#top psychologist near me

[recoverhealthcare]

Clinical Psychologist - Recover.healthcare

[drshikhamittal1]

Discover the Best Dietician in Delhi for Weight Loss: Top Expert in Delhi NCR

Looking for the best dietician in Delhi for weight loss? Look no further! Our renowned team offers expert guidance tailored to help you achieve your weight loss goals effectively and sustainably. As the best dietician near you, we provide personalized nutrition plans and support to fit your unique lifestyle and needs. Serving the Delhi NCR area, our specialists are dedicated to delivering top-notch care and results. Trust us to guide you on your journey to better health with the expertise of the leading dieticians in the region.

[healthgennie]

10 Signs of Childhood Trauma You Shouldn't Ignore

Recognizing signs of childhood trauma is crucial for early intervention and healing. Symptoms like anxiety, depression, and relationship difficulties can signal unresolved trauma. If you or a loved one is experiencing these signs, seeking support from the best therapist for depression near me is essential. They can provide compassionate guidance and evidence-based therapies to navigate through difficult emotions and experiences. Taking this step can lead to profound healing and a healthier, happier future.

For Any Query: Call: +91-8929920932 Consult Now: https://www.healthgennie.com/jaipur/psychologist Download App: https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=io.Hgpp.app&hl=en

[casualvoidbread]

6 Warning Signs You are Suffering From Mental Health Problems

It is not surprising that our routine day-to-day life stresses us both physically and mentally. While we tend to take care of ourselves physically, we tend to ignore our mental health consistently 

Best Mental Illness Doctors in Bangalore explain that it is extremely vital to take a moment and reflect on our mental health as it impacts every aspect of our lives.

The best way to deal with Mental Health issues is to first be aware of the warning signs that can indicate that you need to meet your physician or psychiatrist. This blog explores 6 common signs that might signal a mental health issue.

Warning Signs That Matter

Whether we realize it or not, mental health plays a significant role in our happiness, productivity, and relationships. 

Continued feeling of Sadness/ Moroseness Experts associated with the Best Mental Health Clinic in Bangalore indicate that feeling sad and morose for a prolonged period of time can indicate an underlying mental health condition. 

Feeling Isolated Feeling lonely and lost is a clear indication of something disturbing in your mind. Withdrawing or staying away from social gatherings and meetings can seriously impact your day-to-day routines and can even propel you to make drastic decisions. This condition must be overcome at the earliest to help you stay strong and confident.

Varying sleep patterns and food habits Changes in sleep patterns and food habits can lead to nutritional imbalances and can impact energy levels and mood.

Difficulty in focusing An undiagnosed mental health disorder can affect your ability to focus on activities a great deal. This can impact your overall productivity and progress.

Physical ailments with no particular reason Certain physical ailments with no specific cause could indicate a possible mental health issue. Unexplained symptoms, such as headaches, digestive issues, body aches, or fatigue, should not be disregarded as they can generate emotional stress impacting physical well-being.

Frustration leading to thoughts of suicide Thoughts of self-harm or suicide are critical warning signs that should never be ignored or dismissed. They indicate immense emotional distress and require urgent attention.

Ignoring any symptom of a likely mental health issue can not only be demoralizing but also disastrous. It needs the best and calmest minds to understand your situation and show you the way forward. Hence, if you are wondering, “Who is the Best to Reach Out for Mental Health Counseling Near Me”, think no further than Maarga Mindcare. You will immediately feel the difference by speaking to our experts.

[psychologist-komal-gupta]

[dshseodelhi]

Best psychiatrist in Bangalore

Best psychiatrist in Bangalore (Drsafehands) .Book Your Appointment With our Doctors At Low Cost In Pan India .We are Providing Free Home Sample Collection In India .Grab Opportunity (Free Session With Our Doctor)

[bestpsychologistinpunjab]

What is sleep disorder?

As we know sleep is very important to carry day to day routine and for proper and healthy mental health.

Disorder that prevents you from getting restful sleep can generally cause restlessness, daytime sleepiness.

However, we can ourself analyze, either we are having sleep disorder if: –

There is difficulty in sleeping regularly

Feeling of tiredness during the day

Having problem in performing regular daytime activities

As we know sleep is very important to carry day to day routine, healthy life style and mental health.

But deprivation of sleep can hinder normal routine such as, work routine (professional and personal) and health.

Sleep disorder can occur due to many reasons such as, because of medical conditions, like depression, anxiety, parasomnias, obstruction sleep apnea.

Different types of sleep disorders.

Insomnia: – inability to fall asleep or to remain asleep. It can be caused due to jet lag, stress, anxiety, hormones or digestive problems.

Insomnia is classified into 3 types

1 Chronic 2Intermittent 3 Transient

Sleep apnea: – characterized by pauses in breathing during sleep. It is a serious condition that causes body to take in less oxygen.

Parasomnias: – It causes abnormal movements and behavior during sleep.

Restless leg syndrome: – it is an overwhelming need to move the legs. This urge is sometimes accompanied by a tingling sensation in the legs.

Narcolepsy: – characterized by “sleep attacks” that occur while awake. This means that you will suddenly feel extremely tired and fall asleep without warning.

Symptoms of sleep disorder can be: –

Episodic (lasts from 1 to 3 months)

Persistent (lasts from 3 or more months)

Recurrent (with two or more episodes within a year)

Diagnosis

Sleep disordercan be diagnosed by a physician by observing patient’s medical history, any kind of substance misuse, depression and other physical and mental illness. Thus, it also involves physical exam, sleep diary and a sleep study.

Sleep study also called Polysomnography, records your brain waves, oxygen level in your blood, heart rate and breathing as well as eye and leg movements during the study.

There are other techniques as well which can help a person to regulate sleep cycle. It includes: –

Relaxation Techniques: – used before bed times and can be helpful for insomnia.

Mind and Body approaches: – mindfulness, meditation, yoga, massage therapy.

Herbs and dietary supplements.

Sleep Hygiene: – Stick to sleep schedule

Avoid naps especially afternoon Exercise daily

Pay attention to bedroom environment and your mattress. Avoid alcohol, caffeine, and heavy meals in the evening.

[honeyjars-sims]

3.23 Making an Impression

Part 1 of 2

It’s the day of my hike with Lucy and Lacey. I somehow manage to convince a few other coworkers to come with us even though a lot of us aren’t particularly athletic. Robi, Clara, Quinn, and Lilly are joining us and I’m feeling pretty good about my plan to help Lucy make friends.

