Mr. A was the kind of patient one does not forget — a 30-year-old IT professional, meticulous, polite, and, until recently, the kind of man who could debug your server and charm your parents at the same time. But when he started insisting that his office AC vents were bugged and that the evening news anchor was dropping coded threats about him, his family realized this was not just overwork or screen fatigue.
When he walked into my clinic, flanked by a confused but hopeful younger brother and a deeply worried mother, he was convinced I, too, might be part of the “network.” (I must admit, it was the first time someone accused me of being a secret agent — I took it as a compliment.)
Mr. A was eventually diagnosed with schizophrenia, marked by delusions of persecution and reference. Naturally, the news did not land gently. His family — loving, educated, but steeped in the cultural fear of ‘what people will say’ — did what many families do: they tried to hide it. They requested, half-whispering, that I not write it in the file. “Can’t we just call it stress?” his mother asked.
Initially, they leaned toward faith healing, hoping perhaps a priest or baba could ‘pull the darkness out of him.’ It is not uncommon. In fact, I have lost count of how many patients come to me after a round of “holy water and incense” therapy. But with some gentle nudging, many cups of tea, and several family counselling sessions later, they began to see things differently.
We started Mr. A on antipsychotic medication. Slowly, the fog began to lift. His paranoid ideas did not disappear overnight, but they softened. He began sleeping better, laughing at jokes again, and even resumed reading tech blogs — a hopeful sign that his mind was re-engaging with reality.
Three months in, he surprised us all: “Doc, I think the news anchor is just… annoying, not dangerous.” Progress!
With continued treatment and family support, Mr. A returned to work — this time in a role with fewer stressors and more flexibility. His family, once afraid of shame and secrecy, now sit in on mental health webinars and talk openly about their journey with friends. They even refer others to me — though they always add, “But don’t tell them it was us.”
Mr. A’s story is a testament to the power of early intervention, medication, therapy — and most importantly, the willingness to change minds and hearts. But not every patient has this trajectory. Not every family finds their way through the fog of stigma.
And so, one wonders: In a society that treats diabetes as a disease but schizophrenia as a secret, how many more Mr. A’s are we failing to see, failing to help?
Dr. Varchasvi Mudgal
Assistant Professor
Department of Psychiatry
MGM Medical College, Indore
