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Photo by Tembela Bohle from Pexels When William and Benjamin met, it was the first week of first grade at Play Elementary School, the perfect picture of a cliché American suburban school. Already worried about this new chapter in his life, seven-year-old William cautiously roamed around the blindingly bright and colorful cafeteria. He scanned the room, gripping his tray, searching for an empty table, but there were none. He examined the only tables left with just one kid. Hungry, he opted for the table with a small, white boy. After a deep breath, William slid into the chair opposite and, with his head down, unpacked his lunch. Before William could take out his spoon, the boy, who had been too busy stuffing his face into his sandwich, finally noticed William. His face dirty with jelly and bread crumbs, he exclaimed, “Hi! I’m Benjamin, or Ben. I really like your shirt!” Unsure of himself, William muttered, “I’m William, but some people call me Will.” Ben looked at him and inquisitively tapped his large chipmunk cheeks, causing William to shift in his seat as he worried he’d said the wrong thing.  “Most people with the name William,” Ben began as he carefully chose his words, “happen to be very scared people.” Both relief and offense flowed through Will as he tugged at the strings in his Liverpool FC hoodie. Maybe, he thought, looking behind him, I should have sat at the other table. The silence continued for a couple of minutes as both boys picked at their food. Feeling terrible about his comments but too prideful to say sorry, Ben muttered, “Well, that’s what my Uncle Ben says, but I’m not sure if I believe it.” “Your uncle’s name is Ben, too?” “Yup,” Ben beamed, “all my uncles are called Benjamin! It’s a tradition!” Which, for the record, was not completely true.   “How do you know which uncle is who?” “Well…” Ben said as he counted off his small fingers, “Uncle Benjamin is the tall one, Uncle Benny is funny, Uncle Ben is rich, and Uncle Benjo is the youngest!” A smile tugged at Will’s face as he admitted, “I heard people with the name Ben are bad at spelling!” Any tension was released as both boys burst out into laughter, somehow making the most sound in that noisy elementary school cafeteria. William's eyes landed on his black Court Visions taking steps down the street. Thinking of it now, he initially wanted white Air Jordan 1s, but being an eighteen-year-old senior, he couldn’t afford them. Instead, he settled on a cheaper option: Court Visions. During a trip to a local mall’s shoe store, he felt his whole body cringe while trying on the white sneakers. Strings of worry and catastrophe wrapped tightly around his small frame. No, he couldn’t get those; they would get dirty too easily. In the end, he decided to get the all-black version. Covered in the shadows of tall gray buildings in the late afternoon, William played the moment over in his head. Dark grime covered the concrete, littered with trash and the occasional piece of chewed gum. Glancing up at the sky, he could only see slivers of blue in a sea of thin gray clouds. In a way, the mood of the city reflected his own. William shivered in his large coat as a gust of wind blew through the streets. Looking ahead, a couple of other dark figures shuffled by. The corner of the street was in sight, not far away. William considered what he and Ben had said that day they met. To an extent, they both turned out to be right. Ben, who was later diagnosed with dyslexia, was horrible at spelling. However, he never let it hinder his mission of becoming a writer. He even planned to study writing in college. Similarly, as Ben had guessed, William was always scared. What he feared was vast but easy to generalize: disaster, pain, and losing things he loved. What Ben forgot to mention then was that it all made William sad. He was on his way to watch a game at Ben’s with a few other friends. It was late September, with most trees nearly naked, and the beginning of the Champions League season. William and Ben both supported Liverpool FC. William convinced Ben to support his team a couple of days after they first met. The night before, seven-year-old William, under his thin blankets, curled up and held himself, worrying that if Ben didn’t love Liverpool too, their friendship would ultimately fail. He didn’t sleep that night. Looking back, they had a good enough connection to survive, even if Ben became a Manchester United fan. Although they might not have been as close without that extra bond. “Sport,” Ben wrote in their school newspaper, “connects people on a different level. When can a group of people collectively cry for something that, in the grand scheme of things, is pointless, but to everyone there, it means everything? When can a person worry for days on end about an event that is, in the end, just a group of people kicking around a ball? In essence, sports allow humans to feel joy or sorrow, and not feel it alone.” William always thought Ben had a way with words, especially for a person who was bad at spelling. It was once again William’s job to buy the snacks for the game. He worried he might forget again. In an attempt to be a more reliable friend, he made sure that the store was on the way to Ben’s apartment. Raising his eyes from his shoes, William saw that he was finally at the corner of the street, only a couple of streets down from the store, and Ben. As he and other busy strangers collected on the edge of the street, William, anticipating uncomfort, sucked in a deep breath, curled his fists into his baggy jean pockets. The sun shone down through layers of clouds onto him as he stepped into the empty space between buildings. The moment of bliss the sun’s touch provided abruptly ended, as William’s eyes landed on the red lights in front of him. Standing there, he bit his lip as his mind insisted on continuously reminding him that he only had thirty minutes before the games started. Unconsciously, William's left foot began to tap the ground. William hated being late, and while he gave others the benefit of the doubt, he couldn’t do the same for himself. William closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to eradicate all those thoughts. His slightly long hair swung from side to side, occasionally whipping him in the face. After opening his eyes, William looked around him and at the cars passing by. He found himself judging these absolute strangers, rating their car and color choices. The worst car he saw was a small 2000s sea-green Honda whose lights didn’t work. This car also made him feel the worst. What if someone died because of it? The worry made him grind his teeth together as the bottom of his belly started to cramp. Instinctively, his right hand pulled out of his pocket and began to stroke his hair. For the hundredth time, William once again checked the light, which refused to change. His legs ached from standing there so long. Out of discomfort, William started to shuffle around the small space he’d acquired. Shuffling slightly to the left, his head tilted with his body and a strange thing caught his eye. He froze, his vision somewhat impaired by the crowd surrounding him. William peeked through to see an empty, rigidly half-opened can of black beans. It sat on the street next to him, right in front of the first car waiting at the white line. The can seemed uncomfortable with its existence, as its sharp edges clashed against the surrounding concrete. All of William’s muscles tensed, as he found himself staring straight into the face of danger, or, as others saw it, a can. Trying to appear calm, he looked at those around him, mostly finding tired, unaffected, and unemotional faces. Hopelessness started to consume him as he realized he was the only one who noticed the catastrophic can, or he was the only one that cared. He was alone, as per usual. His skin turned pale as his body recognized what was about to happen. Feeling dizzy, he clumsily pushed out of the crowd so he could get a clear view. William's head felt heavy, as his thoughts sped past faster than the car next to him. Looking directly at the can, everything around him disappeared into a loud darkness. His ribs started to shrink, the bones encaging his lungs and heart, which pushed blood through his tight veins and against his tensed muscles. Engulfed by anxiety, he gave in. Oxygen struggled to make its way to his lungs. What if someone tripped on it, and the lights turned green? Images of the person’s broken body spewed in front of him. Blood and guts. A car’s wheel would catch the can, tearing the tire apart as the vehicle flung into the intersection causing a devastating collision. All those lives are gone or ruined, because of William’s futility. Families mourning until their lives eventually end. Numerous unpaid medical bills thrown on old wooden tables. A stray piece of car would hit him in the head. Bystanders suffering brutal injuries and death. The rammed cars would burst into flames and explode. The fire would reach the tall buildings and burn them down too. Strings rolled down from the suddenly dark sky, each one connected to all the things around him. The thin strings quivered under the pressure, ready to break. Quiet whispers rotated around him, creating an earsplitting symphony. The ground underneath William shattered and fell into the dark abyss of space. The cars, people, and buildings barely floated, thanks to the trembling strings. It was all so delicate. Tears pooled underneath his eyes as he fell to his knees with his arms wrapped around himself. Eyes still stuck to the can, William was stunned, like a baby who had just been hit. The curtain fell, and the darkness disappeared, but the strings did not. Even though it was all in William’s head, when he blinked his eyes open, the brightness surprised him. He found himself peering down at the ground, examining all the little pieces of sand that made concrete. A long, sad sound bellowed out of William’s mouth as he tried to collect himself. The fear swam around him. If anything was clear to him, it was that he needed to get that can and fix everything. Suddenly, the noises of cars driving across the street rang in his ears. William shot up from the ground and ran to the edge of the concrete. He teetered on the edge as his lungs began to restrict as though he was about to be sick. Innocent cars sped across the street, completely oblivious to the danger. William lost sight of the can, which lay in the middle of the road, only getting glances of it jumping up and down between cars. “Stop!” he screamed, but no one heard him. Every flashy car that passed punched him in the chest with a new wave of anxiety. Air whipped into his face as he bent over, holding himself, desperate to keep himself together.  