generational contortions made in the name of dignity.

While Prabhu’s giving up mechanical and Aarthi’s silence in matters of marriage may align with cultural expectations, they reveal an underlying emotional conflict, the quiet cost of decisions made to conform rather than to choose. This reflects what trauma theorists call “chronic role strain”, where a person’s identity is in constant conflict with imposed expectations. The body, constantly overriding instinct in favour of survival, responds with chronic stress. Elevated stress levels, poor emotional regulation, persistent silencing of inner agency, fatigue masked as discipline. This is not a story of chasing potential but about bending oneself to fit a mould shaped by tradition, class, and economic anxiety. The emotional core of the film lands in a line that lingers long after: “ஃபிட்டாகாத இடத்துல எல்லாம் சிபிட்டாக, ட்ரை பண்ணிட்டு ட்ரை பண்ணிட்டு, கோமாளி மாதிரி இருக்கு.”  “I kept forcing myself to fit into places where I never belonged. I tried time and again. Now I just feel like a clown.”

Collectivism, at its root, was never designed to suppress the individual. Its cultural history was to provide support, continuity, and survival through shared labour and emotional interdependence. In times of crisis, it meant no one suffered alone. Yet over time, what began as support has quietly become surveillance. What once ensured belonging now enforces obedience. Individual choice is often mistaken for selfishness. Silence becomes a strategy for survival, and sacrifice becomes the only sanctioned language of love. The pressure is neither incidental nor personal. It is systemic:

• Cultural silence rewards emotional suppression, leaving psychological wounds unnamed and untreated.
• Economic scarcity disguises chronic stress as discipline, normalising burnout as virtue.
• Educational success is an outdated education system that separates aptitude from aspiration.
• Daughters are conditioned to anticipate sacrifice, while sons are primed for silent self-denial.
• Resilience becomes compulsory, while the rest is shamed, and grief is pathologised.
• Adjustment becomes a cultural reflex, not a conscious choice, rewarded externally but costly internally

It reveals the psychological toll of a system where resilience is demanded, while rest, recognition, and emotional repair are denied, or worse, treated as weakness and met with shame. The result is widespread resilience fatigue.

The nervous system reflects not only psychological trauma, but the weight of chronic compliance, and this is why mental health is not an individual issue. Mental health is not only clinical, but also relational, systemic, and generational. It is inseparable from the frameworks of caste, class, gender, and tradition. Then why should mental health models in India solely rely on Western frameworks or individualised self-help tools?

 Complicating this further is India’s underfunded mental health infrastructure. According to India’s National Mental Health Survey, there is less than one psychiatrist for every 100,000 people in many districts. Psychological services often exist only in urban centres or elite settings, making contextual mental distress invisible and unacknowledged. What 3BHK exposes is generational trauma, silent depression, and chronic compliance, that doesn’t register in clinical files. These are slow injuries shaped not by chemical imbalance alone but by structural imbalance, of access, attention, and language.  This is why 3BHK matters. It asks questions that many institutions, including some therapeutic ones, still hesitate to confront. While useful in a theoretical context, Western approaches often overlook the cultural and systemic scaffolding of distress in South Asia. We are required to challenge this model and ask:

What if the work of wellbeing lies in reimagining the structures, not in reforming the self?

• What if resilience is overprescribed to people who are already depleted?
• What if healing requires refusal, not just adaptation?

 Toward a Psychology That Fits

 Families in Tier 2 and Tier 3 cities do not experience distress in isolation. It takes shape in rooms without privacy, in marriages bound by duty, in jobs shaped by scarcity, in schools where compliance is mistaken for intelligence. These conditions should not just invite but compel a reimagining of mental health in India; one that is culturally attuned, socially rooted, and structurally aware.

Aarthi’s decision to tutor young girls, though small, is an act of agency, reclaiming purpose where systems only offered duty. Prabhu’s quiet reflection, his naming of misfit as pain rather than shame, is itself a form of rupture. 3BHK does not offer rebellion, but it does offer recognition, and sometimes, that is the first refusal. This is what 3BHK quietly offers. It does not deliver rescue or resolution. It offers language for grief, for rage, for surrender. It gives shape to pain that is not born of personal failure, but of systemic pressure and inherited endurance. 

For those working at the intersection of policy and mental health, especially in plural and unequal contexts, the film is more than a narrative. “It is ethnography, a form of evidence that underscores the urgency for change. This is a wakeup call to not just listen to individual pain, but to question the systems that make such pain inevitable. In doing so, it leaves us not with closure, but with clarity, and perhaps, the courage to name what we’ve long been taught to silence.

The Reality of Financial Strain of the AP Position

The journey to becoming an Assistant Psychologist, and eventually a Clinical Psychologist, involves years of rigorous education, training, and clinical experience. In the UK, an Assistant Psychologist typically earns around £25,917 annually, with salaries ranging between £21,892 and £31,615, (sometimes higher) depending on experience and specific roles. However, the path to securing such a position is filled with financial, systemic, and emotional hurdles.

The Journal of a Clinical Psychologist

In the UK, the road begins with an undergraduate degree, followed by a master’s in psychology, which, while not always required, is often pursued by aspiring professionals. The final hurdle is the Doctoral Training in Clinical Psychology (DClinPsy), a three-year program that, for most, is financially daunting, as very few can secure a funded place. The total cost of this journey can range from £86,750 to £87,750 over a minimum of seven years of study, not including living expenses. For many, this is a dream that comes with a heavy price, and it’s a harsh reality for those unable to secure funding.

Across the globe, aspiring Clinical Psychologists face similar challenges. In the United States, the path can span 10-13 years, with costs soaring between $200,000 to $300,000. In India, the journey is more affordable but still demanding, taking 6 to 9 years with costs ranging from ₹2 lakh to ₹10 lakh.

The truth is, that the financial burden of becoming a Clinical Psychologist often deters many bright and passionate individuals who could make a significant difference in the mental health field. Oh, sometimes if the financial burden doesn’t get to you, the lack of structured guidance might.

Why the Difference in Placements?

BPS statistics reveal that only 40-50% of UK universities offering psychology programs provide guaranteed or structured placements as part of their undergraduate degrees. The remaining 50-60% require students to find placements independently, competing for a limited number of opportunities. This highlights the disparity in practical experience available to psychology students compared to other fields.

Medical students are provided with a clear pathway of placement opportunities as part of their training. This is largely because medicine is a structured and government-funded profession, where the need for hands-on experience in healthcare settings is understood to be essential for developing competent practitioners. On the other hand, psychology students face a different set of circumstances. 

Psychology is a very diverse field, with career options ranging from clinical, health, and counselling psychology to educational, forensic, and organizational psychology, meaning that not all psychology students will pursue clinical psychology. Consequently, placements in clinical settings or other psychology-related fields are often limited and require extra effort to secure. This lack of guaranteed placements and practical experience leaves many psychology students unsure of their desired specializations, unsure of how to apply their knowledge, and struggling with imposter syndrome when they finally enter the workforce. 

Without sufficient practical application of theoretical knowledge, students and recent graduates struggle to respond to situational questions in interviews or to demonstrate their ability to handle real-world challenges. This contrasts sharply with other Allied Health Professions (AHPs) such as physiotherapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy, where placements are an integral part of the training from the very beginning. This is also why some individuals have a deep sense of “not knowing enough” even when we finally secure our first AP position.

