In Nepal, stress has become so normal that we rarely pause to question it. Students grow up believing pressure is the price of success. Families live with unemployment, rising costs, and years of separation brought on by labor migration. Women quietly hold households together, caring for children and elders, stretching limited resources, and carrying responsibilities that leave little room for rest. When life feels too heavy, we often sigh, “yo ta sabai ko jindagi ho,” as if suffering is simply part of being alive.
Yet this quiet acceptance comes at a cost we seldom notice. When stress lasts for months or years, it does not remain confined to our thoughts or emotions. Gradually, it reshapes the brain itself, altering how we think, feel, and navigate daily life.
To understand this, it helps to know how the body is meant to handle stress. Our brains are built to withstand short periods of pressure. When danger arises, the brain releases cortisol, a hormone that sharpens our alertness and reaction. For a brief time, this response is helpful. Problems begin when worry, uncertainty, and pressure never cease. Cortisol levels stay elevated, and what once helped us starts to harm us.
Research shows that over time, prolonged stress weakens the hippocampus, the brain’s center for memory and learning. This explains why so many people complain of forgetfulness, mental fatigue, and trouble concentrating. They are not careless or lazy; their brains are simply worn down.
As stress continues, it also impairs the prefrontal cortex, which helps us think clearly, plan ahead, and regulate emotions. When this region is under sustained pressure, even simple tasks become difficult—small problems feel overwhelming, patience shortens, self-confidence erodes.
At the same time, stress strengthens the amygdala, the brain’s fear center. The mind remains on high alert, as though danger is ever-present. This makes it hard to relax, to sleep deeply, or to feel safe even at home. Living in this state for years increases the risk of anxiety, depression, substance use, and thoughts of self-harm.
Nepal’s mental health landscape reflects this reality. Millions are believed to be living with mental health conditions, with depression and anxiety among the most common. Many adults report suicidal thoughts. These are not mere statistics; they represent real people enduring long-term pressure, uncertainty, and silent struggle.
Still, we often misinterpret what we see. A student who cannot focus is called undisciplined. A migrant worker’s sadness is dismissed as part of the sacrifice. A woman’s exhaustion is accepted as her duty. Instead of asking what pressures people face, we wonder why they are not stronger.
This perspective is especially damaging in a country where mental health care remains difficult to access and stigma runs deep. Many suffer in silence, believing their pain is a personal failure rather than a natural response to sustained stress. They blame themselves for struggles shaped by social and economic forces far beyond their control.
There is, however, reason for hope. The brain is not fixed; it can heal. Rest, movement, supportive relationships, and feeling understood all help calm the nervous system. Even small moments of safety and connection matter. They signal to the brain that it is finally safe to slow down.
Yet personal coping has its limits. No breathing exercise can replace stable work. No meditation can reunite families after years apart. No positive thinking can undo systemic inequality. If stress is quietly altering our mind, it must be treated as a public health and social issue, and not as a personal shortcoming.
Viewing stress in this way changes how we treat one another. It encourages kindness over judgment. It challenges the notion that silent suffering is strength. And it reminds us that mental health is not a luxury; it is essential for learning, productivity, family well-being, and the future of our society.
The brain responds to the world we build around it. The question is whether we are willing to change that world before the cost grows too great to ignore.