After a minute or less, the cars slowed and then stopped. For William, it felt like the green was on for hours, as he eventually found himself sitting on the ground holding his head. The silence, which was not complete, relieved him. He let go of his head, tipping it to face the sky. A small breeze blew into him, exposing his wet face. Unaware he had been crying so much, his hand touched the bottom of his face. It was slippery. Now wet, his hand fell to his chest as it allowed air to enter. William scanned the still street in front of him. Shaking his head, both in relief and disgust at himself, he saw the can, now lying on its side, mostly unaffected by the cars. His body started to calm down; however, instead of feeling lighter, he was heavy with exhaustion. His whole being felt numb, unresponsive to the outside world. William wearily dragged himself up from the rough concrete and stumbled towards the can. He could barely make out the words his brain fed him. His eyes were swollen, but that did not stop him from rubbing them. Looking at the cars next to him, he could see all their faces peering at him in confusion, their heads tilted with concern. He blushed out of embarrassment, worried they might consider him crazy. Once the can was at his feet, he could see the branding. On the wrapper was an old white man smiling with a bubble above him saying, “The best beans the world has seen!” Grabbing it, William was careful not to cut himself on its edges. A part of him wanted to throw it back down out of anger and because the slime was disgusting. Trying to ignore the texture of it, he dropped his hand to his side and walked back to the sidewalk. Honestly, it reminded him of the can his mom used for chilli last week. Making it back, he panted, realizing he was out of energy. His brain was empty as he walked to Ben’s, too numb to function. It was no relief though, as he was still full of emotion. Standing at the door of Ben’s house, he was relieved to finally be able to press the doorbell. It was only seconds before Ben burst the door open in excitement. However, once Ben got a decent look at William, his excitement transformed into concern. “William? Are you ok? You look terrible. What happened?” he questioned him, scratching his head. “Umm,” William leaned on the door frame, staring at the floor and avoiding eye contact, “Nothing big… we can talk about it later.” Looking at William, Ben saw his old friend hunched over with heavy shoulders. His baggy jacket hung on his tall and thin frame. Even with his face towards the ground and his messy hair, he could see William’s wet face catching reflections of light around them. William sniffed, causing Ben to grin, as it reminded him of the noise a puppy would make. However, he quickly stopped, noticing his friend's expression. Ben ground his teeth, hesitant to accept that as an adequate answer. Having known William for so long, Ben could easily sense when something was off with him. This was one of those times. It was no secret between them that William struggled, but they never spoke about it. Ben could remember so many times he had found William like this. He was familiar with the sight of his panic attacks. Images of a frantic young William hunched over crying, flashed through his head as Ben stood there powerless, unable to help him. Looking at William now, years later, made his heart heavy. Shaking his head, refusing this to be the end of the conversation, he continued his investigation. “Where are the snacks?” In truth, Ben didn’t care about the snacks, considering his parents bought some bulk from Costco. He had more than enough for a couple more games. William lifted his head, looked straight at Ben, squinted his eyes, and apologized. “I completely forgot. Something got in the way. I am so sorry, man.” Ben sighed. He lifted his glasses to rub his eyes. William was needlessly difficult, evading any question asked. But, Ben guessed, that’s true for anyone? Noises of his own mother saying the same thing echoed in his head. Before he could prod William with more questions, noises coming out of the house became louder. Dominick, a friend of theirs, shouted, “Yo! Boys, the game’s starting!” “Can I come in?” William shook his clasped hands, begging for a positive answer.  Hearing the noises of fans’ chanting and a commentator’s British voice, Ben wanted to be in there too. So, Ben reluctantly let William in. Halfway through the door, he placed his arm around William’s shoulders. Ben leaned and whispered, “We will talk about this later.”  William gave an unenthusiastic nod, feeling threatened, and manoeuvred his way out of Ben’s hold. He rushed to the TV. Ben exhaled and followed in his path. William’s hands shifted side to side as he walked, finally allowing Ben to catch a glance of the can in his hands. He stopped, confusion spread across Ben’s face. He stood there and watched William continue down the hallway, a bad feeling building in the pit of his stomach. Loud cheers from the TV filled Ben’s ears as he watched his friend walk away, wondering why William was tightly holding an empty and hazardous old can of beans. Just as quickly as Ben noticed the can, it had quickly disappeared from his view, along with William, as they turned away. Ben was frozen at the door with his head in his hands rubbing his face. You’ll Never Walk Alone rang from the TV, with every fan in that stadium, nearly halfway around the world from him, on their feet, singing along. When you walk through a storm.  His chest felt tight with concern and worry.  Every bone in his body told him that William hadn’t intended to bring that can for completely rational reasons. Who would? Don’t be afraid of the dark. Ben dropped his hands and shook his head, leaning on the cold door frame, as he whispered to himself, “This is not okay, he is not okay.” For some reason, saying things out loud always helped him process what he was feeling. Walk on through the wind.   Hunched over, he found himself repeating the sentence over and over, like a mantra, as tears burned the edges of his brown eyes. Maybe it was years of helplessness boiling over inside him or the distance building between them over William’s disregard for his well-being. Walk on, Walk on. With his eyes shut, the tears fell quickly, and Ben rubbed them away. The pressure in his chest started to lift, little by little. Ben didn’t know what he could do anymore or if he could do anything. With hope in your heart. As he began taking controlled breaths, Ben looked around and gladly didn't see anyone looking at him. Stepping to the window on his right, he took a hard look at his face. His long curly hair covered his forehead but fell over his pale skin with splotches of pink around his eyes. It wasn’t terribly noticeable, which calmed Ben. And you’ll never walk alone.  His eyes locked with his reflection’s eyes. He could remember his teacher telling him that you could see everything in a person's eyes. Ben saw many things in his eyes: worry, sadness, care, excitement, apprehension, but more importantly, he saw a glimmer of hope. He stepped back, hand now unclenched, and walked through the door and into the hallway. There was still anxiety turning through his stomach, but he tried to tell himself that everything would be okay. For now is not forever, and forever will not be like now. You’ll never walk alone.

According to the World Health Organisation (WHO), the majority of people who access mental health services have experienced trauma . Yet, trauma remains misunderstood, misdiagnosed, and mistreated. How then can we best support survivors who need holistic, relatable, consistent, and trauma-sensitive healthcare?  Source: Traumascapes I’m Isaac, a writer, multidisciplinary artist, and lived experience researcher at Traumascapes  – a survivor-led organisation dedicated to changing the ecosystem of trauma and supporting survivors through art and science.  To understand our collective mission, let’s start with the words of our founder & CEO Laura E. Fischer and art manager & researcher Sullivan Holderbach.  “Living with the lasting impacts of trauma on the mind, brain, and body makes recovery, a return to what was, impossible. Instead, we turn to the arts for new avenues that do not bring us back but forward. Creativity is not only the space where ‘what could be’ can emerge but, for trauma survivors, it is the channel through which agency can be reclaimed and embodied healing can occur.” Healing through Art as a Survivor #BlackBoyJoyGone Source: Ashley Karrell Art has been and continues to be a lifeline for many survivors. It allows us to explore, take ownership of, and tell our stories on our own terms.  As a survivor, I use dance, film, and poetry as creative tools for healing my adverse childhood experiences and mental health difficulties – most notably through #BlackBoyJoyGone, a film I co-directed with artist Ashely Karrell to explore Black men's mental health through magical realism. The process was joyful yet difficult, leaving me with questions about making art trauma-sensitive to better support myself and others in my communities. These questions led me to enrol in the Creative Arts and Mental Health MSc at Queen Mary University of London (QMUL) in 2022, and ultimately to Traumascapes.  Traumascapes Arts Collective I first met Laura during a lecture at QMUL on trauma, body-based interventions, embodied healing, the importance of art in agency, trauma-sensitive practice, and lived experience expertise.  “Healing cannot be solely thought through, it must be experienced and embodied, and experiencing in community is vital for survivors,” Laura said. And it quickly dawned on me that such a space was exactly what I was looking for.  I was subsequently invited to join the Tramuscapes Arts Collective (CAT) – a space to be in a community with survivors, gain an understanding of my own experience, and carry out bold, disruptive, and caring work through interdisciplinary art projects, publications, exhibitions, workshops, and art-based peer support.  Our first project as a collective – Julie-Yara Atz, Gavin Edmonds, Laura E. Fischer, Sullivan Holderbach, Isaac Ouro-Gnao, Julian Triandafyllou, and most recently, Ngozi "N/A" Oparah – explores what survivorhood means to us, individually and collectively, and how this changes over time.  The Living Archive of Survivorhood of Trauma  (LAST) is a living archive, currently with  12 artworks published as covers of The Lancet Psychiatry journal throughout 2024 with accompanying creative responses published on our website. It positions the archive as a gateway for individuals, researchers, and practitioners to understand the lived experience of trauma and, ultimately, better support survivors.  “To be a survivor is to search continuously for ways to resituate oneself into a world that has violently removed one’s agency,” we said in our collective essay for the journal. “LAST is a living archive because, like us, it is alive, growing, ever-changing – leaving space for discovery and multiplicity and enabling an understanding of survivorhood that is diverse, contextually responsive, and expansive.”  We’re excited to share these and new artwork at our first arts festival, from 24th–27th April 2025 at The Art Pavilion in Mile End, London. The Survivor Lens We also work extensively with our networks and communities in this same mission. In 2023, Laura and filmmaker and Traumascapes advisor, Andrea Luka Zimmerman, curated an event featuring film screenings titled The Survivor Lens: Reframing Trauma Narratives through Filmmaking   at the Whitechapel Gallery . The event, exploring the role of artists’ films in reframing trauma narratives, was also hosted by the Mental Health Foundation as part of the Scottish Mental Health Arts Festival .  Mania Akbari’s How Dare You Have Such a Rubbish Wish  takes a radical approach to revisiting Iranian pre-revolutionary cinema, engaging with actresses long banned from their own country’s visual culture, allowing them to “speak” through movement. How Dare You Have Such a Rubbish Wish - Source: Mania Akbari Similarly, Her Plot of Blue Sky  by Kamila Kuc foregrounds the often-invisible lives of elderly and marginalised Moroccan women as they reshape how they are seen in media and how they see themselves.  