When Dukh Becomes Dopamine: A Letter to Fellow Therapists—

Jul 17
2 min read

From the Desk of Parita Sharma

Dear Fellow Therapist,

This one’s for you, who sits silently in the chair week after week, listening to stories soaked in sorrow, repetition, resistance—and something strangely addictive.

Let’s talk honestly today.

Not as professionals, but as humans who hold space for other humans.

Because sometimes, dukh becomes dopamine.

Yes, you read that right.

The pain, the drama, the heartbreak—over time, it isn’t just suffering. It becomes a pattern. A loop. A chemical comfort zone. A home, even if it’s burning.

A person (gender-neutral or female, in simple Indian homewear) is sitting curled up in a cozy corner of a room. They are wrapped in an old, tattered blanket labeled “DUKH” (in soft hand-drawn Hindi or Roman letters). The blanket looks worn but strangely comforting — frayed at the edges, patched, almost like a security object.

Why do they do it?

Because it gives them a story. Because suffering feels like proof of depth, of goodness, of effort. Because somewhere, someone taught them that if they suffer long enough, they’ll be rewarded—with love, with redemption, with a breakthrough. Because in chaos, they feel alive. And in calm, they feel empty. Because attention, pity, and self-righteousness are softer pillows than accountability.

The truth? They don't just come to therapy to heal. Sometimes, they come to preserve the pain.

To keep telling that same story. To feel the thrill of tragedy. To justify why they’re stuck—because look how much I’ve been through.

They say they want to heal, but unconsciously, they’re getting high off the suffering.

It’s not a moral failing. It’s wiring. And it’s hard to unhook from.

How do you identify it?

You’ll feel it.

In your gut.

In that moment when progress knocks, and they slam the door.

When every insight is met with “yes, but…”When sessions feel like loops, not ladders.

Watch for these signs:

They romanticize their pain.
They reject every possible exit.
They fish for validation, not transformation.
They say they want clarity, but resist it at every turn.
They wear their suffering like a badge of honour—or a crown of thorns.

And you? You’ll start to feel stuck too. Heavy. Foggy. Frustrated.That’s your cue.

How can we replace "dukh ka dopamine"?

First—breathe.

Don’t take the bait.

It’s not your job to rescue them from their suffering.

It’s your job to reflect it back, gently but firmly.

Here’s what I’ve learned over time:

Name the pattern. Compassionately. “Do you notice how we return to this place often?” Let them see the loop.
Stay curious, not reactive. If you get pulled into their emotional theatre, you lose the plot.
Use clean language. Don’t over-sympathize. Don’t collude. Stay grounded.
Remind them of choice. “Pain may be inevitable, but suffering is optional. What are you choosing today?”
Invite them into discomfort. Not just of the past, but of the present moment where change lives.

Remember Tom Cruise’s line? from "mission impossible" “It’s just pain.” That’s what we need to model—neutrality. Show them that it’s safe to feel pain without turning it into identity.