As a result, many psychology students constantly feel like they must work harder to prove themselves in the workplace, often seeking additional training or voluntary roles just to make up for their perceived incompetence. This not only delays their career progression, as many of us question for years before leaping DClinPsy due to a lack of confidence and assurance, but it can also contribute to burnout and frustration. The pressure to constantly prove oneself, coupled with the feeling of inadequacy from the absence of structured placements, can create an overwhelming sense of exhaustion, leading some to reconsider their place in the profession altogether.

This gap between education and application also places added pressure on students from diverse backgrounds, particularly those who may lack access to networks or financial resources that would enable them to seek additional placements or volunteer roles.

Honorary Positions: The Unpaid Reality

Honorary positions often are a common stepping stone for aspiring psychologists, especially for those who want to secure clinical experience. In theory, these roles are meant to provide hands-on experience, develop clinical skills, and improve employability. However, the reality of these unpaid positions is far from ideal. Many trainees, whether in psychology or other mental health fields, are expected to work for long hours in environments that may require significant emotional investment, all while receiving little to no compensation and working a second job to earn a living.

A Cycle of Disadvantage

The reality is that this cycle disproportionately impacts those from lower-income backgrounds, who may not have the financial resources to support themselves while working multiple jobs or taking unpaid internships. The system creates barriers that make it harder for individuals without financial support to enter the field. While those with more privilege may be able to lean on family or external funding to support their unpaid work, those from less privileged backgrounds are often excluded from these opportunities altogether, reinforcing systemic inequalities.

For aspiring Clinical Psychologists and Assistant Psychologists, working two jobs has become a normalized necessity. In practice, don’t these roles contribute to a deeply imbalanced system where individuals must work for free just to prove themselves capable of taking on paid roles in the future and deeply impacting their mental well-being? Ironical right?

The Struggle for International Students

For international students, the financial burden of pursuing a career as a Clinical Psychologist in the UK becomes even more daunting. Tuition fees can often be double the amount charged to UK and EU students. On top of this, international students are typically limited in the number of hours they are allowed to work, which makes it even harder to support themselves while managing the stresses of studying and living independently, often far from family and friends.

The situation is further exacerbated when it comes to clinical training. Unlike their UK counterparts, international students often face limited opportunities for funded placements or financial support, adding to the already staggering debt they may accumulate over the course of their studies.

A Call for Change

Advocacy is needed to push for policies that would create more funded placements for psychology students, offer guaranteed clinical training in university programs, and provide more resources to universities to support placement initiatives. This would not only ensure better preparation for students but also strengthen the psychology workforce in the UK, helping to address the growing demand for mental health professionals.

The expectation of honorary roles and dual-job work is a reflection of an outdated and unfair system that fails to take into account the financial realities many aspiring psychologists face. There should be a wider push for better mental health support for psychology trainees. These individuals are often exposed to emotionally taxing situations, and the toll this takes can lead to burnout. Proper mentorship, fair compensation, and adequate mental health resources are essential to maintaining a healthy and motivated workforce in the field of psychology.

To all aspiring professionals in psychology, remember that every step, every challenge, and every moment of uncertainty is part of your journey toward making a real difference in the mental health field. While the road may be difficult and the barriers daunting, your passion, dedication, and resilience will guide you. Keep pushing forward, embrace the learning process, and know that your future impact is worth every effort you put in today. Stay focused, believe in yourself, and trust that the work you’re doing now will shape the compassionate, skilled clinician you are destined to become. To policymakers, clinicians, and professionals shaping this system: On behalf of everyone, we would love to understand the key barriers preventing aspiring psychologists from gaining the practical experience and structured training they need to succeed.

Here’s why this show is worth watching, even if you’re not typically drawn to topics like memory loss, caregiving, or…detectives in care homes.

1. Alzheimer’s, but Make It Relatable

The main character, a man grieving the loss of his wife to Alzheimer’s, is no Sherlock Holmes. But as he pretends to be a detective in a care facility, complete with a memory unit, he captures the real mysteries of Alzheimer’s. From sudden personality shifts to heartbreaking memory lapses, the show gives you a raw, humanized look at life with this condition. And yes, it somehow does this with humor!

One moment you’re laughing at a clever quip; the next, you’re reminded how Alzheimer’s steals away a person’s ability to recognize their loved ones. It’s poignant yet oddly charming.

2. The Caregiver’s Dilemma: To Laugh or Cry?

• Grief over gradual loss: Alzheimer’s is a long, drawn-out process, and it’s not just the person you’re caring for who’s changing; you’re changing too. Watching your loved one gradually lose their identity can feel like a continuous grief, with the loss happening bit by bit, instead of all at once.
• Frustration from repeated questions and confusion: Repeating the same questions or struggling to make sense of things can trigger a mix of frustration and helplessness. As a caregiver, it can be exhausting to provide constant reassurance and maintain patience when it feels like the person doesn’t remember or understand.
• Feeling invisible or unappreciated: Caregivers often work behind the scenes, sacrificing their own time, energy, and well-being to provide care. This can lead to feelings of being unnoticed or undervalued, especially if others don’t fully grasp the emotional or physical toll caregiving takes.
• Loss of personal time and identity: Caregiving can often take over your life, leaving little room for hobbies, social activities, or even basic self-care. Over time, it can feel like you’ve lost yourself in the role of the caregiver, with little time or energy to maintain your own interests and relationships.
• Anger and resentment: While these emotions might feel uncomfortable to admit, anger and resentment can arise when the caregiving experience feels unfair or when there’s a sense of having been robbed of the life you had. These feelings are natural but can lead to emotional conflict and guilt if not addressed.
• Fear of the future: Alzheimer’s is a progressive disease, and caregivers often live with a constant sense of uncertainty about what’s to come. The fear of the disease worsening, the fear of being unable to cope, or the fear of losing your loved one to the point of no recognition can all create a heavy emotional burden.
• The sense of being stuck: Caregivers sometimes feel stuck between doing what’s best for their loved one and maintaining their own life and responsibilities. The pressure to make the right decisions, constantly juggling caregiving with daily tasks, and the lack of time to process your own emotions can feel paralyzing.
• Feeling like you’re in the dark: Alzheimer’s is often misunderstood, even by those who have been through it. The lack of clear answers about what will happen next or the best way to handle specific behaviors can create a sense of uncertainty and confusion.
• Hope and moments of connection: Despite the challenges, there are moments of joy that can be found in caregiving. A smile, a moment of recognition, a loving gesture from your loved one, or even a brief conversation can remind you of the person they once were. These moments can help provide hope and motivation, even on the hardest days.
• Seeking professional help but feeling overwhelmed by the system: While seeking outside help, whether from medical professionals or care agencies, can be essential, the process is often frustrating and overwhelming. Navigating the healthcare system, understanding insurance policies, and finding the right resources can add yet another layer of stress.

The show doesn’t shy away from these heavy realities, but it also reminds us that humor can be a lifeline. For every tough moment, there’s a bit of light, a misremembered anecdote, a heartfelt laugh, or the absurdity of detective antics in a care home.

3. Behavioral Mysteries in the Memory Unit

Alzheimer’s brings its own set of “detective cases.” Why won’t Mom eat today? What triggered Dad’s frustration? The show brilliantly portrays the trust issues, behavioral quirks, and delicate dance of understanding what’s really going on inside someone’s mind.

It even touches on the care team’s perspective, how memory care staff juggle compassion with professionalism, and how much trust plays a role in those relationships.