Leaving Syria - Source: Julie-Yara Atz Survival and transformation are central in Leaving Syria: Long Live the Youth by Julie-Yara Atz, Sounding the Voices by Andrea Luka Zimmerman, and Anti Zweena by Laura Fischer. The former follows young Syrians using music and friendship as tools for endurance while navigating forced displacement, while the latter two explore how survivors of different forms of violence use sound, movement, and image to shift personal trauma into collective healing.  I Don’t Know Your Name - Source: Julian Triandafyllou I Don’t Know Your Name  by Julian Triandafyllou re-stages the night of his assault in a way that foregrounds memory retrieval as an unsettling but necessary confrontation with past and current harm. #BlackBoyJoyGone , co-directed by Ashley Karrell and I, shifts this conversation to Black men in the UK, exploring the legacy of mental health difficulties, child sexual abuse, and healing as a community process. “I deeply appreciated, as a trauma survivor still in recovery, the care with which we were held and supported,” said one attendee, reflecting on the “very moving, thought-provoking, and inspiring” experience they had .  “I have never had two complete strangers come up to me, on the street and in a shop, to say how overwhelmed and grateful they were to attend this symposium,” said Gareth Evans, curator and host at the Whitechapel Gallery. “One that they were amazed – but delighted – could happen, and wishing there could be more.” T.R.A.U.M.A. Card Deck Our art-based advocacy also integrates survivor-led research. We work to develop new trauma-sensitive, effective methods and approaches to support trauma healing and restore survivors' self-power. We design creative and impactful research outputs in order to support the sharing of research findings and make them accessible beyond academia. One of our projects we’ve witnessed have a lasting, tangible impact is the interactive card deck T.R.A.U.M.A. (Towards Recognition of Abuse, Understanding, and Mutuality through Arts) . The cards are designed – through collaboration with Survivor’s Voices and King’s College London – to facilitate conversations about child abuse and trauma, and to help people get better at recognising and addressing abuse.  They were created by a collective of artists and researchers who all have lived experience of abuse and trauma. These cards, made for adults and young people over 16, can be used by anybody, in personal as well as clinical settings They have recently been integrated in the Tavistock & Portman NHS Trust course on ‘Child sexual abuse disclosure: how to support adult survivors (DAA019)’ and adopted by their arts therapy team, enabling more clinicians to use survivor-designed trauma-sensitive therapeutic tools and, therefore, more trauma survivors to benefit from these. These are just a few of the many projects that reflect our deep commitment to a trauma-sensitive, care-driven, person-centred approach. As survivors, it is essential that we not only honour our own voices, but also amplify the individual and collective voices of those we work with. By centring their experiences, we challenge dominant narratives, reshape how trauma is understood, and create space for healing on our own terms. Creative explorations and artistic expressions lie at the heart of our resistance. As we head towards our first arts festival, from the 24th to 27th April 2025  at The Art Pavilion in Mile End, London, we hope to continue creating spaces for understanding, hope, liberation, beauty, and healing.

Lagos — Nigeria’s economic and cultural epicentre — is a city that thrives on ambition, creativity, and relentless drive. Its vibrant energy fuels dreams and opportunities, yet beneath this dynamism lies a quieter struggle—one that is often overlooked. Mental health challenges in Lagos are as complex as the city itself, shaped by environmental stressors, cultural stigmas, and systemic gaps in healthcare. As someone who has lived and worked in this bustling metropolis, I’ve witnessed first-hand how the unrelenting hustle can take a toll on emotional well-being. However, I’ve also seen the potential for change—through self-awareness, community support, and innovative solutions. This article explores Lagos-specific mental health challenges while offering a fresh perspective on how we can collectively create a more supportive society. Source: Reddit – "Traffic Congestion in Lagos" The Unseen Burdens: Mental Health Challenges in Lagos Lagos is a city of over 20 million people—a sprawling megacity where opportunity and adversity coexist. While the city’s vibrancy is undeniable, its environmental stressors are relentless. The infamous traffic congestion can keep commuters on the road for hours daily, exposing them to noise pollution and physical exhaustion. Overcrowding in public spaces adds another layer of stress, as personal boundaries are constantly encroached upon. Research has shown that these daily stressors create a breeding ground for anxiety and depression among residents. In 2021, The Lagos State Mental Health Survey revealed that depression affects 5.5% of residents, while generalized anxiety disorders impact 3.5%. These figures are even higher among young adults aged 18–24, women, and unemployed individuals. For many Lagosians, these mental health challenges are compounded by poverty and limited access to social support systems. Substance abuse is also a growing concern in Lagos, with many turning to drugs or alcohol as coping mechanisms for their struggles. Cultural beliefs further complicate the situation. In many Nigerian communities, mental illness is often misunderstood as a spiritual affliction or a sign of personal weakness rather than a medical condition requiring treatment. This stigma discourages individuals from seeking professional help and drives many toward traditional healers who may lack evidence-based approaches to care. Access to mental health services remains another significant barrier. Nigeria only has about 250 psychiatrists serving its population of over 200 million people, with even fewer concentrated in urban centres like Lagos. Public mental health facilities are often underfunded and overcrowded, making it difficult for residents to receive timely and effective care. Many primary healthcare providers lack the training to recognize or treat mental health conditions adequately, leaving patients misdiagnosed or untreated. The systemic gaps in healthcare further exacerbate these challenges. For instance, while Lagos launched its Mental Health Policy and Work Plan in 2011 to address these issues, implementation has been slow due to inadequate funding and competing priorities. Additionally, societal stigma continues to hinder progress by preventing open conversations about mental health. Despite these challenges, there is hope. The renewed focus on urban design for mental well-being provides an opportunity to address some of these issues holistically. Initiatives like creating green spaces, improving public transportation systems, and promoting walkable neighbourhoods can significantly reduce stressors and improve overall mental health outcomes. Source: nigeriahealthwatch.com Voices from the Hustle: Lived Experiences of Resilience In Lagos, every individual has a story—a narrative shaped by the city’s relentless hustle and its unique challenges. These stories reveal not only the struggles people face but also their incredible resilience in navigating life’s complexities. Take Chioma, a young entrepreneur who runs her own fashion business in Lagos Island’s bustling markets. “I wake up at 4:30 a.m., battle traffic for two hours to get to my shop, and then work until 9 p.m., only to repeat it all again tomorrow,” she shared during our conversation. Chioma admitted that she began experiencing panic attacks last year due to the overwhelming pressure to meet customer demands while also managing her family’s expectations. “I used to think I was just weak,” she confessed. “But now I realize that my mental health matters too.” Chioma eventually sought therapy after encouragement from a close friend—a decision she describes as life-changing. Then there’s Ade, a secondary school teacher working in one of Lagos’ underserved communities. Ade has witnessed first-hand how poverty and unstable home environments affect his students’ emotional well-being. “Some of my students come to school hungry or haven’t slept because they’re sharing one room with five siblings,” he explained. “These kids are dealing with things no child should have to face.” Ade tries his best to create a safe space for his students by incorporating mindfulness exercises into his lessons but acknowledges that more systemic support is needed. Another story comes from Adebayo, an unemployed graduate who struggled with depression after failing to secure a job despite years of effort. “I felt like I wasn’t good enough,” he said quietly during our chat at a local community centre offering free counselling services. Adebayo described how societal expectations—especially those tied to masculinity—made it difficult for him to open up about his feelings. “Men aren’t supposed to cry or show weakness,” he remarked bitterly. These personal accounts highlight the intersectionality of mental health challenges in Lagos—how they are influenced by factors such as gender roles, socio-economic status, and cultural norms. They also underscore the urgent need for accessible resources that cater specifically to these diverse experiences. Despite their struggles, individuals like Chioma, Ade, and Adebayo demonstrate remarkable resilience—a testament to the human spirit’s ability to adapt even under immense pressure. However, resilience alone cannot solve systemic issues like inadequate healthcare infrastructure or pervasive stigma surrounding mental illness. Their stories serve as both inspiration and a call-to-action—a reminder that while individual strength is admirable, collective efforts are essential for creating meaningful change in Lagos’ mental health landscape. Source: Mentally Aware Nigeria Initiative (MANI) volunteers at mental health campaign. A Call to Action: Shaping a Brighter Future As Lagos continues its rapid transformation into one of Africa’s largest megacities, addressing its mental health crisis must become a priority. This requires collective action from policymakers, healthcare professionals, community leaders, and every individual who calls this city home. We must advocate for increased investment in mental health services while challenging discriminatory attitudes through education and awareness campaigns. This transformation begins with small steps: advocating for policy reforms, supporting community initiatives, or simply being there for a friend in need. Every action counts, and every voice matters. In my own journey toward prioritizing well-being amidst chaos, I’ve learned that thriving doesn’t mean eliminating challenges—it means finding ways to navigate them with courage, compassion, and resilience. By sharing our stories and working collectively toward change, we can create a Lagos where emotional well-being is no longer an afterthought but an integral part of what makes this city thrive. A Path Forward Lagos is a city of contrasts—where resilience meets vulnerability, and ambition meets adversity. Yet, it is in these contrasts that we find the potential for transformation. By embracing our complexities and leveraging our strengths, we can build a society that values mental health as much as physical health. This article has been sponsored by the Psychiatry Research Trust, who are dedicated to supporting young scientists in their groundbreaking research efforts within the field of mental health. If you wish to support their work, please consider donating.