While we’re waiting for Lucy and her brother to show up, Lilly shows off her hiking fit. She always has the craziest outfits and they’re usually themed, which is fun.

Today she’s wearing a fishing hat with fabric fish attached to the brim. As Lilly poses for us, Lacey swats at them and they swirl around each other like they’re in a chase. “What’s with the fishing hat?” Lacey asks her.

Lilly starts untangling the fish. “It’s the most outdoorsy thing I own,” she explains. “I thought it really completed the outfit.”

“I think it’s cute,” Clara tells her. “No one said you had to be practical.”

“I don’t think Lilly could be practical if she tried,” Robi laughs.

“I’ll take that as a compliment!”

“I meant it as one!”

“I think that’s Lucy,” Quinn says, looking toward the entrance to the trails. She abruptly slaps herself on the neck, which makes all of us stare at her in confusion. “Mosquito,” she explains, her face flushing red. “They always eat me up.”

Lucy and her crew approach us. A guy I assume is her brother is with her; he looks like the stereotypical Tartosan with his jet black hair and I can see a family resemblance. There's another girl with them, which is great because if there's one thing this trip is lacking, it's female energy.

Lucy introduces them as her brother Paul and his best friend Danica.

Once the introductions are done, we all start making our way up the hiking trail.

“What do you two do?” Clara asks Paul and Danica.

“We’re both students at Foxbury,” Danica answers. “We’re in undergrad now, but I want to be a Psychologist and Paul’s going to be a doctor.”

“Wow, that’s really cool!” Clara replies.

“What kind of doctor do you want to be, Paul?” inquires Lacey.

“I’m not sure yet,” Paul admits. “I want to wait until I’ve done a few clinical rotations in med school before I settle on anything.”

“That’s really wise,” Lilly says, sounding impressed.

All of the girls make their way towards Paul as soon as they hear the word "doctor." They start talking to him about his bright future.

Wow, Paul, it’s so cool that you got a full ride scholarship!

You must be really smart!

I love when guys have a strong work ethic!

I hate to admit that I start feeling a bit irritated. A few weeks ago they all gushed over me when they saw my drawing, but now it doesn’t seem as impressive.

We come to a cliff that Lucy informs us is a popular climbing spot. “If you feel confident in your climbing skills you can go up this way. Otherwise the trail takes you to the top,” she explains.

“I think I’ll climb up,” Paul says confidently. The girls look at him in admiration. I can practically see the hearts forming in their eyes.

I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but I blurt out, “Yeah, me, too.”

As soon as we begin to scale the rocks, I realize I made a big mistake. Why would I think climbing was a good idea? I don’t have any experience and Paul is clearly in better shape. Of course, he reaches the top of the wall with no problem and I’m left struggling halfway up. All I can think about is how badly I need a cigarette.

“Johnny, do you want to just climb back down?” Lacey calls up, with more concern in her voice than I feel comfortable acknowledging.

“No, I’m good,” I lie. It takes what seems like forever for me to get near the top. Every passing second just fills me with more embarrassment.

As I approach the top of the cliff, I see Paul crouch down at the edge and reach his hand out. “Need some help?” he offers.

No, nope, not going to happen! I scream internally, but then I start to lose my footing. Faced with the possibility of this horrible moment being my last one on earth and forever cementing me in everyone's memories as The Dumbass Who Fell Off a Mountain Trying to Impress Girls, I see no better option than to take Paul’s hand. I feel defeated, but at least I still have the rest of my life ahead of me to try and save face.

“I have a lot of climbing experience,” Paul tells me once I’m secure at the top of the cliff.

“No problem, I was just trying to be funny.” Liar! Now that the moment is over and done with, I realize I’m more embarrassed by trying to engage in some sort of macho competition for the girls’ attention than I am in my lack of skill. It’s not the sort of thing I usually do.

“Oh, okay,” Paul responds. He doesn’t sound convinced but at least he doesn’t call me out.

“Are you okay?” Lacey asks me once we catch up with the others.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell her. Just a bruised ego is all.

“We’re almost to the top!” Lucy exclaims. We round the corner and Lucy guides us to the edge. “Be careful,” she warns, and I ignore that she’s looking right at me when she says it.

Cautiously, I peek down over the edge. I’m surprised at how much of the city I can see. It doesn’t seem like we went that high up, but laid out below us are hundreds of buildings and trees that seem surreal in their tininess. “Cool,” is all I can manage to say.

“I can see the studio!” Lilly points below, and the rest of us look excitedly at the building we spend 5 days a week in. It’s funny how something we see everyday seems so much more impressive when it’s viewed it from a different angle.

“There’s where the food truck parks!” Clara shouts and we all turn our heads like we’ve discovered a hidden treasure.

“Great, now I want tacos,” I joke, and I feel the embrace of laughter surrounding me. Maybe the day won’t be a total waste.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[maarga12]

How to Choose the Best Psychiatrist Near You?

It is not just about taking care of your body to stay healthy. Its also about taking care of your mental health as a stressful mind can deeply impact your physical health. Hence, if and when you come across a situation where you find yourself mentally uncomfortable, it is the right time to seek the opinion of an expert who specializes in treating mental disorders. In other words, see an experienced Psychiatrist.

However, choosing the best psychiatrist in Bangalore is nothing short of challenge.

This article presents some essential tips on how to choose the best psychiatrist.

A strong mental health today leads to a brighter tomorrow

It is of paramount importance that you connect with the best psychiatric doctor in Bangalore who can study your mind very closely and in depth. Here are few points that can help you as you begin your search for one:

Look for recommendations and referrals It is quite common to begin by seeking recommendations or referrals to the best medical expert to consult. Psychiatrist is no different. Hence, get in touch with your family doctor, friends for recommendations.

Testimonials from satisfied patients Nothing better than hearing to satisfied patients on how their experience was with their psychiatrist. This is a great way to move forward.

Location Convenience matters. It is always good to choose a psychiatrist who is located close by so that you can meet him without having to travel much.

Insurance covered Not all psychiatric treatments are covered under health insurance. If you have a psychiatrist who is with the insurance network, nothing like it.

Feel the pulse It is definitely a good idea to ask questions when you communicate with your psychiatrist. This way, you can assess his expertise and experience and ensure yourself that you are in safe hands.