The care team’s role in supporting someone with Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia is critical, and it can be emotionally and mentally taxing. Their ability to balance compassion with professionalism, while maintaining a sense of trust in the relationships they build, is essential to providing quality care. Here are ways to help support and take care of these caregivers, especially from a neurocognitive perspective:

Encourage Emotional Resilience

Caregiving is draining on both emotional and cognitive levels. It’s essential to support memory care staff in building emotional resilience by providing training on managing emotional stress and burnout. Techniques such as mindfulness, meditation, and stress-reduction exercises can help caregivers handle emotional fluctuations and stay grounded during challenging interactions.

Neurocognitive Focus: Mindfulness helps regulate the brain’s emotional centers, reducing stress-related inflammation and promoting cognitive flexibility, which is crucial when managing emotionally intense situations.

Foster Cognitive Health Through Regular Training

Memory care staff can experience cognitive fatigue, especially when balancing multiple patients and their complex needs. Offering regular professional development opportunities that provide updates on Alzheimer’s research, therapeutic strategies, and self-care techniques can help staff feel empowered in their roles.

Neurocognitive Focus: Continuous learning stimulates cognitive function and neuroplasticity, helping caregivers stay mentally sharp and engaged. Cognitive training exercises, such as brain games or puzzle-solving, can improve memory retention and enhance problem-solving abilities.

Promote a Supportive Work Environment

A supportive environment that encourages open communication between team members can help reduce the emotional burden of caregiving. Offering peer support groups or regular check-ins with supervisors allows caregivers to share their experiences, vent frustrations, and receive constructive feedback. Feeling heard and supported can alleviate feelings of isolation.

Neurocognitive Focus: A sense of social support has been shown to reduce stress hormones like cortisol, which can impair cognitive functioning over time. Building a collaborative team environment fosters trust and enhances cognitive performance.

Provide Access to Mental Health Resources

Many memory care staff members experience burnout, compassion fatigue, or anxiety due to the emotionally taxing nature of their work. Offering access to counseling services or stress management resources, such as therapy sessions or workshops, can provide vital emotional support.

Neurocognitive Focus: Addressing mental health needs through therapy or counseling can help manage burnout and reduce the cognitive decline that can result from chronic stress. Cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) techniques can be particularly effective in addressing stress, anxiety, and depression in caregivers.

Set Boundaries for Mental and Physical Well-Being

Encourage staff to set boundaries around their work hours, rest periods, and personal time. Overworking and neglecting personal health can contribute to cognitive fatigue and decreased mental clarity. Ensuring that staff take regular breaks and have time off allows them to reset mentally and physically.

Neurocognitive Focus: Proper rest and recovery are essential for cognitive function. Studies show that sleep plays a key role in memory consolidation, decision-making, and emotional regulation, all of which are critical for those in caregiving roles.

Use Technology to Aid Caregiving

Technology can be a great support in memory care settings, particularly for tasks like tracking patients’ routines, monitoring behaviors, or managing medication schedules. Tools like electronic health records (EHRs), remote monitoring, or communication apps can help streamline caregiving tasks, reducing mental load and freeing up time for more personalized care.

Neurocognitive Focus: The use of assistive technologies can help reduce cognitive overload, allowing caregivers to focus on providing compassionate care rather than getting bogged down by logistical tasks. This can also improve decision-making and decrease the risk of errors, promoting cognitive clarity.

Encourage Healthy Habits and Regular Exercise

Physical health is linked to cognitive health, so supporting staff in engaging in regular exercise, eating well, and getting enough sleep can help improve their cognitive performance. Offering gym memberships, fitness classes, or even organizing short physical activity breaks during shifts can enhance cognitive stamina and resilience.

Neurocognitive Focus: Regular physical exercise has been shown to increase neurogenesis (the growth of new brain cells) and improve memory, mood, and overall brain function. It also helps reduce stress and anxiety, which can impair cognitive functioning in caregivers.

Provide Space for Compassionate Connection

In memory care, trust plays a significant role in caregiving. Creating opportunities for caregivers to engage in meaningful, compassionate interactions with patients, such as sharing stories or engaging in simple activities, can foster a sense of trust and attachment. These moments of connection help prevent emotional burnout and strengthen the bonds between caregivers and patients.

Neurocognitive Focus: Compassionate caregiving has been linked to improvements in the caregiver’s mental health and overall well-being. Engaging in positive, supportive interactions releases oxytocin, a neuropeptide that fosters bonding and reduces stress.

Acknowledge the Emotional Complexity of Alzheimer’s Care

The emotional labor involved in memory care cannot be overstated. Understanding the emotional complexity of Alzheimer’s care and creating an environment that validates caregivers’ feelings can make a significant difference in their mental health. Regularly acknowledging their hard work, offering feedback, and providing emotional support helps caregivers feel valued and less overwhelmed.

Neurocognitive Focus: Emotional validation and recognition can reduce cognitive dissonance and emotional burnout, allowing caregivers to process their emotions in healthy ways. This also boosts self-esteem and helps maintain cognitive function over time.

Why You’ll Love (and Sob Over) This Show

For those unfamiliar with Alzheimer’s, The Man on the Inside is a surprisingly engaging way to learn about the disease. It tackles common symptoms like:

• Difficulty with communication
• Memory loss.
• Disorientation.
• Sudden personality changes.
• Impaired judgment and decision-making
• Visual and spatial problems
• Inability to plan or solve problems
• Withdrawal from social activities
• Mood and behavioral changes
• Loss of initiative
• Repetition of actions or statements
• Confusion about time and place
• Difficulty with personal care
• Delusions and paranoia
• Wandering and restlessness

But it also dives into caregiver burden: the heartbreak of losing someone before they’re truly gone. And yet, the show keeps it light enough that you don’t feel overwhelmed, until the tearjerker moments sneak up on you. (Pro tip: keep tissues nearby!)

Some organizations that can help Dementia UK Alzheimer’s Society AgeUK Ealing

Final Thoughts: Why This Show Stands Out

If you’ve ever been curious about Alzheimer’s, or want a crash course in what caregivers go through (delivered with a side of detective humor), The Man on the Inside is a must-watch. It’s quirky, heartfelt, and surprisingly educational.

But be warned: you might laugh out loud one moment and ugly cry the next. This show proves that sometimes, even in the darkest times, laughter really is the best medicine.

So, grab some popcorn, maybe a friend or two, and prepare for a mystery that’ll leave your heart a little fuller, and your tissues a little emptier.

(P.S. Netflix if you’re reading this, I’d love a sequel!)

The words of a graduate who flew abroad with great dedication. These are the words we hear, repeatedly, from international students who were forced to leave the countries they once called home, not because they wanted to, they did not work hard enough, but because their visas ran out. Because the system ran out of space for them. Because the job market didn’t “sponsor”. Because their story didn’t fit the timeline.

It’s a psychological rupture: quiet, chronic, and under acknowledged.

As a trauma-informed mental health professional and an international student for the past decade, we have observed a distinct psychological landscape behind the polished “back to home country” posts that populate social media. What appears on the surface as a smooth return often masks a deeper, more complex process of psychological rupture. Below, we outline five recurrent themes that emerge in clinical work with returnee students and early-career professionals.

1. Displacement Trauma

The experience of being legally compelled to leave a host country after integration into its academic, professional, and social systems mirrors many of the psychological features of forced migration. Though the term is often reserved for refugees and asylum seekers, emerging research recognises the emotional dislocation and loss of belonging in cases of visa expiration and deportation among migrants and international students (Bhugra & Becker, 2005; Sakamoto, 2007). Displacement here is not geographical alone, it is existential. The return is often involuntary, and the student’s sense of future orientation collapses with it.