A rather shocking discourse which has been appearing on my social media feed recently is, “Would you pick your friend up from the airport?”. You could argue that it’s not my place to speak on this, as I neither have a car nor know how to drive, but I believe it’s the principle of it, so I would actually pick my friend up from the airport. In fact, to me, the answer is obvious. Helping a friend, even at the cost of mild inconvenience, strengthens bonds and fosters community. However, many people online seem to disagree. Lately, there has been a clear societal shift in people's attitudes towards each other. Everyone is developing this apathy to the people around them, parroting the phrase “I don’t owe anyone anything”, and just a general carelessness for their community. Growing up in an individualistic country while being raised with the collective-minded values of my Iranian family, I always saw community as something natural, and helping others wasn’t a question of obligation but simply what you did. But lately, I’ve watched that mindset fade around me. What once felt like an unspoken understanding, that we show up for each other, even in small ways, now feels like something people openly reject. “I Don’t Owe Anyone Anything” The phrase “I don’t owe anyone anything” originally emerged as a boundary-setting mantra, advocating for personal rights in difficult relationships. However, in the hyper-individualist online space, it seems to have evolved into a justification for apathy, not just toward toxic dynamics but also toward acts of basic kindness and community care. It’s true that no one is obligated to drive a friend to the airport or smile at a barista, but couldn’t we argue that small acts of care and respect are essential for building a sense of community? This attitude, which elevates self-interest above all else, reflects a growing apathy not just toward interpersonal relationships but also toward broader societal issues, such as environmental crises and political challenges. This increasing disregard for the collective aligns with the broader societal trend of hyper-individualism, which is most evident in Western societies. Hyper-individualism Individualism is essentially the focus on the individual rather than the collective, and western individualistic societies generally prioritise individual pursuits rather than collective, and celebrate voluntary initiated action rather than socially obligatory commitments. At its core, individualism celebrates personal freedom, autonomy, and self-actualisation. It has been a driving force in many Western societies , allowing people to shift their focus from traditional institutions like religion or family, to personal development and emotional growth. Although collective societies can be associated with improved well-being due to increased social support , particularly decreased anxiety and depression, individualist societies have had the most growth in raising mental health awareness , as individualistic values challenge stigmas associated with mental illness. Hyper-individualism, on the other hand, emphasises personal success and satisfaction at the expense of social connection and collective responsibility. It is the tendency for people in an individualist society to consider themselves as disparate entities rather than members of a collective or society.  This mentality , often reinforced by modern digital culture, contributes to rising loneliness, declining civic participation, and a broader disengagement from societal issues. While individual freedom is important, a society cannot function without a sense of shared responsibility and connection. Photo by Porapak Apichodilok on Pexels The Role of Technology and Social Media in Isolation The rise of hyper-individualism cannot be separated from the growth of technology and social media, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic. In 2023, the World Health Organization identified loneliness as a pressing global public health concern , with social isolation exacerbated by the pandemic’s restrictions. Loneliness is  associated with an increased risk of multiple mental disorders , and it is a growing problem. Though hyper-individualism is often associated with Gen Z, the roots of this trend can be   traced back to the millennials , the first generation to grow old with the internet. As social media became central to their lives, relationships increasingly moved online, and meaningful face-to-face connections became less common. This rather rapid stage of industrialisation, from the rapid growth of social media from the early 2000s until now, further pushed by the isolation of COVID-19, has been a great accelerator in the growth of hyper-individualism and anomie . Anomie is a term which was coined by Durkheim in 1893 . Durkheim argued that as a society undergoes a rapid change, norms will be unclear, which will result in a state of anomie. He considered it a state in which expectations are unclear and the social system that keeps people functioning has broken down. However, the term liberated anomie slightly differs from Durkheim’s definition. While his definition of anomie is associated with feelings of worthlessness and despair,   liberated anomie is defined by Huang  as the disconnection from society, but not from the self. This means that people who grew up in the digital age feel free to act in their own self-interest to satisfy personal needs, without considering the consequences of their actions on society and the collective. Social norms that once encouraged cooperation and mutual care are increasingly disregarded and replaced by individualistic pursuits. The Importance of Community When we are aware of the rise in hyper-individualism and the social isolation and loneliness it fosters, we must make an active effort for the betterment and growth of the collective. Research has shown  the mental health benefits of strong social connections, including reduced anxiety and loneliness. People have already been highlighting our lack of third spaces in society, or c ommunity spaces , and their importance in mental health. Fostering these spaces and encouraging group activities, whether through volunteering, community art projects, or team sports, can help rebuild the sense of connection lost in a hyper-individualistic world. Additionally, shifting societal narratives to celebrate teamwork, mutual reliance, and acts of kindness can inspire a return to community-oriented values. While individualism remains a central part of Western culture, it’s still important to acknowledge its pitfalls and not fall victim to the hyper-individualistic mindset. After all, a thriving society is one in which both the individual and the collective are valued and supported. Photo by Matheus Bertelli on Pexels

The Mind-Body Interface MSc is the perfect course for you!    My journey getting on the course After my undergraduate studies as a psychology student, I noticed a recurring theme of never being satisfied with learning about the mind alone. I always felt that a big part of understanding a holistic human experience was missing. I wanted to learn about the interconnection between our biological and psychological processes to truly comprehend how and why we operate the way we do. So, when searching for a Master’s course to continue my academic journey, I was excited to find the Mind-Body Interface MSc at King's College London that combined scientific examinations of our psychological and biological processes in such a unique way. Now, having studied this course for the past year, I want to share my experience to help you understand what to expect and shed light on how the mind and body connection can shape your perspective.  Why is studying the connection between the mind and body important? Mental health disorders affect millions of people worldwide . They can cause long-term disability and contribute to the mortality rate . The lack of adequate appreciation of the connectedness between mental and other conditions has likely led to an underestimation of the proportion of those affected by a mental health disorder. Due to the high presence of co-existing physical and mental health conditions, complications in help-seeking, diagnosis, and treatment throughout the condition may occur. Studying the connection between the mind and the body is then essential. It helps us understand how mental and physical health can influence each other, offering a deeper insight into holistic well-being. By integrating this knowledge into healthcare, research, and policy, we can promote more inclusive treatment approaches, reduce stigma, and enhance community support systems, ultimately improving societal well-being.   Emotions like stress can exacerbate many diseases and disorders,  like cardiovascular disease and chronic fatigue symptoms, as well as alter our immune system response, making us more susceptible to infections. On the other hand, our bodies can also affect our minds . For example, those with chronic physical disorders are at a higher risk of developing mental health issues like depression. Therefore, examining this relationship can help us dramatically improve our approach to health, fostering a more integrated and comprehensive understanding of human well-being.  Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels About the course and my experience This is a one-of-a-kind course in its early years of starting, and I feel incredibly fortunate to be part of it. The uniqueness of this program comes from an interdisciplinary curriculum combining psychology, neuroscience, and physiology to explore how mind and body influence each other, bridging academic theory and practical implications.  Although there is a separation of the fields in the way the modules are set up, the integration of how the body and the mind communicate is present in all of them. The modules perfectly complement each other and demonstrate a complete picture of the mind and body interaction. The neuroscience module allows students to learn how our brain and body function within the context of mental health and neuronal pathologies. The psychology module focuses on exploring the mental health consequences of biological dysfunction and vice versa. Combining these two modules and applying them to a real-world setting makes up the therapeutic approach of the module.  Photo by Robina Weermeijer on Unsplash Each lecture is delivered by an expert in the field. The lecturers are always delighted to engage with students, answering questions and facilitating class discussions. The opportunity to interact with professionals who specialise in specific topics I’ve been reading about even before joining this course is truly a privilege. The course also offers a placement opportunity. Students can choose whether they would like to participate in a clinical, research, or an editorial placement with Inspire the Mind. You can have a look at other articles which have been previously published about the course he r e . Overall, these placements are a great opportunity to get a feel for the work possibilities in the field and to put the material learned in class into action.  I chose a research placement as I wanted to see what it is like working in a laboratory. Its pre-clinical aspect allowed me to interact with cells rather than patients. It gave me an insight into how research labs operate and the various testing techniques, as well as the machines used in a lab. As a part of the placement, I attend weekly meetings with my lab group, including other master's students, research assistants, PhD students, and the lab lead. This is also a time when all other project progressions are discussed, allowing me to hear and know about other exciting projects that are happening across the lab. Photo by Louise Reed on Unsplash Life while studying Maintaining a balance is crucial when pursuing a master's degree. Fortunately, the structure of the timetable, with all lectures scheduled on a single day and workshops spread out on separate days, has helped me manage studying, a part-time job, and socialising without feeling overwhelmed. Additionally, this schedule has allowed other students to continue living outside of London while commuting for lectures when they have to. Studying in such a multicultural setting makes you reconsider leaving. Living here has left me feeling inspired to study, explore, and truly live. As Samuel Johnson said, "When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford." So pack your bags well!  This course is based at the Denmark Hill campus of King's College London, which is conveniently located near the city centre. You will often find yourself exploring the libraries more than the city itself, but you will be amazed by the selection of books available. With your ID card, you can access any of the King’s libraries, so if you fancy reading something unrelated to the course, you’ll always have the opportunity. Additionally, if you don’t live near a King’s library, but need a quiet place to study, I recommend checking if there’s another university library nearby, as King’s students have access to libraries at other universities. But make sure to check the King's Library first! Photo by Element Digital on Pexels This course is for everyone! If you are afraid that you don’t have extensive knowledge in neuroscience, like myself, and  feel like you won't be able to follow the course, don’t be. The first few lectures cover the  neuroscientific knowledge needed to make the rest of the content more digestible, and  every lecture provides enough information needed to understand all the concepts required.  Suppose you come from neuroscience or any other scientific background and would like  to understand how our biological processes affect our psychology; this course is also ideal  for you! The psychology modules delve deeply into how mental health disorders stem from  or cause body disorders, allowing you to apply your knowledge of the body to the  connection between it and the mind.  And, if your background is in something completely different, but you strongly desire to  learn how our mind and body are connected, this course is more than manageable and a  great start on a research and academic journey.  Not only is this course unique, but it is brilliant! I strongly encourage those who are interested to apply, and to apply early!