Mutual Respect Since the issue has to do more with the mind, trust your instincts and assess how comfortable you feel in engaging your potential psychiatrist.

Emergency Care Choose a psychiatrist who is available at all times. During out of clinic hours, he should be able to advise you on phone in case there is an emergency situation.

Cost and payment options Look for a psychiatrist who is reasonable and has comfortable payment options as you would have to plan ahead in case of long-term treatment programs.

Finding happiness begins by healing from within. Mental disorders, if ignored, can have a deep impact on your health. Hence, do not indulge in assuming things and drawing conclusions. At Maargamindcare, an elite team comprising of the top ten psychiatrists in Bangalore will ensure that you thrive, mentally and physically.

[faeryblade]

|| Scopophobia || A Jonathan Crane Fic ||

Synopsis: It's just another boring afternoon at the office for Dr. Jonathan Ulysses Crane. Although, testing out his latest fear toxin is yielding some...interesting results.

Word Count: 5,534

TW: Dead Dove: do not eat. 18+ content, minors DNI. NSFW, SMUT. Gaslighting and manipulation. Mention of EDs. Degradation. Non-con. Implication of suicide attempt. Forced oral, anal. Use of aphrodisiac and fear toxin. Hallucinations. Power imbalance, therapist/patient. Age difference. Monster fucking (Scarecrow). Corruption. Ahegao. Creampie. Rick roll near the end.

Note: Uh, hi there. I got bit by a highly infectious idea and quickly developed super terminal Jonathan Crane!rot...which I guess I'm making everyone's problem now. This is the first chapter of a long Jonathan X Reader fic called: "Please, don't tell my psychiatrist-he'd kill me!"

Song: "Careful What You Wish For" by Jack Harris

Taglist: @caesariawritesstuff @greeneyedshooter @enochtopus-the-pressed

"I-I don't even know what I'll do. It's not like I can cancel now..."

Subject 76 picked at the fibers of her knit sweater anxiously, brows furrowed. There's a hitch to her voice. Her shoulders are slightly hunched over as if she's trying to protect herself from the topic at hand. Dr. Crane makes a note of this with a quick flourish of his ballpoint pen. Besides him, safe in her black iron cage, his pet crow, Nightmare, stares keenly at Subject 76.

"Plus, my friend has been planning this wedding for MONTHS and I'm her bridesmaid! I can't just not go to the wedding! I-I'd feel like...I dunno, like a bad friend-"

Subject 76 reached for the glass of water placed on the coffee table in front of her. She took a sip from it to settle her nerves before continuing to speak:

"Just the thought of letting her down makes me feel some awful way. Like, I don't know. I'm just, uhh. I'm just..."

"...Afraid?" Dr. Crane's smooth voice offers, almost seeming to reverberate in the air.

Subject 76 looked at her psychologist with a wide, doe-eyed expression. Her bottom lip trembled. It was a small, almost imperceptible movement that had Crane's pen scribbling furiously in his notes once more.

"No," Subject 76 denied immediately, then falters a second later, "Yes. I-I don't know, maybe??? I'm just anxious, I guess??? It's just that this wedding will be the first time in six years that I've seen my high-school friends. And I wanna make the right impression. I don't want it to look like I don't have my life together."

Subject 76 went quiet for a moment. Her gaze drew down to her wrists where thick, pink scars crisscrossed her skin. While the sweater she was wearing did its best to conceal them from sight, a few still peaked out and were clearly visible to anyone who had a wandering eye. Shame settled upon her.

"I've even started to...uhm. I..."

Subject 76 fell silent again. The woman returned to picking the threads of her sweater, tugging on its cotton weave compulsively instead of talking.

Dr. Crane glanced up from his notepad, peering over the top of his glasses to assess his subject. "Miss. Bree?" He asked, raising a single eyebrow. He waited for her to speak.

But Subject 76 pursed her lips into a thin line and ignored him.

Sighing, Crane leaned back in his chair. An edge of annoyance laced his tone as he addressed his subject...

"I don't think I have to remind you that the court has mandated your cooperation in therapy, Miss Bree. And...with anything I see fit to hasten your rehabilitation. Now, I wouldn't want to be forced legally to report you to your probation officer for resisting treatment. However, if I must-"

"WAIT!" Subject 76 cried out, terror in her eyes.

The smallest smirk twitched at the edges of Dr. Crane's lips, "Oh?"

Splitting open like a rotten pumpkin, the woman confessed that she'd started throwing up. 'Just small meals,' she'd elaborate further, attempting to lessen the impact of her words, 'Just the bad carbs and fats, nothing serious.' Subject 76 went on to talk about the dress she was trying to "look slay" for. How the bride had chosen a type of cut that left little to the imagination. And most telling to Dr. Crane of all; that she was frightened about what everyone would think when she wore it.

Crane placed his notebook and pen down on the accent table at his side, then steepled his fingers together, peering at Subject 76 with intent.

With hunger.

"Do you think your frankly lackluster endeavor to lose weight will be enough to stop the whispers and the gossip?" He asked off-handedly, making Subject 76 flinch in response, "And all the secret shared laughter at your expense?"

"W-what?"

"Just an observation, really."

Subject 76 looked confused. She blinked several times and wondered if she was hearing the what the doctor had said right. Or if somehow she was hearing him wrong instead.

"In fact, I doubt fitting into anything will improve your standing," Crane stated with a casual wave of his hand, "How do you know that you weren't invited to this...grand affair...as a joke?"

Shock spread across Subject 76's face.

"I-"

"If they were judging you in high school, six years wouldn't change anything substantial. They're no different than they were back then. Tell me, have you changed?"

Dr. Crane answered the question for Subject 76, not allowing her to explain for herself what he'd already figured:

"According to your records, you've been purging since middle school... And here you are now, still continuing to follow the same, tired, destructive pattern."

"Dr. Crane, I-"

Crane held up an authoritative hand.

"I digress, Miss. Bree," He said, "We've become a bit sidetracked here. Any form of eating disorder is categorized as self-harm. I cannot allow this to continue. As a mandated reporter, I'll have to tell your case manager. Unfortunately, I can judge by your previous history, that it's quite likely you'll be put on a 72-hour hold in a psychiatric facility. Probably here at Arkham. Contrary to Gotham's popular belief, we do treat normal citizens, too."