2. Reverse Culture Shock

Reverse culture shock is a well-documented psychological response that occurs when individuals return to their country of origin after extended time abroad. It is often underestimated in severity, particularly for students and early-career professionals who have developed new values, identities, and coping strategies during their time overseas (Gaw, 2000; Martin & Harrell, 2004).

Research shows that returnees may experience higher levels of cultural stress than first-time migrants, due to an incongruity between their evolved identities and the unchanged expectations of their home culture (Adler, 1981).

3. Loss of Professional Identity

Professional identity is often rooted in both external roles and internalised value systems. When those are disrupted by abrupt transitions, particularly for individuals whose self-concept is tied to high-performance roles or international credentials, the result can be role confusion, decreased self-efficacy, and occupational grief (Ibarra, 2003; Costello, 2005).

The psychological impact of “status loss” in re-migrating professionals has been linked to depression, helplessness, and social withdrawal (Yoon et al., 2013).

4. Survival Anxiety and Somatisation

The stress associated with unplanned re-entry often leads to hyperarousal and uncertainty-induced anxiety, a phenomenon supported by the allostatic load model (McEwen, 1998). This chronic stress can manifest physically, a process known as somatisation, which includes symptoms such as gastrointestinal issues, headaches, fatigue, and sleep disturbances (Barsky & Borus, 1999).

Among migrant returnees, post-relocation anxiety is often unaddressed clinically, yet it correlates with higher rates of mental health service need (Bhugra et al., 2011; Hynie, 2018).

5. Shame and Social Withdrawal

When students compare their return with peers who “made it” through sponsorship or permanent residency, many internalise their relocation as a personal failure. Shame, especially when rooted in comparative social status, is linked to avoidance behaviours, depressive symptoms, and isolation (Tangney & Dearing, 2002). “Voluntary return” in such cases is often narrated socially but experienced psychologically as rejection, a pattern documented in qualitative studies of migrant self-perception (Boccagni, 2017).

Why Is This Happening to International Students?

At the root of this issue lies the disconnect between global education markets and national immigration systems. Countries like the UK, US, Australia, and Canada have positioned international education as a lucrative export industry, generating billions in tuition and living expenses each year. In 2023 alone, international students contributed an estimated £41.9 billion to the UK economy.

Students are actively recruited through marketing campaigns that frame foreign degrees as gateways to better careers, international mobility, and long-term prospects. But once they graduate, many are met with a vastly different reality. Despite having lived, studied, and contributed meaningfully to their host countries, international students often face strict visa timelines, low sponsorship availability, and exclusion from early-career job roles, particularly in fields like mental health, psychology, social care, and education. In the UK, for example, most Band 4 Assistant Psychologist or Support Worker roles are not eligible for visa sponsorship, even though these are precisely the roles graduates are qualified for.

A System Built for Revenue, Not Retention

This cycle reveals a harsh truth: international students are often treated as temporary assets rather than long-term contributors. Many find that, after paying tens of thousands in tuition and living costs, they are left with limited legal routes to stay and work, even if they are skilled, employed, or in demand in public sectors like the NHS.

This dissonance creates a structural vulnerability, one that leaves students in limbo, emotionally invested in a country that legally excludes them, and economically exhausted from navigating immigration uncertainty while job-hunting. In effect, the system rewards their presence as students but penalises them for wanting to stay, as if global learning were a one-way transaction, not a two-way relationship.

The Psychological Cost of Policy Gaps

What makes this especially painful is that most students did not plan poorly or lack ambition. Many were thriving, working part-time jobs, volunteering, contributing to the NHS or schools, building networks. In the absence of transparent post-study pathways or institutional support, they face a sudden rupture: “You are welcome here, but only temporarily.” “You belong here, but not on paper.” This policy mismatch does more than displace. It creates emotional precarity, chronic uncertainty, and lasting grief. It tells students, in both subtle and structural ways, that their contributions are conditional.

A Call for Systemic Reform

1. Visa and Sponsorship Reform for Early-Career Roles

Current post-study immigration policies in countries like the UK are often mismatched with the realities of the job market. Psychology graduates, for instance, are eligible only for roles that often don’t sponsor (e.g., Assistant Psychologist, Support Worker, Peer Support roles). These are the exact roles that feed into the training pipeline for mental health professionals.

Governments and regulatory bodies must rethink sponsorship thresholds and expand visa-eligible roles to include Band 4 and 5 NHS posts, educational and community mental health roles, and early-career research positions.

2. Integrated Career Pathways for International Graduates

Universities and employers need to work together to build bridging programs that prepare international students not just academically, but professionally and legally.

This includes:

• Clearer guidance on post-study work options
• Partnerships between universities and NHS Trusts for sponsorship-ready pathways
• Mentoring and legal support during the transition from Tier 4/Student visa to Skilled Worker visa

Educational institutions should not profit from international tuition while leaving students unsupported in the realities of post-graduation transition.

3. Mental Health Support for Returnees and Displaced Graduates

We need:

• Trauma-informed re-entry counselling
• International alumni networks that support career rebuilding
• Funding and visibility for diaspora-led mental health services

These measures will not erase the grief of being sent home, but they can soften the landing, and re-affirm the dignity of students forced to start over.

We must move beyond narratives of individual resilience and begin to address the policy failures, cultural gaps, and psychological toll that make these transitions so traumatic. As mental health professionals, educators, and policymakers, we need to build systems that honour the complexity of international mobility, not just in its excitement, but in its endings.

If you are someone who has returned, recently or long ago, this article is for you. 

Not to fix it. Not to glorify it. But to name it. To say: You are not alone. You are not a failure. You are navigating a rupture that was never your fault.

The book Staring at the Sun: Overcoming the Terror of Death (Yalom, 2008) explains how accepting and acknowledging the diagnosis of dementia is similar to staring at the sun and, shading our eyes as the emotional responses to the diagnosis. Emotional aspects such as sadness, denial, Fear-of-loss-of-control over emotions and external factors, threat, feelings of dependency, anger, guilt, burden, loss of independence, loss of hope, shame, or embarrassment, and rarer emotions such as acceptance and relief (Aminzadeh et al., 2007). These psychological manifestations are also influenced by different stages and severity (mild, moderate, severe) of dementia.

Resources such as psychosocial groups interventions, online discussion and dementia support workers, counseling/psychotherapy, adaptive coping strategies, goal-setting strategies, are all the various ways to support patients’ adjustment to their diagnosis (Cheng et al., 2020). Intense education of the professionals and expertized professionals in dementia settings have a positive role in the adjustment of PWD (Aminzadeh et al., 2007). The goal of supporting the patients is to help them adjust to their illness (Shaw, 2018). The major factor in doing so is the involvement of a multidisciplinary team of geriatric psychiatrists, clinical psychologists, social workers, general practitioners, and psychiatric nurses (Aminzadeh et al., 2007).

The living well with dementia post-diagnostic course (LivDem) emphasizes upon the role of sensitive and thoughtful disclosure of the diagnosis in promoting adjustment (appendix 2). LivDem suggests the steps of talking about the emotional distress associated with their diagnosis in a group setting (Cheston, 2013). It also emphasizes the importance of family and friends in their journey. The disclosure process is an ongoing process that can be benefited by group settings. They promote univariately and eradicate the feeling of loneliness, stigma and enhance cognitive and emotional functioning (Bender and Cheston, 1997; Pusey and Richards, 2001).