As Ramadan comes to an end, the scent of fresh henna (a temporary form of body art) on my hands brings back a flood of memories from home. It's been three years since I’ve spent Eid away from Madagascar, and the smell of henna instantly takes me back to the many Eid eves I’ve spent with my sister and mom; they would take me to the mosque so we could apply henna together. Photo by Ravi Sharma on Unsplash I’m Layecha Fidahoussen. I currently work as a research assistant at the Psychoimmunometabolix & Interaction with the Environment   (PIXIE) Lab at King’s College London. For some time, I’ve been fascinated by how certain smells can bring me joy, sparking memories and emotions. This curiosity led me to delve deeper into our sense of smell and its profound connection to our experiences.   Has the smell of freshly baked cookies brought you back to your grandma's home from last autumn? Or perhaps the sweet fragrance of a perfume reminded you of a summer in Greece? On the flip side, maybe there’s a less pleasant memory, like the foul odour you encountered on the tube, which made you rethink your use of public transport.   Our sense of smell has a unique way of evoking memories, specifically   autobiographical experiences ,  which are a collection of events throughout life that constructs one’s identity. It’s a strong cue that may trigger emotionally charged memories that bring back scenes from the past. This phenomenon is referred to as the   “Proust Effect,”  which stems from a well-known tale written by Marcel Proust at the beginning of his novel (Swann’s Way) where he describes the taste of a Madelaine cake dipped in a cup of tea which triggers the remembrance of a long forgotten memory.   The   olfactory system  plays an important role in detecting and recognising odours, and it’s particularly involved in sending signals to the brain. In regions such as the amygdala and hippocampus, which are associated with processing emotions and memory. This enables us to experience, process, and remember smells.   Now, think of all the times you've walked into a bakery and been greeted by the warm smell of bread or pastries baking in the oven, or perhaps the rich smell of brewed coffee made for the person next in line. When you smell a new perfume, like you experience new events or learn new things, smelling new things expands our palette. Scientifically , new smells modify to adapt and change the neural connections in the olfactory bulb, which is an area of the brain responsible for processing smell signals. This allows us to recognise this scent over time. Now that we’ve established a good understanding of our sense of smell. I’ve noticed that essential oils (such as lavender and chamomile) have gained significant popularity for their potential benefit to help with issues from stress, sleep problems to sore throats. But do they actually work? Photo by Fulvio Ciccolo on Unsplash This form of healing refers to   aromatherapy , a form of holistic therapy. Essential oils are extracted from various parts of plants through methods such as steam distillation, cold pressing, or solvent extraction. They are used in aromatherapy by either diffusing them into the air, applying them to the skin, or inhaling them directly as a complementary healing method to handle certain symptoms or promote well-being. Some essential oils are known for their unique healing targets that can help promote physical and emotional well-being. An example of this is lavender. Lavender is known for its calming effects, which can soothe headaches and promote relaxation . It is known to reduce stress and anxiety. For centuries, aromatherapy has been used for therapeutic purposes, either in the form of cooking or medicine. The fragrances were used in various settings, from religious ceremonies to incorporation into fine remedies. Photo by Elly Johnson on Unsplash When  you inhale essential oils , these molecules move up your nose, and in response, the olfactory receptors, which are specialised cells, send these signals to the brain through the olfactory nerve. As mentioned previously, they are sent to regions of the brain such as the amygdala and hippocampus. The brain then releases hormones such as serotonin, endorphins, and dopamine, which as known to regulate your mood, sleep, and digestion. Furthermore, it   stimulates physiological responses , which can potentially increase our heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, and brain wave activity.   A recent  study investigated how wearing rose scent on clothing for a month might impact brain structure. MRI scans were taken before and after to measure changes in grey matter, which is the part of the brain responsible for processing and decision-making. The researchers concluded that continuous inhalation of rose essential oil increased grey matter, especially in the posterior cingulate cortex (PCC). This finding could have potential implications for preventing dementia, as people with Alzheimer's disease (AD) often have reduced grey matter in the PCC. Since this study shows that rose essential oil can increase grey matter in this area, it raises the possibility that regular exposure to essential oil may help prevent brain shrinkage and serve as a potential preventive measure for dementia.   Furthermore, in a recent  review , it was concluded that Lemon balm may help manage symptoms such as sleep disturbances, anxiety, and low mood, thus improving quality of life. The way it helps to do this is by its involvement in several biological pathways in the brain, like the GABAergic pathway, which makes use of a chemical called GABA (a neurotransmitter) to inhibit overactivity in the brain, leading to a calming effect. Another pathway is involved in the cholinergic pathway, which is crucial for processes related to attention, memory, and cognitive functions.   While research suggests aromatherapy may offer potential benefits, there's still much to discover. Our sense of smell plays a significant role in enhancing experiences and triggering memories, sometimes bringing forgotten events back to mind. It's a fascinating concept!   So, the next time you see an ad or commercial claiming that ylang-ylang essential oil can boost your self-esteem , remember to take it with a grain of salt and think of it from a scientific perspective.

Source: Unsplash (Jon Tyson) As an American living in England, working in health and science research for the past 7 years, I've observed from across the Atlantic how my home country's immense potential is often overshadowed by policies that seem to harm rather than help its citizens. The distance provides both perspective and heartache. Since President Trump's return to office, his administration has implemented healthcare and scientific research policy changes that show concerning impacts across the country. These policies reflect a worrying shift from evidence-based approaches to politically motivated decisions, prioritizing short-term political gains over long-term public health and scientific advancements that could benefit generations to come. Source: Unsplash ( Kevin Lamarque) Health Policy Changes Reducing Access and Increasing Costs I have been watching with growing concern as the healthcare landscape in my home country undergoes a dramatic transformation. To understand the context, it's crucial to first examine the Affordable Care Act (ACA), a landmark healthcare reform passed under President Obama. Initially passed in 2010, the ACA aimed to address critical healthcare gaps by expanding insurance coverage, protecting individuals with pre-existing conditions, and establishing health insurance marketplaces. The individual mandate—a controversial yet economically critical provision—required Americans to have health insurance or pay a tax penalty. This mechanism was designed to create a balanced insurance market by ensuring healthy individuals' participation, thereby offsetting the costs of more extensive medical needs. During his first term (2017-2020), President Trump began systematically weakening the ACA's protections. Executive orders allowed insurers to potentially discriminate against individuals with chronic health issues, while crucial subsidies for middle and lower-income Americans were dramatically reduced . The administration eliminated the individual mandate's financial penalty in 2017, destabilizing the carefully constructed insurance market. Short-term insurance plans proliferated, offering cheaper alternatives that often excluded essential services like maternity care, mental health treatment, and prescription drugs. Insurers could again potentially deny coverage to individuals with pre-existing conditions, raising serious concerns about healthcare accessibility. In his second term, President Trump has further intensified his efforts to roll back ACA provisions by cancelling executive orders from the Biden administration. Specifically, Trump has reversed policies that extended the annual timeframes when Americans could sign up for health insurance through ACA marketplaces (known as enrollment periods) and cut funding for organizations that help people navigate the complex insurance selection process (called third-party enrollment assistance). These changes came after President Biden's administration had successfully increased ACA participation to approximately 24 million enrollees largely by increasing government financial assistance that reduced monthly insurance payments for consumers. From my perspective, these changes represent more than policy adjustments—they signify a fundamental reimagining of healthcare as a market commodity rather than a social right. Despite claims of increasing competition and reducing costs, millions of Americans face higher premiums, fewer insurance options, and  less comprehensive coverage. Ultimately, the Trump administration's healthcare policies have left a lasting impact: weakening patient protections, increasing economic barriers to healthcare, and challenging the notion of healthcare as a fundamental right. Source: Unsplash ( Vlad Tchompalov) Scientific Research Under Siege The Trump administration's policies have had a profound impact on the scientific research community as well. One of the most significant changes has been the administration's approach to federal funding. By capping indirect cost reimbursements for institutions receiving National Institutes of Health (NIH) grants, the administration has placed financial strain on universities and research institutions. These indirect costs, which cover essential infrastructure like lab maintenance and administrative support, are critical for sustaining research operations. The cap has forced institutions to either absorb these costs or scale back their research activities, jeopardizing the progress of ongoing projects . Additionally, the administration's executive orders have introduced ideological restrictions on federally funded research. Topics such as diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI), gender studies, and green energy have been explicitly targeted, leading to the termination of related programs and grants. This has created a chilling effect, with researchers uncertain as to whether their work aligns with the administration's shifting priorities. The lack of clear communication from agencies like the NIH and the National Science Foundation (NSF) has further compounded this uncertainty, leaving many researchers in limbo . I spoke with a researcher from John Hopkins University (Baltimore, USA) about how these changes are affecting her. Like me, she preferred to remain anonymous due to fears of facing repercussions for speaking out about the current administration. She said " The hardest part of these funding cuts is dealing with the uncertainty. It’s challenging to maintain productivity and continue research as usual when you’re unsure if the grant currently supporting your work will be impacted. This uncertainty not only slows down scientific progress but also makes long-term scientific planning very difficult.”  The administration's withdrawal from international agreements, such as the Paris Climate Accord and the World Health Organization, has also isolated U.S. scientists from global collaborations. These decisions have weakened the nation's ability to address pressing global challenges, from climate change to public health crises, and have diminished its leadership in the scientific community. Moreover, the rapid pace of policy changes, including mass layoffs at federal science agencies, has disrupted the stability and morale of the research workforce. Together, these actions represent a significant departure from the long-standing bipartisan consensus on the importance of investing in science. The cumulative effect of these policies has been to erode the infrastructure, funding, and collaborative spirit that underpin scientific innovation, leaving researchers to navigate an increasingly uncertain and restrictive environment. The Path Forward The negative impacts of the current administration's health and science policies present serious challenges for America's future. Without course correction, the country faces the prospect of declining health outcomes, reduced scientific innovation, and diminished global influence in research and development. Healthcare advocates, scientific organizations, and public health experts are increasingly calling  for bipartisan solutions that restore evidence-based approaches to these critical areas. State governments  are exploring ways to fill federal funding gaps for essential research and health programs, while private foundations are establishing emergency funds to maintain critical scientific work. The stakes could not be higher. As America's healthcare infrastructure weakens and scientific capacity erodes, the nation's ability to address future challenges—from pandemics to climate change to economic competition—diminishes accordingly. The path to restoring America's health and scientific leadership will require sustained advocacy, investment, and a return to policies that prioritize evidence over ideology. Despite these challenges, I remain hopeful about America's capacity for renewal. In conversations with friends working in healthcare and research back home, I hear determination rather than defeat. America has faced crossroads before and found its way forward—the resilience and ingenuity that have defined the nation at its best moments remain alive beneath the surface, waiting for the right conditions to flourish again.