A fresh, new wave of panic bloomed on Subject 76's face. Tears welled up in the young woman's eyes. She shook her head, both hands rising up to clasp over her mouth, muffling the words she spoke and making them harder to hear.

"Hmm? What was that?" Dr. Crane nearly purred, making a show of leaning in closer to listen better.

"I-I can't go back there," Subject 76 replied with a choked stammering breath, "I just can't, doctor. I c-can't-"

Such marvelous fear...

Dr. Crane drank it in, savored it like fine wine. He wished he could bottle this moment to treasure for himself and keep forever. This was a human at their most beautiful.

"There is an alternative solution," Crane offered, only after Subject 76 looked about to vomit on his rug, "But I don't offer it to just anyone I treat. You, however, would be a perfect candidate."

"Really, doctor? I would?"

He barely suppressed his disgust as the woman shifted from fear-torn to hopeful at just the mere suggestion of salvation.

"Yes, but you'd have to submit to a new regimen and administration of medicine," Dr. Crane said, "Plus, we would be exploring novel paths of therapy that we've yet to approach in session. If I deem it productive, then I can forget about this reporting nonsense-"

Not to mention all the paperwork he'd have to go through because of it.

"-Does that sound amenable to you, Miss. Bree?"

"Yes!" Subject 76 answered brightly, "Anything to keep probation away!"

As if commenting on the woman's statement, Nightmare let out a series of loud, raucous caws that sounded strangely like laughter. Subject 76 glanced at the crow with uncertainty before Dr. Crane redirected her attention back onto him.

"Anything, hmm?" Crane asked curiously, taking off his glasses and tucking them into his breast pocket, "Well, that's good to know. It'll certainly make this next portion that much easier."

"Huh?"

Before Subject 76 knew what was happening, Dr. Crane was at her side; his hand gripping her ponytail and yanking her head back. She caught the sight of a spray bottle seconds prior to a strange, fine, orange mist enveloping her face. Crawling up the passages of her nose. Making her feel instantly dizzy and lightheaded. Sick.

"Yeeeah, that's right," Crane's voice cooed gently into her ear, "Breathe it all in, little lamb. Goood. Just like that..."

The effects of the toxin were instantaneous. With vested interest, Jonathan Crane watched as 76's pupils dilated until her irises nearly disappeared and her breaths came out in labored gasps that sounded painful. He grabbed the woman's wrist to check her pulse. His long fingers bit into soft flesh, leaving the crescent-shaped impressions of his nails in their wake.

"As expected," he spoke aloud, narrating more to himself than anyone else, "Patient is responsive to a 10 mg dose of K-series. BPM is at 125, within range of a common panic attack. Eyes dilated to 8 millimeters. Symptoms are much more evident than Batch 4. Most likely due to the introduction of fear prior to administration-"

A low, husky moan interrupted him:

"Mmmn, Doctor Crane. I feel so hot..."

Jonathan turned his attention back onto the test subject, who was trying to press her body to his in desperation. He felt his cock harden instantly. That spark of hunger he'd experienced moments before returned; but, it'd become ravenous now. Insistent. Snapping. It demanded to be fed. And this lost, little lamb was offering herself willingly to his opened maw. Who would refuse such a feast?

The darkness inside Jonathan took control.

Subject 76 gasped as his hand suddenly gripped her neck and pulled her closer. He grazed his lips along the woman's silky cheek, whispering softly into her ear-

"Hush now, child, your Shepherd God is here. All will be well."

-before blazing a trail of greedy kisses and bites down her shoulder, ripping off her sweater in the process. He threw it onto the carpet. Subject 76 hardly noticed. She was far too preoccupied with his explorations to care. Her eyes fluttered back into her skull as Doctor Crane teased the tender areas of her flesh with tongue and teeth. Searing heat coiled like a spring in the pit of her stomach. Another moan flew from her throat. Louder this time.

"Tell me how you feel?" Jonathan asked his prey with a commanding growl.

Subject 76 squirmed underneath his grasp.

"I-I need you," she replied, "Doctor, please! I need to feel you. I want your hands on me. I-I want you to touch me. Bite me. I need you-"

Jonathan Crane gripped her tighter.

"And how badly does that ail you, little lamb?" He crooned.

"I can't stand it!" 76 wailed out loud, tears rolling in cascades down her cheeks, "Everything's hot. I can't think straight! What's happening to me?!?"

A cruel smile curved along Jonathan's mouth. He could almost taste the woman's anguish. It was a delicious flavor. Irresistible, actually...

"You poor, suffering soul. Allow me to ease your troubled mind..."

Wrapping Subject 76's ponytail around his hand once more, Jonathan Crane seized control and dragged her face towards the bulge in his slacks. Surprisingly, she tried to resist. Visited by a brief minute of lucidity, the woman fought back on his grip, struggling (like hell) against the task he was setting her to. Jonathan scowled. He wondered if the toxin had worn off already? But another lusty moan from 76 indicated that it hadn't. It was just hitting her in symptomatic waves.

Whimpering as a new flood of heat overwhelmed her, Subject 76 wrestled with the metal buckle of Jonathan's belt and unzipped his pants. Her eyes widened upon seeing the monster that lay hiding in wait within his boxers. Huge, thick, and veined; the psychiatrist's dick eagerly sprang forth from its plaid, cotton bindings to greet her. It twitched with anticipation over what was about to happen. A sharp edge of panic sliced into her...

His cock was too big.

She wasn't given time to prepare herself. Crane's hand pressed down on the back of her head and forced his dick into her mouth. He slid his length as far as it could go, cockhead tapping the back of her throat before pulling out...then, slamming himself past her lips all over again. Each time, he pushed a little deeper, a little harder, until 76 was gagging and tears misted up her eyes. Jonathan let out a groan at the sight of it. The fear in those gorgeous, coffee brown depths made him want to fuck her harder and see how far he could push that mouth.

"Mmmff! Mmf-"

"Ahh, feels so good. Your pain is exquisite."

Subject 76 struggled as Doctor Crane increased his vicious pace and used her ponytail like a bar handle. He tugged, yanked, pulled, and directed every movement until she became nothing more than a living fleshlight. Forced to satisfy this tall, imposing beast until he was sated, 76 had never felt more helpless in her entire life. Despite that, a curious sensation was accompanying her loss of control; the enjoyment of his taste. A betrayal that she hadn't expected coming from her body! The doctor's musky flavor caused liquid heat to pool traitorously between her legs. As salty tang invaded her palate, a throb began pulsing upon her clit. Was she going mad!? How could any of this possibly feel good???