Group psychotherapy such as cognitive behavior therapy (CBT) inhibits social isolation, promotes awareness diminishing denial, facilitates the grief process (Husband, 2000). Being in contact promotes belongingness and decreases feelings of terror and confusion.

Psychoeducation facilitates PWD with making better sense, meaning, and consequences of their diagnosis. This is an important aspect promoting an increased sense of control (Parker et al., 2008). Other interventions include activities of daily living that can also facilitate diminishing feelings of self-worth, self-identity, dependency, and promote social relationships. Interventional involvement of family and friends can diminish feelings of guilt, shame, and burden (Aminzadeh et al., 2007). This aspect in return helps in avoiding emotions of anger, stress, pain, and sadness (Ducharme et al., 2009). Focusing on psychological adjustment following a diagnosis of dementia could be useful in manifestation of less severe symptoms. Moreover, many individuals report expressing various psychological benefits, less distress, a sense of relief, opportunity for betterment which results in a better sense of the future (Aminzadeh et al., 2007).

Adjusting to Dementia is a complex process for the family members but also a sensitive and challenging task for clinicians. Delivering dementia diagnosis to the patients and their family requires a thoughtful and compassionate approach. Using the revised pragmatic model that incorporates biological, psychological, and social factors, clinicians can provide a more comprehensive and supportive diagnosis. Following such structured approaches would also significantly aid in protecting clinicians’ mental health by following a structured and standardized frame work to deliver tractable factors with the involvement of an interdisciplinary team.

I will leave some resources that I have come across across my journey of working with Dementia patients, If you or anyone you know is going through the burden of dementia diagnosis.

This raises broader considerations about efficiency, focus, and the extent to which mental processes are being outsourced to technology. These reflections have motivated MindDhara to explore the psychological and neural implications of AI-supported work patterns—looking beyond convenience to understand how these tools might be reshaping attention, memory, problem-solving, and cognitive resilience in the long term.

In the last decade, artificial intelligence (AI) has quietly infiltrated nearly every corner of our daily lives. From smart assistants organizing our calendars to AI tools summarizing dense research papers, we now collaborate with machines more seamlessly than ever before. The rapid rise of generative AI has particularly accelerated this shift, making once-complex tasks as easy as typing a prompt.

However, as we offload more and more of our thinking, organizing, and decision-making onto algorithms, we must ask a deeper question: What is this doing to our minds? Are we sharpening our cognition by freeing up mental bandwidth for higher-order thinking, or slowly dulling it by outsourcing too much?

At the center of this debate lie core cognitive functions: problem-solving, working memory, attention, cognitive resilience and flexibility. These executive processes are critical to everything from academic performance to emotional regulation and quality of life. I wanted to use this space to explore the tension between cognitive atrophy and cognitive liberation in the age of AI.

The Case for Cognitive Atrophy

The idea that technology may weaken cognitive abilities isn’t new. The term “cognitive offloading” refers to the delegation of mental tasks to external aids such as calculators, sticky notes, or GPS systems. While offloading can be adaptive, some research warns of its downsides.

For instance, studies show that reliance on GPS can reduce the brain’s engagement with spatial navigation, leading to poorer development of the hippocampus,a brain region crucial for memory and spatial awareness (Dahmani & Bohbot, 2020) . Similarly, frequent use of search engines has been linked to declines in long-term information retention, as people prioritize access over understanding. One study even found that students who used calculators early on in math instruction showed less proficiency in arithmetic compared to those who engaged manually (Ashcraft, 2002).

The underlying hypothesis here is simple: less use = less growth. It’s grounded in synaptic plasticity, one of the brain’s most powerful mechanisms. The more we use certain neural pathways, the stronger they become. However, when do we stop engaging them? Those synaptic connections fade, weaken, or get pruned entirely. The automation of tasks,especially those that require sustained attention, recall, or problem-solving,may decrease neural stimulation, much like sedentary lifestyles weaken physical fitness.

The Case for Cognitive Liberation

On the flip side, a more optimistic school of thought draws from theories like distributed cognition and the extended mind (Clark & Chalmers, 1998). These frameworks argue that cognition doesn’t reside solely in the brain,it extends into the tools we use, the environments we inhabit, and the social structures we operate within.

From this lens, AI isn’t replacing thinking,it’s augmenting it. For example, offloading routine mental tasks (like data entry or scheduling) can reduce working memory load, enabling the brain to focus on complex reasoning and creativity.

Recent studies support this. One experiment found that using AI-based brainstorming tools increased the divergence and originality of ideas in creative tasks (Elsbach & Flynn, 2020). Another showed that decision-making aided by AI recommendations can lead to more accurate outcomes, especially in high-stakes domains like medical diagnostics (Topol, 2019). These findings suggest that under the right conditions, AI can act as a cognitive amplifier,not a crutch.

Neuropsychology and cognitive neuroscience research typically measure cognitive load through a combination of objective and subjective methods. Physiological measures, such as EEG (electroencephalography) and fMRI (functional magnetic resonance imaging), are frequently used to observe brain activity, particularly in regions related to attention, memory, and problem-solving, providing direct insight into the neural basis of cognitive load. Eye-tracking is another valuable tool that can assess visual attention and cognitive engagement during tasks, offering a deeper understanding of how we allocate mental resources.

In addition to these physiological techniques, performance-based measures, such as reaction times, error rates, and task completion times, are commonly employed to gauge cognitive load through behavioral performance. Self-reporting measures also play a crucial role, where individuals rate their perceived mental effort, giving insight into the subjective experience of cognitive strain. Dual-task performance is another approach, evaluating how individuals handle competing cognitive demands by assessing their ability to perform multiple tasks simultaneously.

From a neuropsychological perspective, the concerns I’ve been grappling with aren’t just personal musings,they’re mirrored in science. Executive functions like working memory, cognitive flexibility, and sustained attention are closely tied to frontal lobe activation, and their development depends on regular engagement and challenge. Neuroimaging studies have shown that tasks involving strategic planning, inhibition, and problem-solving activate networks across the prefrontal cortex (Miller & Cohen, 2001). When these systems aren’t consistently activated,such as when tasks are offloaded to AI,the brain misses opportunities to reinforce these critical neural pathways.

Recent research has begun to explore how generative AI tools impact cognitive processes like creativity and decision-making. One notable study by McLuhan et al. (2023) examined the effects of using AI-based brainstorming tools on creative tasks. Using fMRI brain imaging, they observed that participants who used generative AI to assist with idea generation showed enhanced activity in the prefrontal cortex, an area crucial for complex problem-solving, planning, and abstract thought. This suggests that AI may not just reduce cognitive load but actively augment creative and cognitive flexibility by allowing individuals to focus on higher-level tasks while the AI handles repetitive or less cognitively demanding steps.

However, the downside of generative AI usage has also been highlighted in other studies. Research by Rosen et al. (2021) found that reliance on generative AI for tasks like writing and content creation led to reduced brain activity in areas associated with deep thinking and long-term memory consolidation. Participants who used AI to generate ideas or drafts were less engaged in the process of critical evaluation and reflection, which, over time, could reduce their ability to retain and apply knowledge. This aligns with the idea of cognitive offloading, where AI tools reduce the mental effort required for creative and problem-solving tasks, potentially leading to atrophy in the brain’s executive functions.

Together, these studies illustrate a dual perspective: generative AI can either enhance cognitive abilities by reducing cognitive load and promoting creativity, or it can lead to cognitive passivity and diminished engagement, particularly when users rely on the AI for the bulk of their thinking and decision-making.