Why Should Improvements in Palliative and Social Care Be an Integral Part of the Assisted Dying Legislation in the UK?   Trigger warning: this article briefly mentions suicide.   On the 29th of November 2024 the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill , introduced by the Labour MP Kim Leadbeater, passed its second reading in the House of Commons with a 55-vote majority (330 ayes vs 275 noes). This represents a landmark in the history of the UK, being the first time the Parliament has voted in favour of a bill aiming to legalise assisted dying. Indeed, multiple legislations on assisted dying have been proposed in the UK since 1936 – when Lord Arthur Ponsonby introduced the Voluntary Euthanasia Bill to the House of Lords  - but none of them achieved a majority of votes until now, 88 years later.  The proposed legislation would legalise assisted dying for mentally competent adults aged 18 or over, living in England and Wales, who have a terminal illness and a remaining life expectancy of less than 6 months. Under the current version of the Bill, eligible people wishing to access assisted dying would need to get approval from a panel including a senior legal figure, a psychiatrist, and a social worker. This multidisciplinary body would need to establish whether the individual is eligible, has mental capacity, and is acting voluntarily without coercion. A similar bill  has also been proposed in Scotland, and it would allow adults aged 16 or over with a terminal illness to pursue assisted dying upon approval from two independent doctors. Nonetheless, eligibility criteria and assessment procedures for both bills may change, as these are currently being reviewed by relevant committees and will be subject to additional parliamentary scrutiny in the coming months.  While the legalisation of assisted dying in the UK may take years —if it is ever approved—this possibility has sparked a heated debate among members of the public . Supporters of the Bill argue that assisted dying will provide terminally ill people with choice over their end-of-life, while the opponents argue that it will threaten their freedom by pressuring the more vulnerable to end their lives.  Photos by Dignity in Dying and European Pressphoto Agency Personally, I stand in the middle. I support the Bill in principle, as I believe people should have the right to an assisted death when they have a terminal illness and no chance of recovery. However, I am concerned that legalising assisted dying in the UK may pose a threat to people’s free will if access to palliative and social care is not significantly improved.  How Could Assisted Dying Benefit Terminally Ill People?  Supporters of the Bill – myself included – argue that assisted dying could ease suffering in the final stages of terminal illnesses, particularly for those whose pain cannot be relieved by palliative care  (support offered to people with incurable illnesses to alleviate pain and distressing symptoms). Here, I want to explicitly clarify that by terminal illnesses I refer to physical health conditions - like late-stage cancer or neurological diseases - not mental health conditions. Although the proposed legislation would not legalise assisted dying solely on the basis of mental health conditions in the UK, as a mental health researcher, I feel the need and duty to clarify my position on this – which is that I am firmly against this. By saying this, I don’t mean to downplay the suffering of people affected by mental health conditions, but - unlike those with terminal illnesses – their symptoms can improve.  Currently, the lack of assisted dying legislation in the UK pushes terminally ill people wishing to pursue this option to travel to countries where this procedure is legal, leading to additional financial, legal, and emotional challenges. According to a recent report  by the charity Dignity in Dying, over 1500 Britons have accessed assisted dying at Dignitas (a non-profit organisation offering assisted dying in Switzerland) between 1998 and 2022, representing about 15% of all assisted deaths at this organisation. However, this option is only available to those who can afford the costs associated with it (this adds up to about £15,000 if you were wondering), leading to health inequalities. Travelling abroad also requires a certain level of health, which may pressure people to make this journey earlier than necessary, eventually sacrificing precious time they could spend with their loved ones if they could access this option in the UK. Additionally, anyone involved in making arrangements for an assisted death faces prosecution in the UK. As such, terminally ill people often make this journey alone to protect their family and friends from legal repercussions.  The inability to access assisted dying can also push terminally ill people to attempt suicide to escape unbearable suffering in their end-of-life. Indeed, terminally ill people are more than twice as likely to take their life  compared to the general population, with 300 to 650 of them dying by suicide every year . Even when attempts are not successful, they can cause severe injuries and further exacerbate their physical suffering.  Taking these considerations into account, in my opinion, there is no doubt that legalising assisted dying could ease the physical pain and emotional suffering of terminally ill people. However, the lack of wide spread access to palliative and social care may push people towards this option for the wrong reasons.  Photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash   The Current State of Social and Palliative Care in the UK  Access to high-quality palliative and social care is the basis for a good end-of-life for people with terminal illnesses, however, in the UK this is only available to a few.  Research has shown that 1 in 4 people in the UK do not receive adequate end-of-life care , with 100,000 people dying each year with unmet palliative care needs . This is not surprising given that only 30% of hospice care is NHS-funded, with the remaining funding coming from charitable organisations.   Similarly, access to publicly funded social care is limited. A recent report  indicated that in the past 10 years, more people have requested social care support, but fewer have been granted it. In fact, the financial threshold to access publicly funded social care has not been adjusted for inflation since 2010, meaning that fewer people are eligible for that. This puts a strain on unpaid carers, such as family members and friends, who currently contribute the equivalent of 4 million paid care workers to the social care system (if you want to learn more about this, read this article  from my colleague Tony Woods on unpaid carers in the UK).  As such, my concern is that the lack of appropriate end-of-life care could push people to opt for assisted dying to avoid an agonising death and/or becoming a burden for their loved ones.  Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels   How Can Terminally Ill People Get Choice Over their End-of-Life?  In my opinion, the only way to give terminally ill people a choice over their end-of-life is to give them access to all options, including high-quality social and palliative care as well as assisted dying. This could be achieved by ensuring that increased funding for palliative and social care is an integral part of the assisted dying legislation. This has already been implemented in other countries, like Belgium , which have seen a marked improvement in end-of-life care provision.   The debate on assisted dying will continue to unfold in the coming months and hopefully, it will continue to shed light on the state of palliative and social care as well as the immediate need to reform them. Ultimately, I hope the Bill will give terminally ill people the right to live and die with dignity.