That's because you're a whore, sweetie.

The dulcet sound of her mother whispered softly into her ear. The tone was condescending, beset with mockery. Her father followed suit, his voice so clear (and vivid) that Subject 76 swore he was standing a few inches away:

We always knew you were a filthy pig, even as a child...

76 let loose a muted scream. Both her parents, in a unified chorus, continued their foul comments, prodding at every insecurity she owned while the only thing she could do was choke on Dr. Crane's dick and cry.

"Oh, you're in it now, aren't you?"

Suddenly, his movements halted. Subject 76 felt herself being hauled up by her hair to meet a pair of glowing eyes and a terrifying smile comprised of sharp, yellow fangs. She screamed again. This time, the sound was so loud it hurt her own ears. Gone was the famous psychiatrist, Dr. Jonathan Crane, and in his place...was a nightmare!

The monster seemed pleased by her horror. A dark chuckle rumbled from deep within its emaciated chest.

"My toxin has infiltrated your mind," It said with a relished growl, dragging 76 closer, "Past all your defenses. Can't you feel it tearing at your sanity? Breaking down your senses bit by bit? Reducing you to your most primal state?? Fascinating how a person can become so pliable with just a small amount of this in their system..."

Confusion washed over Subject 76. The monster was speaking eloquently. However, she could not understand any of it. Her brain had turned into a congealed soup-useless jelly-that sloshed inside her skull. Unable to make connections as it once had mere hours ago before she'd stepped foot in Doctor Crane's office. The ache between her legs was intensifying, the pulse tapping upon her clit less easy to ignore, and the sensitivity of her skin made even the smallest touch a torture. 76 cried out to God...

But only the God of Fear answered her: "Silence, lamb. Therapy is still in session."

One fluid motion was all it took for the terrifying beast to extract Subject 76 off the couch and up onto her feet. It dragged her across the confines of Dr. Crane's office, towards the gigantic curtain wall that overlooked Arkham Asylum's entrance courtyard. With a sharp and commanding tug, 76 was forced to stand before it, despite protest, so that she could see the goings-on down below. Another whimper fell out of her lips as her vision turned the gnarled trees and wrought iron fence outside into clawed hands. Five people suddenly stared up at the window from their spots on the benches near the Asylum's smoking zone. They looked so familiar. But, she could not remember why...

The monster slid behind her soundlessly. Its long talons crawled like many spiders up the sides of her arms. "This is who you really are inside, Miss Bree. Your truest self," It assured her, speaking in a matter-of-fact voice, making everything it said sound obvious and plain, "Just a trembling web of misfiring neurons in the amygdala attempting to rectify a reality too frightening to assimilate-"

The monster caressed her cheek.

"-I want to help you embrace your fear and truly understand it."

Those five people in the courtyard all raised their forefinger and, as one unit, pointed at Subject 76 with laughter twisting upon their lips. She shook her head. Averted her gaze. Took a step back to put distance between herself and the plexiglass window. Unfortunately, 76 was stopped by an unyielding wall of flesh. The beast's body was poised just a few inches away from her own and in response to her shame, it took a step forward, sandwiching her between itself and the tall, cold glass she sought to avoid. Subject 76 prayed to God again. This time, she promised Him that she would stop purging; that today was the last day she'd ever throw up her meals if He'd spare her life...

But only the God of Fear answered her: "What do you see, little lamb? What horrors keep you stuck in place?"

"I-I don't know!!"

Its spindly fingers roamed an idle path down her throat to settle upon her chest. She trembled as its razor-edged nails brushed against her nipples absentmindedly.

"I think you do," the monster insisted, "But you're resisting the awareness of it. We try to hide away from the shadows of our minds so we can live in peace during the day, don't we? It's only human. But you, little one, have nowhere left to scurry to. Nowhere you can run. The Scarecrow has come to show you the truth inside your fears..."

Allowing 76 no time to consider its words, it tore open her camisole top, exposing the bra that she wore underneath. The monster made quick work of the lace, discarding it into a pile on the carpet. Skeletal digits went seeking flesh. Subject 76 felt its boney hands grasp both her breasts and start to knead them roughly as panic washed over her. It pulled her nipples with hard pinches. First one, then the other. Then, both at the same time in a torturous rhythm that milked a lusty sigh from her throat.

76's eyes widened when she heard it. Had that perverted sound come out of her?

What a fucking slut!

That's the way she was in high school. We did it behind the bleachers, her ass was so fucking tight.

But she's so fat!!

So? The thicker they are, the thicker the juice.

Ugh, you're so gross, Mikey.

Voices from the courtyard outside intermingled with her litany of moans. The five smokers were talking, gossiping candidly amongst themselves, while they sneered at her from the benches they sat in. Subject 76 jerked away, tried to push off the monster so she could hide her naked chest and cover the shame that came with being seen. The monster didn't let her, though. Almost like it sensed her self-disgust, it pinned her up against the window glass and handled her boobs harder. Tugged and pulled them so that her rosy peaks stretched out. Pressed its throbbing, hard bulge into her ass so that she could feel it pulse. Licked a trail up the curve of her neck to taste the sweat on her skin.

The five spectators outside laughed in response to her struggles.

Pig!

Whore!

Slut!

Sudden recognition dawned upon 76. Those five, smirking people down in the courtyard were her high school friends. The ones that she would see at the wedding next week. The ones who hadn't seen her since graduation. Their blinkless stares drilled into soul her as if she were soft plywood. She could feel their scrutiny already. 76 let out a horrified scream:

"N-no! NO!!! Please! D-don't look at me!! Don't!!!"

Hot, fetid breath that smelled like decaying flesh tickled her ear when the beast spoke. "Ahhhh," It said with a sultry purr, "Scopophobia. The fear of being seen by others. Of having so many judging eyes on you. My, what a vain creature you are to think anyone would look at you? Well then, let's give your audience something...more substantial to gaze at-"

It yanked down her pleated skirt and pulled aside her thong.

"I want all of them to see and hear you sing hosannas of anguish to Scarecrow!"