A Dual-Process Framework

To reconcile these two perspectives, we can turn to dual-process theories of cognition, particularly the System 1 vs. System 2 framework (Kahneman, 2011).

• System 1 is fast, intuitive, and automatic.
• System 2 is slow, deliberate, and effortful.

AI often replaces System 2 tasks,like researching, planning, or evaluating options. The question is: When does this offloading free up bandwidth for deeper thinking, and when does it just create mental passivity?

In scenarios where tasks are low-stakes, repetitive, or data-heavy, AI can support System 2 by allowing more focus on meaningful analysis. But in learning environments, emotionally charged decisions, or morally ambiguous contexts, AI use may hinder critical engagement, reducing the development of judgment, empathy, and metacognition.

The impact depends on how and when we offload. Are we using AI mindfully,as a thought partner,or blindly deferring to it?

Implications

Understanding this cognitive tension has real-world implications:

• For educators, it calls for programs that build digital-age cognitive resilience, teaching students when and how to engage with AI tools without dulling their own executive skills.
• For clinicians, it raises questions about how AI use interacts with attention disorders, cognitive fatigue, and executive functioning challenges, especially in neurodiverse populations.
• For designers, it emphasizes the need for co-agency and transparency. AI tools should not only be functional, they should be cognitively ergonomic, encouraging active rather than passive engagement.

Conclusion

We’re standing at a fascinating crossroads where AI can either become the greatest support system for human cognition, or one of its biggest threats. Whether AI enhances or diminishes our thinking depends not just on the tech itself, but on how we choose to use it.

The answer likely isn’t one or the other,it’s both. Liberation and erosion are happening side by side. The real task is to stay conscious, to design our cognitive environments with intention, and to train ourselves (and future generations) to use AI as a partner, not a replacement.

To get there, we’ll need longitudinal neuropsychological studies that explore these dynamics over time, and an interdisciplinary approach that bridges psychology, design, education, and tech.

Our minds are changing. The question is, are we paying attention?

Crime stories, whether through podcasts, documentaries, or thrillers, have a unique ability to captivate our minds, offering a thrilling exploration into the darker side of human nature. But beyond their immediate excitement and suspense, one might wonder: do these stories leave a lasting imprint on our psychological development? Are there long-term effects of repeatedly consuming narratives about violence, crime, and moral ambiguity? As we journey through crime stories, we engage with complex emotions like fear, empathy, and curiosity, prompting the brain’s emotional and cognitive systems to spring into action. Over time, could this repeated exposure shape our moral reasoning or emotional regulation?

Curiosity About the Mind of Killers & Desire to Avoid Victimization

The crime, mystery, thriller, and horror genres have long fueled our intrinsic morbid curiosity. There is an undeniable fascination behind understanding the thoughts, motivations, and values of individuals whose psyches vastly differ from our own, those whose guilt, morals, and fear of the law fail to deter them from acting on their darkest impulses. For many of us, having that insight into the behavioral aspect of criminals might provide a sense of control, as though understanding their intentions might help us predict or even prevent their actions. 

Humans are inherently wired to solve problems, driven by our need for safety, protection, and evolution. Crime stories tap into this natural curiosity, engaging us with their exploration of danger and moral ambiguity while also eliciting strong emotional arousal, fear, suspense, and excitement. According to arousal theory in psychology, such heightened emotional states are intrinsically rewarding for the brain (Deckers, 2018). The thrill of suspense or the satisfaction of solving a mystery provides a psychological payoff, making crime stories both captivating and addictive.

Research further supports this idea, showing that humans have a natural curiosity about dangerous or taboo subjects (Harvard University, 2019). Consuming crime stories allows viewers to safely explore the darker aspects of human behaviour, offering a sense of control over these otherwise frightening topics. The emotional highs triggered by suspense and fear are particularly rewarding, as they activate the brain’s reward centres, reinforcing our engagement with these narratives (Deckers, 2018).

The adrenaline high of playing detective 

The psychological appeal of true crime can be explained through several key concepts. First, the adrenaline rush experienced while watching these narratives is tied to the body’s fight-or-flight response. As viewers are exposed to suspenseful or fear-inducing content, their bodies release adrenaline, which elevates heart rate and increases alertness, creating a thrilling experience even in a safe setting. This is a form of “vicarious fear,” where people can safely experience intense emotions without real-world consequences. 

Second, the desire to avoid victimization is rooted in evolutionary psychology, where understanding potential threats and learning how to avoid them is crucial for survival. By consuming true crime, viewers can familiarize themselves with warning signs and improve their own sense of safety. The sense of justice taps into our need for fairness and order. Knowing that criminals are often caught and punished provides psychological closure, reaffirming belief in a just world. One such example is the popular Making a Murderer, a Netflix documentary that engages its viewers with the legal and psychological complexities of Steven Avery’s case, raising questions about wrongful conviction and justice.

Interestingly, the majority of people have fleeting homicidal thoughts, with studies suggesting that as many as 91% of men and 76% of women experience them at some point in their lives (University of Texas at Austin, n.d.). This phenomenon is explored in The Murderer Next Door: Why the Mind Is Designed to Kill by Dr. David M. Buss, an evolutionary psychologist who argues that such thoughts once served a crucial evolutionary purpose. According to Dr. Buss, the human mind evolved to address specific survival challenges in our ancestral environment, including eliminating rivals for resources, maintaining status, and neutralizing potential threats.

Dr. Buss describes that our fleeting homicidal thoughts are triggered by situations that threaten our survival, relationships, or status. However, men and women have a different concept of all. Dr. Buss highlights men are more likely than women to commit murder, often due to competition for mates or status. While women are more likely to kill in self-defence or to protect their offspring.

From an evolutionary perspective, the brain’s threat detection systems, primarily governed by structures like the amygdala, are designed to react swiftly to perceived threats. In situations where we feel endangered, these survival mechanisms can trigger intense emotional reactions, which may, in some cases, manifest as fleeting thoughts of aggression or violence. These emotional responses activate brain regions such as the prefrontal cortex, which is crucial for impulse control, and the amygdala, which is involved in emotional processing. The ability to inhibit these aggressive thoughts is a key aspect of neuropsychological development. As individuals mature, their brains become more adept at regulating these instinctive impulses, allowing them to navigate social environments without resorting to violence. This regulatory capacity is essential for maintaining social cohesion and stability.

The Role of Cognitive Development in Moral Reasoning and Crime Narratives

While there are evolutionarily driven gender differences, the motivation behind consuming crime shows differs across age groups. One of the reasons could be due to the development of cognitive functions and moral reasoning. While adults may find excitement in the suspense and the psychological complexity of crime narratives, children are often drawn to the clear distinctions between right and wrong. 

According to Piaget’s theory of moral development, children’s understanding of morality evolves through distinct stages. Younger children operate in a heteronomous stage, where morality is rigidly tied to rules and authority figures, while older children transition into an autonomous stage, where fairness, intentions, and individual perspectives become more significant (Piaget, 1932/1965).

Crime stories often serve as a platform for both children and adults to explore moral dilemmas, justice, and the consequences of actions. For children, these narratives provide a way to grapple with foundational ideas of good versus evil as they develop their moral compass. Adults, on the other hand, are more likely to engage with the complex psychological motivations of criminals and the grey areas of morality. This process of confronting moral questions reflects the evolving capacity to process ethical ambiguity and societal norms as individuals grow.

