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Hi guys!!!!! I am here with my first update...This is for all those who supported me...Love u and Thanks a lot...vrushika, zigzagway_sadi 😃 😳
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Tall, thin and attractive with long black hair, Heer had sad dark brown eyes. Her melancholy eyes overpowered her loose navy blue business suit as she sat nervously in the large white leather reclining chair in my office.
Heer felt compelled to see me. "I don't know much about why you're here," I commented, breaking the usual impasse at the beginning of therapy. I had briefly glanced at the information sheet all new patients fill out. Name, age, referral source, chief complaints and symptoms. Heer had listed grief, anxiety, and sleep disturbance as her major maladies.
"My life is such a mess," she stated. Her history began to pour out, as if it were finally safe to talk about these things. The release of pent-up pressure was palpable. Despite the drama of her life's story and the depths of emotion lying just under the surface of her telling it, Heer quickly minimized its importance..."My story is not as dramatic as it might sound to you".
Her story, dramatic or not, flowed forth.
Heer was a successful fashion designer with her own boutique in Dehradun. Twenty-three years old, she was born and reared in rural Madhya Pradesh. She grew up on a large farm with her parents, an older brother, and many animals. Her father was a hard-working, stoical man who had great difficulty expressing his emotions. When he did display emotion, it was usually anger and rage. He would lose his temper and lash out impulsively at his family, sometimes striking her brother. The abuse Heer received was only verbal, but it hurt her greatly.
Deep withing her heart, Heer still carried this childhood wound. Her self-image had been damaged by her father's condemnations and criticisms. A profound pain enveloped her heart.
Fortunately her father's outbursts were infrequent, and he quickly retreated to the stern and stoical isolation that characterized his personality and behavior.
Heer's mother was a progressive and independent woman. She promoted Heer's self-reliance while remaining warm and emotionally nurturing. Because of the children and the times, she chose to stay on the farm and to tolerate reluctantly her husband's harshness and emotional withdrawal.
"My mother was like an angel," Heer went on. "Always there, always caring, always sacrificing for the sake of her children." Heer, the baby, was her mother's favorite. She had many fond memories of childhood. The fondest of all were times of closeness to her mother, of the special love that bonded them together and that maintained itself over time.
Heer grew up, was graduated from high school, and went away to college in Dehradun, where she had been offered a generous scholarship. Dehradun seemed like an exotic adventure to her and she lured away from the cold farm. Her mother reveled in Heer's adventure. They were best friends, and even though they mostly communicated by phone and mail, their mother-daughter relationship stayed strong. Holidays and vacations were happy time for them, as Heer never missed a chance to go back home.
During some of these visits, Heer's mother talked about settle-ling in a village somewhere near Dehradun to be near Heer. So, Heer stayed in Dehradun after college. She started her own boutique, which was slowly building. Competition was keen, and the work absorbed great chunks of her time. All this was really stressful for her.
Then disaster struck. Heer was devastated because of her mother's death from pancreatic cancer. Heer felt as if her own heart had been torn apart and ripped out by the death of her beloved mother. She was having an enormously difficult time resoving her grief. She couldn't integrate it, couldn't understand why this had to happen.
Heer painfully told me about her mother's courageous battle with the virulent cancer that ravaged her body. Her spirit and her love remained untouched. Physical separation was inevitable, quietly but persistently approaching. Heer's father, grieving in anticipation, grew even more distant, wrapped in his solitude. Her brother, went away and did not look back...he left them.
She had no one with whom to share her fears and her pain. She did not want to burden her dying mother any more than was absolutely necessary. So, Heer kept her despair inside, and each day felt increasingly heavy.
"I will miss you so much...I love you," her mother told her. "The most difficult part is leaving you. I am not afraid of dying. I am not afraid of what awaits me. I just don't want to leave you yet..."
As she grew weaker and weaker, her mother's resolve to stay longer gradually diminished. Death would be a welcome relief from the debility and the pain. Her last day arrived.
Heer's mother was in the hospital, the small room crowded with family and visitors. Her breathing became erratic. The urine tubes showed no drainage; her kidneys had ceased to function. She lapsed into and out of consciousness. At one point Heer found herself alone with her mother. At this moment her mother's eyes widened, and she became lucid again.
"Rishton mein aakhri mulakat nahi hoti, aakhri lamha hota hai jo zindagi bhar yaad ata hai...us ek lamhe ko mujhe ma ke ankhon se churanede e-khuda...ma ko apne paas bulaliya hai aapne, unka khayal rakhna..."
"I won't leave you," her mother said in a suddenly firm voice. " I will always love you!"
Those were the last words Heer heard from her mother, who now lapsed into a coma. Her respirations became even more erratic, with long stops and sudden, gasping stars.
Soon she was gone. Heer felt a deep and gaping hole in her heart and in her life. She could actually feel a sharp aching in her chest. She felt she would never be completely whole again. She cried for months. She missed the frequent phone calls with her mother. Her grief began to evolve in to a depression with increasingly significant symptoms. She was having problems sleeping at night. She lost interest in food and began losing weight. She had a noticeable lack of energy. She couldn't concentrate on anything.
Heer's anxiety levels increased dramatically after her mother's death. She had lost her daily confidence and adviser, her closest friend. She had lost her primary source of guidance and support. Heer felt disoriented, alone, adrift.
She called for an appointment.
Heer came into my office hoping to find a past life in which she had been together with her mother or to contact her in a mystical experience. Heer was hoping for some type of reunion or contact with her mother. Her heartache needed some balm to ease the constant pain.
Because of her outer beauty, many men had tried to date her, but she had lost her heart, she no longer believed in any kind of a relationship. The loss of her mother was much more severe. She had thrown herself into her work, enlarging her boutique, hiding behind the numbers, calculations, dresses and fake happiness. Her relationships primarily consisted of business contacts. And even though from time to time a man would ask her out, Heer would simply refuse.
Then she started having visions...she began to hope to meet the perfect man someday, but she had lost a great deal of confidence.
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From here started the therapy but no one knew what was awaiting Heer...The God up above knew that Heer had suffered enough pain, she had suffered her part in this lifetime. Now it was time for her to live again, to laugh...to meet the 'someone special', whom she can LOVE...and you know guys, one thing that I have learnt from Prem-Heer is that in a relationship, "There can be respect, and there can be compassion, but the chemistry has to be there from the start"
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The chemistry, the beautiful silent feeling that come to me when I see Prem and Heer together makes me fall for them again and again...They are the only couple for whom my heart beats...you all know what I mean...❤️
Love you guys...hope that you liked the update.
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