Eagerly, the monster guided its cock to grind on the entrance of Subject 76's ass. And bit by bit, it pushed itself slowly into her tight, puckered hole. 76 clawed at the window as she felt this invasion begin to pump within her. Striking a curious spot inside her body that caused drool to trickle down her chin from the edges of her mouth. Each hard stroke that it gave Subject 76 made her cry, then moan, then scream, then beg the Scarecrow for forgiveness. But the monster continued to thrust (unempathetically) into her asshole without any regard. Bright stars exploded in rapid numbers behind her eyes. Building heat churned at the pit of her belly, threatening to combust. Her pussy became sopping wet as his busy hips smacked into her backside with more force, speed, and single-minded desperation than her mind could handle. 76 felt like she was going to go insane. If it kept pounding her like this, she would certainly die!

The beast let loose a satisfied groan as it tossed its burlap-shrouded head back, "Mmn, fuck, yes! Show everyone what a sick little dirty whore you are for the God of Fear. Let the many, many eyes witness your senseless fright, you pig!"

"N-nnnooo!! M'nuh a pig, d-daddy! I'm clean! I'm clean!!"

"You're as filthy as they come. There's no doubts about that," the monster growled low and darkly, clamping its taloned grip upon both sides of 76's hips to hold her steady while it readjusted inside of her ass.

Subject 76 squirmed.

"Be still, slut!"

This was the only warning she received before its cock went to work. Now, positioned at a different angle, the monster penetrated her ass deeper. A wave of euphoria and fear swept over Subject 76 as she felt sensation after sensation threatening to break her. In. Out. Faster and harder. Rougher. The sheer brutality with which it fucked her body senseless was quickly burning a giant hole in her psyche and rearranging her brain chemistry into a shape she didn't recognize...

A transformation, Subject 76 soon realized, that she was quite helpless to stop.

In fact, 76 found that she was starting to like this new state; moaning, panting, squirming, crying!! Begging for her life. Getting so thoroughly railed by the God of Terror that it forced her eyes to roll back and her mouth fall open and her mind to go completely blank with the only thought she had (or could adequately retain) being how amazing it was to have this monster's dick buried so deep inside her!! Subject 76 had even forgotten about the audience that was watching this.

Maybe she even wanted the audience to watch?

If she was honest, perhaps she'd always wanted that...?

"M'gunna c-cum!! I gunna-"

Something mixed between a scream and a moan flew out of her mouth as the monster hilted itself fully into her ass, sparking an orgasm that shook her entire body to the core. A moment later, heat spread inside Subject 76. Thick and gooey, it ran down her thighs and joined the nectar of her own cum. The monster continued rocking its hips and unloaded spurt after spurt of sticky warmth that never seemed to end. Aftershocks accompanied every lazy, squelching thrust. More drool trickled down her chin, more moans were wrenched from her throat. 76 was less of a person now than she was a fuck sock; mindless and wet and perfectly submissive. The terrifying beast that called itself the "Scarecrow" had freed her from all the worry and pain she'd carried inside and replaced it with inner peace...

And obedience to the God of Fear.

Dr. Jonathan Crane sighed.

The "Kappa Psi" series toxin was a success. After countless days and sleepless nights and seventy six clinical trials on his unsuspecting patients, Dr. Crane had finally created something even he was afraid of. The K toxin was a potent combination that fused Doctor Isley's plant pheromones with carbogen and cortisol. When administered, it'd attack the pituitary gland first. Then, hurry itself onto the thalamus, amygdala and prefrontal cortex, where it'd flood the victim in mixed signals that twisted fear and pleasure together. With the right type of psychological stress applied, a subject under the effects of K Toxin would be highly susceptible to subliminal messages. Dr. Crane had found on the third clinical trial that sometimes a complete and utter dissociation would occur where the subject was...altered after the toxin wore off. Around the fifth clinical trial, Crane discovered that he didn't need to do much to invoke that dissociative state within his subjects. He started feeling like a God who crafted his own men and women alike from the soil of fear.

But, after seventy-five trials, each one a success, he'd started feeling unsatisfied. Bored, even. And now, on the seventy-sixth trial, Doctor Jonathan Crane was ready to concoct a new formula. This time, perhaps, he would experiment with a toxin that'd stimulate a timed, cardiac arrest? It'd be a great way to study Thanatophobia.

"I-I obey...I obey fear..."

Interrupting his musings, Subject 76 muttered to herself on his couch where she'd been since he'd dosed her. Crane rolled his eyes. It'd been half an hour (already) and without so much as a touch or a whisper in her ear, the young woman had come undone. He adjusted his glasses, then peered up at the clock hanging upon his wall. He'd give 76 a grace period of ten more minutes before he used an antidote. After all, she seemed to be enjoying herself even if he wasn't. Her fingers ground into her groin while she chanted hymns to horror with tears rolling from her glazed over eyes. Normally, Dr. Crane would be enchanted. The K Toxin made his job as a practitioner of fear too easy, though. The finesse involved in scaring someone seemed almost obsolete, comparatively. A ridiculous and foolish notion but one that bothered him greatly nonetheless.

While Crane waited for the K toxin to subside, he scrolled through his unread emails...

Dr. Leland was requesting any and all additional files on the Page Monroe case.

Jeremiah Arkham had CC'd the entire asylum on the rules and guidelines regarding the treatment of patients. It was obvious this message was just for Bolton, however.

Dr. Bartholomew was reminding everyone who'd used the staff refrigerator in the past 24 hours to label their food containers and lunches to "avoid any confusion."

Mike Browne, a senior orderly who worked in the Intensive Treatment Unit, was reporting theft. A concerning amount of Propofol had disappeared from the medical supply.

And a "Mister E" had messaged him at midnight (three whole days ago) with an email that was mysteriously entitled: "Question."

Just as Jonathan was about to open the mystery email, a timid voice interrupted him...

"D-Doctor Crane...?"

Subject 76 was (finally) shaking off the effects of the toxin and coming back to reality. The woman looked confused, a bit scared as well. And when he met her stare from his spot, perched at the desk, Crane saw terror blossoming inside those doe-like eyes. But, other than that little detail, 76 seemed to have recovered enough for Jonathan to talk to now. Turning away from his computer and clearing his throat, he began to weave a web of (plausible) deniability that reframed the past hour or so in a positive light...

"Don't alarm, Miss Bree. You seem to have fallen asleep during our guided breathing exercises. It's a common thing that happens with patients who hold onto too much stress. Rest assured, you're not the only one of my clients who've passed out on that couch...and I very much doubt that you'll be the last."