Piaget’s stages of moral development can be understood through a neuropsychological lens by considering how the brain matures over time. In younger children, the brain’s decision-making centres, such as the prefrontal cortex, are still developing, which makes their moral reasoning more rigid and authority-based. As they grow and their brains mature, particularly in areas like the prefrontal cortex and the temporoparietal junction (which is involved in the theory of mind and empathy), their moral reasoning becomes more nuanced and flexible. Crime stories, which force individuals to confront moral dilemmas, can therefore stimulate areas of the brain involved in empathy, decision-making, and social judgment. These interactions could influence the brain’s ongoing development of moral reasoning, especially in children who are in the process of moving from rigid to more complex moral frameworks.

Neuroimaging studies have shown that people respond to crime-related stimuli by showing significant activity in areas associated with emotional processing, such as the amygdala, and cognitive processing, such as the prefrontal cortex (Figner et al., 2010). These studies also indicate that the way we respond to crime stories can differ across genders and age groups. For instance, men may show more activation in areas related to aggression and reward processing when watching violent crime scenes, while women may display greater empathy-related activation, such as in the anterior insula and medial prefrontal cortex when witnessing victimization or suffering (Kanske et al., 2015). Furthermore, research suggests that as children grow, their ability to process these emotional stimuli matures, leading to more complex responses to crime-related content as their cognitive and emotional systems develop (Bauer et al., 2012).

Empathy and Mirror Neurons

One of the most fascinating aspects of the brain’s response to crime stories is the activation of mirror neurons. These neurons, found primarily in the premotor cortex and parietal lobe, are responsible for understanding and mirroring the actions and emotions of others. When we watch crime stories, especially those involving moral dilemmas or emotionally charged situations, mirror neurons are activated as if we are experiencing those emotions ourselves (Rizzolatti & Craighero, 2004). This is why we might feel empathy for victims or even understand the motivations behind the criminals’ actions, even if we don’t agree with them. These neural responses are essential for social bonding, helping us connect emotionally to characters, and explaining why we often feel emotionally invested in crime narratives.

In conclusion, scientific evidence shows us the significant psychological and neural impacts of consuming crime stories. Neuroimaging studies reveal that crime narratives activate key brain regions such as the amygdala, prefrontal cortex, and temporoparietal junction, influencing both emotional and cognitive processing. These findings suggest that engaging with crime stories not only evokes intense emotional responses but also stimulates areas involved in empathy, moral reasoning, and decision-making. 

Moreover, research indicates that these responses differ across gender and age, highlighting the developmental influence of crime narratives on moral understanding and emotional regulation. As individuals mature, their brains refine the ability to process complex moral dilemmas and emotions, further suggesting that exposure to crime stories can shape moral reasoning and emotional development. This scientific perspective supports the notion that crime stories while entertaining, offer deeper psychological value by fostering empathy, encouraging cognitive growth, and helping individuals navigate the complexities of human behaviour and morality.

While we explore the well-established differences behind the motivation of crime related entertainment, one question that still fascinates me is the relationship between personality traits and preferences for crime-related entertainment.

My enthusiasm to write this article on aphantasia came from a TikTok video and an article titled “Woman just realized that not everyone can visualize images in their mind due to a mental disorder” by Vani Khokar, published on December 30, 2022, on Scoop Upworthy. The article depicts the TikTok video, the woman expressed her surprise upon discovering that not everyone can picture things in their mind’s eye.

What is Aphantasia?

Imagine trying to recall a vivid dream as it slips away the moment you wake up, that’s what living with aphantasia can feel like when attempting to summon a mental image.

For most people, closing their eyes and imagining a sunset might bring to mind a glowing horizon of reds, oranges, and purples. However, for someone with aphantasia, the same exercise produces only darkness or an abstract awareness of what a sunset might look like. Instead of “seeing” it, they might describe it verbally, relying on memory and logic rather than mental imagery.

Aphantasia, the inability to voluntarily generate mental images, significantly affects thinking styles, primarily steering individuals away from visual thinking and toward verbal or abstract reasoning. People with aphantasia often rely on internal dialogue, logical processing, or other non-visual strategies to process information, problem-solve, or recall memories. This condition highlights the brain’s diversity in cognitive styles and underscores the adaptability of human thought processes when one modality is unavailable.

Aphantasia was first formally described and named in 2015 by cognitive neurologist Professor Adam Zeman and his colleagues at the University of Exeter. The term originated from their research into individuals who reported an inability to visualize mental images, leading to the study published in the journal Cortex. The word “aphantasia” itself is derived from Greek, where “a-” means “without” and “phantasia” refers to imagination or mental imagery. While the condition likely existed long before its formal recognition, Zeman’s work marked the first scientific effort to categorize and explore this phenomenon systematically.

The condition came to light during Zeman’s investigation of a patient referred to as “MX,” who lost the ability to visualize after a minor surgical procedure. Subsequent research revealed that this phenomenon was not isolated and included individuals who had never experienced mental imagery, leading to the distinction between congenital and acquired aphantasia.

The imagination spectrum ranges from aphantasia, where individuals cannot form mental images, to hyperphantasia, where vivid, detailed mental imagery is intensely experienced. This spectrum highlights the diverse ways people engage with their internal visual worlds, reflecting varying levels of mental imagery vividness and clarity across individuals.

Thinking in Images vs. Dialogue: Cognitive Style Differences

The distinction between thinking in images and thinking in internal dialogue stems from variations in cognitive processing styles, which are influenced by neurological, developmental, and experiential factors. Visual thinkers, often referred to as spatial or image-based thinkers, rely predominantly on mental imagery to process and represent information. This style is linked to activity in the brain’s visual cortex and tends to dominate in individuals who are more attuned to pattern recognition, spatial reasoning, or artistic creativity. Conversely, verbal thinkers predominantly use internal monologue or dialogue to process their thoughts, relying on language as the primary medium of reasoning. This thinking style is associated with activity in language-processing regions, such as Broca’s and Wernicke’s areas.

But what drives this difference?

Research suggests that genetics, education, and individual experiences shape these preferences, with environmental influences playing a critical role in reinforcing one style over the other. So far evidence points us towards results from atypical activity in the brain’s visual cortex, specifically diminished connectivity between the visual and prefrontal areas responsible for imagination and memory recall. Consequently, individuals with aphantasia might develop stronger verbal, mathematical, or procedural thinking styles to compensate for the lack of visual imagery.

Additionally, neurodiversity introduces significant variation in thinking styles. For example, individuals with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) are often more inclined toward visual thinking, as noted by Temple Grandin, who describes “thinking in pictures.” In contrast, highly verbal individuals, including those with advanced language skills, may lean toward dialogue-based thinking. Emotional states and the task at hand also influence these styles.

Problem-solving that requires abstract reasoning may favor verbal thought, while spatial or memory-based tasks may activate visual thinking. Hybrid thinkers use both styles flexibly, depending on context, highlighting the brain’s remarkable adaptability. Understanding and leveraging one’s dominant thinking style can enhance learning, communication, and problem-solving across diverse disciplines.

Relationship Between Thinking Styles and Aphantasia

What causes Aphantasia?