Trigger Warning: The following article discusses violence against women. Contains Spoilers. Owen Cooper as Jamie in Adolescence. Source: Netflix Last weekend, I decided to watch Netflix’s new drama Adolescence . I had been apprehensive to watch it, assuming it would be another unbearable, gratuitous depiction of the murder of a young girl, which would fall on deaf ears. While my initial reaction was one of anger and frustration, Adolescence provoked a far more nuanced response than I expected. Its portrayal of young men and the roots of misogynistic violence forces its audience to grapple with uncomfortable truths about perpetrators of gendered violence. With its focus on the devastating consequences of extreme misogyny for young boys, I am hopeful it may be the Trojan horse we need to garner concern over the rise in violence against women. Incel Culture and The Manosphere Adolescence portrays the effect of the mass indoctrination of young men that has occurred with the popularisation of the Manosphere , an extremist form of online sexism which has been widely disseminated by content creators (including self-proclaimed misogynist, Andrew Tate); and Incel culture , made up of ‘involuntarily celibate’ young men whose identities are defined by their lack of sexual encounters with women, for which they blame women. On the one hand, ‘Adolescence’ is a window into an incels mind and a devastating confirmation of some of my worst fears. But on the other hand, it is an exquisitely executed, long overdue, wake-up call, which depicts the nuance of the causes and effects of the rising public health crisis of violence against women. The show consists of 4 episodes and follows the aftermath of the murder of 13-year-old Katie Leonard by 13-year-old Jamie Miller. The storyline focuses mainly on Jamie, the investigation into his crime, and the impact it has on both him and his family (in particular, the emotional fallout for his father, Eddie).   Importantly, Jamie comes from a normal, loving family. His parents are devoted childhood sweethearts, and he appears close to his older sister. Despite this, he still falls victim to Incel culture and is radicalised, from his mobile phone, in his own home. Source: Centre for Research and Evidence on Security Threats The Power of Seeing Male Rage from the Male Perspective As I digested the show, I felt uncomfortable with the focus on Jamie; echoing the sentiment of the investigating officer, DS Misha Frank, ”Everyone will remember Jamie. No one will remember [Katie]”. It is often the case that murderers are inadvertently immortalised, overshadowing their victim’s memory. However, in this instance, I believe focusing on Jamie provides insight into the root cause of violence against women: the radicalisation of the men who commit such atrocities. The show re-frames gendered violence from ‘girl murdered’ to ‘boy murders girl’, forcing the viewer to acknowledge the links between sexism, male rage, and violence against women. Katie’s absence in the show is marked, with only glimpses of her in the CCTV footage of her murder, the photo Jamie is shown of her in the police station, and her voice in the choir. Importantly, Katie is not a perfect victim – her online bullying of Jamie plays a role in his growing isolation and radicalisation. The creator’s choice to not canonize her in death humanises her, acting as a reminder that victims can be complex, and yet still worthy of justice and sympathy.   Incompatible Feelings? The show provokes a complex mix of seemingly incompatible emotions towards Jamie, especially given his young age contrasted with his violent crime. From sorrow and pity at the demise of such a young and promising boy, to anger at his decision to channel his insecurities into misogyny and gendered violence. I have reconciled that these conflicting feelings can exist together. We can be both enraged by the avoidable death of a woman, whilst feeling grief for the young men and boys who choose to go down this path. This is central to the notion that patriarchy and sexism harm both men and women and evidences the need to dismantle the systems upholding inequality, for the benefit of all. The radicalisation of young men online is a silent epidemic that has been overlooked for years, evidenced by the murder of one woman, by a man, every 3 days in the UK. Tellingly, ‘Adolescence’ dropped on Netflix just as it was released that crossbow killer, Kyle Clifford, had searched for Andrew Tate videos just hours before murdering Louise Hunt, her sister Hannah, and their mother Carol. From left to right: Louise Hunt (25), Carol Hunt (61), Hannah Hunt (28) Source: Independent I firmly believe that a lack of compassion, sensitivity, and emotional connection is a key factor in the radicalisation of young boys. Societal pressures for men to be strong, dominant, and emotionless have created a void that can easily be exploited. While men are certainly responsible for their choices and should be held accountable for their actions, it is essential to approach their experiences with curiosity and empathy. A societal failing is at play, and I am relieved that this is finally being acknowledged. A Vessel for Women’s Rights Admittedly, I am somewhat frustrated that a show that focuses so heavily on the formation of the perpetrator and his demise is what has elicited such shock, when so many shows have come before that have identified the suffering caused to female victims, with far less public horror. I can’t help but wonder why this is. And yet, I am grateful to the creators for producing a show focussing on violence against women that has resonated with many people - so far, Adolescence has achieved over 24.3 million views worldwide. Promisingly there have been many calls to show Adolescence in Parliament as well as schools and Prime Minister Keir Stamer has recognised that "we may have a problem with boys and young men". I am hopeful Adolescence will serve as a Trojan horse for progressive change – leading to more conversations about and action to prevent violence against women. Again, I have to remind myself that it is okay to be conflicted. To feel that women are overlooked and that their lives are valued less than men’s; whilst feeling sorrow for the boys and men who are being harmed by incel culture; and feeling relief that conversations about violence against women have become so mainstream. These feelings reflect the nuance of this complex topic. A Call for Compassion and Connection I believe that compassion and connection are what is needed to overcome the popularisation of incel culture, which appeals to alienated men. So instead of shunning men with anger, we must open up conversations about their views on masculinity and women so that they can be vulnerable and heal. This requires great strength and courage from women, who have been subjected to systemic sexism and violence throughout history. Adolescence has started these conversations . It may feel counterintuitive to use sympathy and connection to prevent violence, but I believe it is the only path forward. Addressing the cycle of gender-based violence involves both confronting difficult truths and creating space for healing. Adolescence holds a mirror up to the societal forces that shape violent young men, and it is our collective responsibility to look into that mirror and work to change what we see.

Perspective I: The Distance of Fear On October 7, 2023, I was in New York. Autumn was settling into the city with a kind of effortless ease, the weather cooling down after a boiling summer. Everything would change overnight when the onslaught in Gaza began—alongside rising tensions between Hezbollah and Israel at the Lebanese border. After the Hamas attacks in Israel, I knew the collective punishment of Palestinians would be horrific. As the images and videos of Palestinians being murdered filled our social media feeds and televisions, I knew this was just the beginning of what was to come. I spiraled into a manic breakdown almost instantly. I had lived in Lebanon for half of my life. I’m half Lebanese, and my Lebanese family still lives there. I’ve written before about the complexities of identity—how it feels to belong to more than one place, and yet not feel entirely at home in either. As a Lebanese-Ethiopian writer and photographer who splits her time between Beirut and New York, I’m used to navigating the space between geographies. But this was different. This was not a balancing act. This was free fall. The loneliness of it was unbearable. In New York, people reacted to the headlines, but their concern never extended far enough. Lebanon was an afterthought, a footnote in conversations about regional instability. I was too frightened to seek comfort, for fear that people would condemn my political views. When I tried to explain my panic, my grief, the fear curling itself around my body like a second skin, I was met with blank stares or worse—indifference. I couldn’t sleep. My phone became an extension of my hand, constantly refreshing Twitter, checking WhatsApp messages from family and friends. Airstrikes. Cross-border clashes. Rumors of a full-scale invasion. The weight of helplessness crushed me. I walked the streets of Manhattan for weeks in a daze, passing by restaurants packed with people laughing over drinks, my mind stuck in another place, another reality. I was surrounded by people, yet completely alone.  Image photographed by writer. Perspective II: The Proximity of Terror Now, I am back in Lebanon. And I am living through the war I feared from afar. It’s different when the bombs are falling within earshot. When the windows rattle in their frames, and your body tenses involuntarily, bracing for something worse. In New York, my mind fractured under the weight of fear. Here, my mind is forced into a different kind of survival mode. It’s not about distant anxiety or catastrophic imagination anymore. It’s about immediate choices: Will we have to leave our home? Where will we go if we have to leave?  I never realized how much war changes your perception of time. Days are no longer measured by plans and schedules, but by lulls and escalations. The silences between airstrikes are their own kind of psychological torment. You count them, wondering if they signal an end or just another beginning. You sleep in increments, waiting for sirens, waiting for news, waiting for the sound of Israeli jets roaring above your head. Fear here is not the distant, spiraling anxiety I had in New York. It is sharper, more immediate, and yet, in some ways, easier to carry. There is no helplessness when survival is an action. You learn to move with the chaos, to make decisions that aren’t theoretical but necessary. But the mental toll is different. It’s the claustrophobia of being trapped, not just physically but emotionally. It’s the way the war seeps into your body, into the way you breathe, into the way you speak. In New York, I felt like I was losing my mind because the war felt both inevitable and unreal. Here, the war is real, and I am losing parts of myself in it. Between Two Nightmares I lay awake right before the ceasefire was declared at 4AM, praying that it would actually take hold. The days that followed were uneasy. I watched the way the city stitched itself back together with an exhausted kind of hope, Israeli drones still buzzing overhead. I spent much of my time reflecting. I had lived this war from two perspectives. I have learned what it means to be consumed by fear for your loved ones and country when you are far away, and what it means to live through that fear when it materializes around you. Which is worse? The war in your head or the war outside your window? In New York, I was gaslit by the apathy of those around me, forced to explain why I was unraveling. Here, there is no need to explain. The fear is shared, understood. But here, the danger is real, and understanding does not grant protection. I am mentally drained. I do not know what peace looks like anymore—true peace, not the fragile pauses between conflicts. But I do know that distance does not dull the pain of war. It only changes the way it breaks you.