Subject 76 immediately reached up towards her mouth, wiping it clear of leftover drool. Then, the woman moved on to smooth her hair and fix any wrinkles that she saw in her sweater. As soon as 76 felt put together, the woman risked peeking a glimpse at the doctor. That beautiful fear which he loved so much still clung to the edges of her gaze.

"So, all that was just a nightmare?" she asked Dr. Crane with a voice that said she couldn't be more relieved, "All the things I saw...they weren't real?? Even you reporting me?"

Jonathan raised a single, curious brow. He made a show of taking off his glasses, wiping them on the material of a handkerchief that he kept in his pocket, and returning them to his face before he answered the question:

"You had a nightmare, Miss. Bree? Well, that isn't all too uncommon, either. Guided breathing and meditation has been known to jog loose trauma from within our subconscious mind. That's why its use is so effective in a therapeutic setting," Dr. Crane said, then gestured casually over towards the wall clock, "But, I am afraid that will have to be a conversation for later. Our time today is up."

"Oh..."

"Let's schedule you for the same time next week. And perhaps this time, we can focus on staying awake throughout our session, hm?"

Embarrassment in the form of a rosy pink blush spread across Subject 76's cheeks at that small, wayward comment. She tried to hide it, though. Jonathan ignored this and led her over to the door, holding it open for the woman after she'd collected her things. As his patient walked by him, however, Crane froze her with an innocent question from out of left field...

"Before you go, Miss. Bree, I've been admittedly quite curious about something. It's my hope you can indulge me with an answer. What will you be wearing to your close friend's wedding, exactly? I'm not familiar nor particularly educated on the social formalities involved in such an occasion's dress wear."

76 paused, then replied as if commenting on the weather: "Oh, probably nothing. I want everyone to see my whore body. Wouldn't you, Dr. Crane?"

"Mm," Jonathan hummed in response before he closed the door behind her.

It'd started to rain outside. A light dusting of tiny water droplets were collecting themselves upon the glass of the curtain window beside his desk. Jonathan Crane could hear the pattering getting (progressively) louder by the second. He strolled over to his office chair, then sat in it. Watched as the storm rolled in from Gotham Bay and the icy Atlantic sea beyond it. Idly, he wondered if he'd ever meet a subject who could hold his interest? Or if The Batman, alone, would continue to keep that honor for himself?

Swiveling around to face his computer, Jonathan decided to open that "Mister E" email. He clicked once upon the subject line and was assaulted by bright green text almost instantly. A deep frown tugged on his lips as he squinted, trying to read the words despite wearing a pair of prescription glasses...

'Like a rhubarb, what also desperately searches for light in the darkest depths?

:3

I'll give you a hint: It doesn't crack or pop, but it can scream just as loudly in Arkham's basement.'

Underneath this was a picture of himself in a lab coat, administering a lethal dose of fear toxin to an Arkham patient who was strapped down to a surgical table. Another photo, in addition to this, was timestamped for a few minutes later, and it featured Jonathan wearing a badly stitched-up, burlap, respirator mask. The patient who was screaming in the bottom right corner appeared to be bleeding around the mouth and eyes. The final one was a zoomed in shot of his name tag while he was disguised in the mask: Dr. Jonathan Crane, MD.

He stilled.

Everything in the world went absolutely quiet. He could've heard a single pin drop. But the silence was quickly shattered by the sound of electronic beeping. Jonathan peered down at his waist belt to see that the Motorola pager he wore strapped to it was flashing him a message...

'9229.'

All the muscles in his jaw tensed.

Immediately, Jonathan turned off his computer and using a brass key (that he always kept close on his person), opened up the bottom drawer to recover a briefcase hidden underneath the cover of an internal partition. As soon as his fingertips brushed against the leather item, Nightmare let out three loud, ear-splitting caws from her iron cage. She spread her wings, then flapped them several times in apparent aggravation. The crow pierced Jonathan with a look that seemed to warn him of something that he couldn't logically discern. But, fear was not logical, he reasoned to himself...

...And the only thing there was to fear in Gotham City was the Scarecrow.

"Hold the fort down while I'm gone, Nightmare," he said to his bird, hoping that his request would help to ease her worries, "This'll only take a bit. It usually does."

Jonathan Crane strode out of his office with an incredible sense of urgency and ire. His old, leather briefcase was gripped tightly in his hands like a gun. Nobody blackmailed the Scarecrow...

Or lived long enough to tell about it.

[maargamindcare1]

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[alexandraisyes]

This is a flag I found for ASPD. There's an entire archive of support flags for people with different kinds of Cluster B Disorders. I just really like this version.

Antisocial Personality Disorder can be disabling and is considered a social disability. Depending on the psychologist it’s also considered an emotional disability like ADHD or Bipolar.

This may not make sense at a glance, but there’s psychologically found logic behind this.

People with ASPD have severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Chronic Depressive Disorder, and General Anxiety Disorder GAD).

The disorder also tends to be comorbid with Bipolar Disorder, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and Depersonalization-Derealization Disorder (DDD), as well as some psychotic disorders like Brief Psychosis Disorder and Schizophrenia. although these last two aren't as common.

There's also a chance for people with ASPD to have overlapping traits from other Cluster-B Disorders (NPD, BPD, HPD). And many people with ASPD struggle with impulse disorders. Common impulse disorders related to ASPD are as follows:

Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED): Characterized by recurrent outbursts of verbal or physical aggression that are disproportionate to the provocation.

Kleptomania: A recurrent urge to steal items that are not needed for personal use or for their monetary value.

Pyromania: An impulse control disorder characterized by recurrent and deliberate fire-setting behavior.

Pathological Gambling: Persistent and recurrent problematic gambling behavior that leads to significant distress or impairment.

Trichotillomania (Hair-Pulling Disorder): An irresistible urge to pull out one's own hair, resulting in noticeable hair loss.

Many people with ASPD also struggle with addiction and may be fighting addictions to drugs, alcohol, sex, shopping, binge eating, and social media because these are quick endorphin fixes that help us feel something due to the inherent nature of ASPD to be numb almost 24/7.

It's extremely rare for someone with ASPD to get disability aid. Which probably sounds ridiculous, when you look at this massive list of issues. A large part of it is our society. People tend to see someone who has a label that is synonymous with Sociopath and Psychopath (there's a difference between the two) and immediately want them in jail. And it doesn't matter how long they've known that person, or what their relationship is. (I got dumped last year when my ex found out I have ASPD and almost disowned during Christmas when I told my dad. The only reason I haven't been being that he thinks it's a demonic issue that can be "cured with prayer".)