The causes of aphantasia are not entirely understood, but it can be classified into two types:

• Congenital: Where individuals are born without the ability to visualize. Genetic predispositions may also play a role, although direct hereditary links have not been conclusively identified.
• Acquired: Which can occur after brain injury or as a result of neurological conditions such as stroke or trauma. Interestingly, studies highlight that aphantasia is NOT associated with deficits in memory or intelligence

The impact of aphantasia on cognition varies. While visual thinkers rely on mental imagery for tasks like spatial reasoning, planning, or creativity, individuals with aphantasia often excel in fields requiring logical or structured thought. For example, they may describe recalling information as “knowing” facts rather than visualizing them. This shift is particularly relevant in fields like engineering, science, or programming, where non-visual problem-solving is critical. However, aphantasia can pose challenges in areas heavily reliant on imagery, such as fine arts or architecture, though workarounds like external visual aids or collaborative efforts often mitigate these difficulties. Ultimately, aphantasia exemplifies how cognitive diversity reshapes traditional ideas of thinking styles, emphasizing flexibility and compensatory mechanisms.

Here’s a fun task for you!

Take a moment to check whether you, your friends, partner, family, and colleagues are visual thinkers or verbal thinkers. Are you all seeing the world through images, or do you prefer to explain things in words? Then, think about how your occupation might be guiding or shaping your thinking style. Does your work encourage you to think more visually, like a graphic designer or architect, or does it lean towards verbal reasoning, like a writer or therapist?

Share your findings and see if you can spot patterns in how your job influences your brain’s way of processing the world and comment down below for a fun discussion!

In conclusion, aphantasia offers a unique lens through which to understand the diverse ways in which the human brain processes and stores information. Whether through visual imagery or internal dialogue, individuals possess distinct cognitive styles that shape how they navigate the world. While aphantasia challenges traditional notions of thinking, it highlights the brain’s remarkable adaptability and the myriad ways in which people can excel despite or because of these differences. The condition underscores the importance of embracing cognitive diversity, as it enables individuals to leverage their strengths and adapt to various tasks and challenges. Understanding aphantasia and its implications not only broadens our perspective on mental imagery but also enhances our appreciation for the varied and complex nature of human thought.

Living in the UK, where 10.9 million people in England and Wales identify as belonging to non-white ethnic groups, accounting for 18.3% of the population, one would hope diversity would breed understanding. Yet, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard statements like:

• “Mental illness is a white people thing. Work hard, stay strong, and you won’t have mental health problems.”
• “It’s all in the head.”
• “Social media made up all this mumbo jumbo.”
• “Psychology is a pseudoscience?”

At the time I might have smiled and brushed it off. However, these attitudes aren’t just frustrating; they’re damaging and detrimental to the fight for mental health awareness. They perpetuate stigma and alienate those who need help, especially in communities where mental health is already a taboo topic. 

Understanding the Disorders

Paranoid Personality Disorder (PPD)

Individuals with PPD exhibit pervasive distrust and suspicion of others. They often interpret benign actions as malicious, hold grudges, and are hypersensitive to perceived threats or slights. In some cases, they may experience transient psychotic episodes involving delusions or distorted perceptions.

Diagnosis: Diagnosing PPD requires thorough clinical interviews and assessment against DSM-5 criteria, which emphasize patterns of distrust and suspicion that significantly impair functioning. Other medical or psychiatric conditions that could explain these behaviours, such as psychotic disorders or neurological issues, must be ruled out.

Treatment: Treatment focuses on psychotherapy, Psychodynamic Therapy, Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT), Schema Therapy particularly cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), which helps individuals identify and reframe paranoid thought patterns. Establishing a therapeutic alliance is crucial but can be challenging due to the individual’s inherent mistrust. In severe cases, antipsychotic or antidepressant medications may be considered.

Support: Family members and caregivers can support individuals with PPD by maintaining consistent and transparent communication. Avoiding confrontations and respecting their need for autonomy can help build trust and reduce conflict.

Schizoid Personality Disorder

Individuals with schizoid personality disorder display a profound detachment from social relationships and a limited range of emotional expression. They typically prefer solitary activities, show little interest in sexual or close interpersonal connections, and appear indifferent to praise or criticism.

Diagnosis: Schizoid personality disorder is diagnosed through clinical evaluation based on DSM-5 criteria, which highlight patterns of social withdrawal and emotional flatness. It is essential to differentiate this condition from autism spectrum disorder, depression, or other mental health disorders.

Treatment: Psychotherapy, particularly supportive therapy, can help individuals with schizoid personality disorder develop better social skills and coping mechanisms. Treatment often focuses on specific goals, such as improving workplace interactions or managing daily activities. Medication is not commonly used unless there are co-occurring issues like anxiety or depression.

Support: Supporting individuals with schizoid personality disorder involves respecting their preference for solitude while providing opportunities for meaningful engagement. Encouraging participation in structured activities or hobbies that align with their interests can foster gradual socialization without overwhelming them.

Personality disorders, including Paranoid and Schizoid Personality Disorders, can significantly impact neurocognitive functioning and daily life. These conditions often involve disruptions in cognitive processes such as perception, thought organization, and emotional regulation. 

For example, individuals with Paranoid Personality Disorder may experience heightened hypervigilance and cognitive distortions, leading to difficulties in trust and collaboration. Similarly, Schizoid Personality Disorder may impair social cognition, reducing the ability to interpret social cues or form meaningful relationships. These cognitive challenges often translate into difficulties in maintaining employment, managing interpersonal relationships, and adapting to new or complex situations, thereby reducing overall quality of life. 

If you approach Psychiatric Treatment, it could mean antipsychotics (e.g., Risperidone, Olanzapine, antidepressants (e.g., SSRIs like Sertraline), and anxiolytics (e.g., Benzodiazepines)

The Cultural Twist

For many in South Asian or other ethnic minority communities, acknowledging mental health struggles feels like announcing you’re the first alien ambassador on Earth. The reaction? A mix of disbelief, dismissal, a sprinkle of shame, and sometimes ridicule to invalidate. This hurdle exists for all types of concerns that stem from brain dysfunction including neurodevelopmental disorders, excerpt: watch 

Stigma + Illness = Double Trouble

Imagine this: You muster the courage to seek help for your PPD or schizoid traits. That alone is like climbing a mental health Mount Everest. Then, you’re met with cultural backlash. People whisper, avoid eye contact, or worse, label you as “weak” or “broken.” It’s like running a marathon only to find out the finish line is a mirage.

Flipping the Script

Let’s sprinkle some positivity here. While the journey to understanding and acceptance is far from over, awareness is growing. Mental health discussions are becoming mainstream, and the narrative is shifting. Here’s how we can help:

1. Educate with Empathy: Bust myths like “mental illness is a choice” or “psychology is pseudoscience” with facts, but do it with patience. No one likes a condescending know-it-all.
2. Share Stories: Nothing beats real-life narratives to humanize mental health. Share your experiences (if you’re comfortable) to inspire others to do the same.
3. Normalize Therapy: Therapy isn’t just for “fixing” problems; it’s for building resilience and understanding yourself better. Think of it as a gym membership… for your brain.
4. Be an Ally: Whether it’s calling out stigma or simply listening without judgment, small actions can create ripples of change.

A Final Thought

Imagine if we treated physical health the way we treat mental health: “Oh, you broke your leg? Just think positive and walk it off!” Absurd, right? It’s time we extend the same compassion and logic to mental health. So, the next time someone questions the legitimacy of mental illness or psychology, smile and say, “If it’s all in the head, that’s exactly where we need to start.”

We are in an era where what we say, do, feel, and think is constantly being judged for both the good and bad. Some people feel that “this generation” has become oversensitive and can’t take “jokes”. While humour about these topics might seem harmless to some, in certain groups, it risks perpetuating stigma and alienating individuals who are already vulnerable. Let’s start with promoting cultural competence, challenging stigma, and advocating for representation in mental health through education, sensitivity, supportive dialogue, and culturally informed practices.