Image by the author She leans her hand on the grey sandpaper wall, balancing out of her trainers and into black pumps. She only ever wears them to job interviews, and now funerals. Bending her leg awkwardly to do up the thin buckle on the ankle, she sees someone short and bouncy rush from the station, looking both ways down Middle Third. They acknowledge each other wordlessly and curiously, both knowing they are going to the same place, both wondering what the connection is. She’ll later wonder if his look of surprise was because she looked so familiar, despite how foreign she felt. She’d get used to that disconcerted look from people, the double take and then the second look that lasted a bit too long. Today, she would be told again and again ‘Sure you’re the spit of your Da!’. She already knew her son looked just like Richie, a smaller version of the uncle he never got to meet. The way they hold a guitar, the serious and serene expression they both adopt, eyes on fingers on fret, getting it just right, the only important thing just now. A year and a half later, she’d watch a man she’d poured all her love and loss into shift his eyes awkwardly and say, “You look just like him, you know”. He hoped it would help her see why he couldn’t love her back, not like that. Not the way she wanted. She couldn’t let go though and neither could he, pushing her away with words but keeping her close with his actions and his time, on his time. Closer and closer they clung, but never close enough for her. She’d let him mean too much. Her stomach contracts as she sees the car pull up. She turns away from Killester Station and the Dart, all grey and green, and smiles at her cousin. So familiar, in the literal sense; they are so obviously family. Only in this moment though, does her whole ‘Dad’s side of the family’ become real, true, reachable, hers. It hits her like a tidal wave then, taking her breath with it. It's too late. She will never reach him. He is gone. She is finally here, but her brother Richie is gone. “It’s so nice to meet you, I wish it wasn’t like this” All day she feels welcomed and recognised, her family can't help but smile at finally meeting her, despite the heavy sadness of the occasion. She feels eyes on her all day, curious and often gentle, sometimes suspicious. “God you’re the spit of Peter” “It was good of you to come” “I loved your Da, do you know where he is now?” No. “Do you hear from your Da?” No. “Jaysus, you’re the image of Peter” Usually said with love, sometimes pity, and once, with barely disguised spite. Still, she feels yet again like an outsider, an intruder. Sitting near the front of the church with the family, as her cousin insisted, she feels like she has no right to be there. The tears that stream down her face are real though. The loss feels unbearable; this feeling of losing someone she never had but should have. Someone she should have been so close to. They shared so much and nothing at all. Similar strangers. A familiar stranger now, she looks around at all this family, flesh and blood, who have been here all along. She’s missed so much, and now so much is missing. It is too late for her and her brother, and Dad remains unreachable – roaming the soup kitchens of West London. Close, but just out of reach to her, no matter how hard she searches. She feels her heart hurt as she watches tears stream down her uncle’s cheeks, he looks fragile and old and not able for the heartbreak of it. Later, she fears he doesn’t want her there when he leaves Aunty’s house while they are all looking at photos. In her self-centred fear of rejection, she thinks he is walking away from her , disapproving of her appearance after all these years. Ten minutes later he returns with more photos to show her, of her dad as a teenager, of the block of flats they lived in together in the 70s on Ladbroke Grove. She shows him where her son goes to school now, just opposite the flats. They look at the beginnings of the big Sainsburys being built in the corner of the photo. When it is time to leave, she asks her cousin to wait a minute; she has to show her uncle something. She isn’t ready to leave him, she needs to connect one more time, just in case. She shows him a notebook of poems Dad wrote for Richie, he did love him. She hugs him goodbye, their cheekbones bump awkwardly, and she is so fearful of his mortality. Please let me see him again, she pleads. This can’t be all. At the church she watches her brother’s girlfriend unable to stand, leaning against the wooden bench in front, her legs weak and wobbling. One cousin says a chunk of his childhood has been ripped out of him. Another nods and cries, “I know exactly what you mean” She wishes she knew exactly what he means too. In a way she does, it feels like something has been ripped out. But she stands alone in her not-knowing, in her lacking, and in her emptiness. She is envious of that chunk of childhood that has been ripped from them. She will never know; she has missed so much. She feels alone in her undeserved grief, her unknowns, her what-ifs. She's grateful for their welcome, their folding her in. She feels lucky to be a part of it. She wishes for the security and sameness of having been there all along. She notices him above everyone else coming out of the church literally, him being a foot taller than most. She instantly wants to know him, an almost immediate, inevitable attachment. He notices her too, later telling her he knew straight away who she was, “You look just like him you know”. He is tall, solid, safe, striking. His long hair braided into a Viking plait. He's soft too, his body and his eyes and his openness. His Dublin growl on a voice note the next day, the way he says, “when I saw you at the church there–”, has her instantly. They both need someone to grieve with, someone to feel closer to Richie with. But she pours so much more into it from the start, unable to differentiate.

Black and white image from Unsplash As a young woman, I often find myself wondering what my place is. Both in life, what aspirations should I follow for my soul to feel fulfilled? And in the world, what is the geographical area that will house my dreams and realities and turn the former into the latter? With the questions comes the urge to be happy at all costs. But so many lives live in me, and can reality host them all? I dream of building a career of my own, as well as building my own family. However, I often feel that having both is precluded from me. I often fear the possibility of ending up nourishing someone else's dreams instead of mine. Putting my potential to sleep so that somebody else's can rise and grow. All this at the price of my own dreams, which would then only be destined to live in my mind like ghosts in a haunted house. So I fixated on the concepts of happiness, of purpose, and of womanhood. I want it all, but what if I can’t have it all? What happens when you don’t get it at all? What happens to unfulfilled purpose? Is it able to haunt a mind like ghosts do with graveyards? At the start of the year, I often focussed on these thoughts. This year, the new hot topic on BookTok (the TikTok community where people discuss books) was ‘The Vegetarian’ by Han Kang. After a brief surf of the plot of the novel, I knew that I had to read the book. Yeong-hye, the protagonist, was the haunted house that I needed to visit to grow from these thoughts. Reading 'The Vegetarian' left me feeling uneasy. I had more questions than I had answers, mostly about the fate of Yeong-hye. I was left asking myself: What triggered that state of apparent complete disconnection from reality? Can it happen to me as a person? Will it happen to me as a woman? Long story short, the book narrates the story of a woman who never speaks for herself. She is only ever presented as a wife, daughter, and sister. And then, she decides to become a vegetarian. This choice, which at the beginning seems to be so innocent and irrelevant, soon becomes the symptom of a serious condition and outlook on society. A few days after finishing the book, I formed a hypothesis about its message. Could it be that Yeong-hye's need to shrink herself to please her father and later her husband led to a long-term defensive mechanism? This mechanism might have created fertile ground for a more serious mental condition to develop. The book that should have given answers left me with questions.  Thus, I chose to explore how societal expectations affect mental health, especially for women. To do this, I read 'The Bell Jar' by Sylvia Plath. I knew, at this point, that unfulfilment could be a life sentence, but what about potential? What about young women like me who were still in the process of choosing and were feeling overwhelmed by expectations of every sort? Esther, the protagonist of ‘The Bell Jar’, is a young woman with the possibility of a brilliant future ahead. However, society expects her to remain chaste and get married rather than have a career. The different paths promised to men and women spark events that lead to a traumatic experience. In turn, these make her realise that society was never hers but always his to own. This leads her into spiralling thoughts on her role and purpose, making her ultimately question her fitness for life. My passion for cognitive science brought me to focus on the slow but constant form of dissociation from reality depicted by both novels. My fixation on being a woman in a society that does not always feel like it was built for me made me wonder if the challenges we face might be the key to the described dissociative state. In synthesis, I wondered if there was a connection between gender and dissociative disorder and what its roots were. A study by Sar and colleagues in 2006 found that being female is a key reason for the high rates of dissociative disorders today. They reported a female-to-male ratio of 9:1. According to the  Mayo Clinic,  dissociative disorder is a broad term. It describes a set of conditions involving loss of connection between thoughts, feelings, surroundings, behaviour, and identity. It arises as a reaction to shocking, distressing, or painful events , such as abuse or neglect , and aims to suppress difficult memories. The lives of Esther from The Bell Jar and Yeong-hye from The Vegetarian create unease and confusion for the reader. Their identities are unclear. Both characters feel disconnected from themselves and their emotions. This leads to a warped sense of reality and thoughts of self-harm. These characteristics are often listed as common symptoms of the dissociative disorder. I then pondered, is this what happens when, as a woman, you have aspirations bigger than the roles society has destined for you? Nowadays, I have the opportunity to study or be a mother. However,  "although society norms and levels of acceptance have changed",  a lot of people haven’t. If I do aspire to have it all, I will be questioned on who will raise my kids if I am at work, and would I end up loving my job more than my family? In our hearts, there is space for both; is it that shocking? Nevertheless, a man is promised both. Society accepts for him to have both, as well as, for him, the freedom to choose one. Who is going to question his ability to succeed in both? Who is going to tear over her neglected dreams that allowed him to have both? And so we are, 9:1, the reason for the high prevalence of dissociative disorders in the present. Neglect. Naturally, it is not possible to, and it is far from my competencies, to confirm a disorder in any real or fictional character. And I do not aim at simplifying the aetiology of any disorder. However, I do aim at a reflection on the effects of the pressing societal views on the individual’s mental health. This piece aims to raise awareness of mental health and societal pressure. To highlight the interdependency of the two. I wanted to highlight the link between lifestyle, relationships, and mental health. Stress the importance of living a life guided by one's purpose. Wanting to lead the reader into the realisation that what the mind can't handle is not the versatility of one's personality. But neglect is the womb of unborn dreams. Being forced into a life that someone else imposed rather than one chosen. Finally, I wonder if dissociation isn't a form of defence mechanism. A strategy adopted by the mind to seclude consciousness from a reality, or the potential of a reality, of painful unfulfilment and unsolved emotional trauma.