On top of that, our psychology system isn't built to handle someone with a personality disorder like ASPD (or even NPD). I get told a lot "You're really self-aware." Which is basically them saying they aren't going to help you. Of course I'm self-aware if I'm going into the therapist's office for advice (at the least) and actual help (would be great), but I get turned away because if I'm "self-aware", so I should be able to figure it out. This isn't an issue that pertains directly to ASPD, it's also one that affects every disorder that's hard for a neurotypical to understand.

This is more personal. Feel free to read this in a mildly irritated, but not very much, tone of voice. Preferably a tired scholar from Skyrim, that'll make my day.

I cannot function in today's society. I can't hold down a job, and I've tried time and time again. I get a few months in and I hit a wall and my mental health goes to shit. I had to quit my last job for my physical safety because I got bored with just life in general, to the point I was seriously considering sticking my arm in a fry vat.

I haven't even managed to get a proper diagnosis because I don't have health insurance, and I have so many false disorders on my medical diagnosis sheet from my narcissistic father bullying my long-term therapist into giving me damn near every disorder except for ADHD and Conduct Disorder (I was below the age of 18, but it would have helped me in the here and now with securing the diagnosis I need for medical reasons.) Growing up several doctors I worked with wanted to get me set up for an ASPD diagnosis and my father told them no. And because of where I lived I had no say in it, and even if I did my father was abusive, so goodbye to ever speaking up for myself.

On top of that, I'm a woman. There's a severe gender bias in ASPD, as well as the fact that women with ASPD are reportedly less likely to be physically aggressive and more likely to be mentally aggressive, so our symptoms show up slightly differently than the stereotype. And don't even get me started on the stereotypes. Plus women are more likely to be studied for comorbid disorders than psychologists even considering ASPD. This is the same shit autistic women struggled with.

There's a massive underreporting in the female ASPD populace because of this, and a lot more masking going on because everything gets chalked up to "she's just a bitch" or "hormones". There's also just not enough research done on females with ASPD to understand how it may be different from a male with ASPD.

I'm tired. I've been fighting for a year to get people to recognize me as an individual who deals with ASPD. Every time I run into threats of being abandoned (which is horrible, considering I was abused and then abandoned by my biological mom, then put in foster care for the next 4 years), or the road block of "You're a woman. Are you sure you don't have BPD? That's the female disorder." Or just getting tired of the uphill slope. I only have so much stamina, and sure I have a lot of spite for the world, but eventually that's going to run out too. And then I'll probably kill myself.

The suicide rate in general is less than 2%.

The suicide rate for people with ASPD is 23%.

[mxboxlocks]

Could we possibly get a Engineer x Questioning System!Reader? /nf

GRINS INSANELY

reader is gender neutral and autistic!

warning for system loathing language at first, and unprocessed ableism. this gets worked through quickly and it doesn't linger for too long!

Y/N = your name

"Ah'm no psychologist," Dell says, lowering his reading glasses as he sits up in his recliner. "But Ah'm pretty sure that's not normal."

"I know!" You wheeze, face flushed with worry. Your frantic movements almost resemble stimming. You squeeze your eyes shut. "I don't know what to do! I feel like- I feel like-"

Dell glances down at his book. "Like someone else?"

"Yes!! I'm not- I don't feel like me, I don't feel like Y/N right now. I don't know who I am."

"Slow down," Dell purrs softly, getting up and offering you his seat as he removes his glasses. You quickly shuffle into the recliner, the ghostly warmth of his body permeating the leather and wrapping you in a hug. "Start from the top. What made ya feel like this?"

"I just... spaced out."

"Y'think it was anythin' else?"

"I don't remember-... W-Wait, yeah," You start, fuzzy memories pooling around you like fog. "I had... I had a meltdown. A really bad one."

"Explains the red." Dell mumbles, putting his hand to your face. "An' Ah'm guessin' you couldn't come 'n get me 'fore it got worse."

"Yeah." You whimper, leaning into his touch. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't, sugar." He hushes you. "Don't even worry about it. Let's focus on what we can fix."

"I feel dizzy. Is that normal?"

"Could be dehydrated-..."

"Oh God, I hear someone talking. It's not me."

"Y/N." Dell calls your body's name sternly, but not startlingly, and holds your hands to ease their shaking - they were shaking? When did that start? "Breathe, hun. Ah've known people with a lot bigger brain problems than voices in their head."

You're baffled at this statement. How could anything be worse than this? The statement is so strange to you that it forces you to ground yourself back into the chair - oh. That was the plan, wasn't it?

You hear a murmur inside your head, as a swirling feeling stirrs at the top of your head, near your scalp. Oh, he's good, the voice says, indistinct. It almost feels like a passing thought. I know, right? You off-handedly respond. It's not... an unfriendly presence. In fact, it feels like its been there for years.

"You have?" You ask.

"You've met Medic, sweetheart." He leans on a hip. "Of course Ah have."

You giggle softly. This Medic character seems like a handfull, comes the voice again. Yeah, you reply, typically he's rummaging around in corpses for fun.

Appalling. The voice seemingly turns its direction.

"Ya talkin to eachother?" Dell snaps you out of your daze.

"Yeah." You say, softly. "They're... nice. So far. It's just scary."

"Ah imagine so." He takes your hand aguain. "Can't be easy havin' roommates up there in yer noggin. But... Hey, whatever happens sugarcube, whatever ends up comin'a this, know Ah'm gonna be right by yer side."

"I wouldn't blame you if-"

"Nonsense." He cuts you off. "It's not like yer askin' me ta share ya. An' even then, that might not be so bad either. Ah've been in throuples before, it ain't so bad once ya get the hang of it."

Is that a proposition? Well, he is rather cute.

Hush. That's my man.

Well your man just proposed a polycule...

"Anyways..." He chuckles. "Ah love ya. Maybe... Maybe Ah'll borrow some books from the library soon an' we can both figure this out. Together. Okay?"

"...Okay."

"Now c'mon. Let's getcha some water."

[casualvoidbread]

Meet Dr. Satish, a Leading Psychiatrist and sleep disorders specialist at Maarga. Experience holistic mental illness treatment in Bangalore with his expertise in addiction and sleep disorders.