If the 19th century was the age of neuroses, and depression the plague of the 20th, then the 21st century is marked by loneliness. The demands of modern work are encroaching ever more on the private lives of families already caught in transition between tradition and modernity. Life has accelerated; communication has become diluted, and we seem to have forgotten how to truly listen. Emotions are simplified, leisure is rare. The inherited models of parenting are proving inadequate in the face of contemporary challenges
My profession carries a rare privilege: being allowed access to another’s inner world, often in a moment of deep vulnerability, when empathy is most needed. It is a responsibility that demands great care. When a problem is shared with genuine intent, both parties become bound to it—moving together towards some form of resolution, forging a profound connection in the process.
Psychiatrists practise a branch of medicine where words carry unusual weight. More than in other fields, Hippocrates’ reminder applies: it is not the illness, but the person who is ill, that matters most.
First encounters are particularly significant—moments of unearned trust, the first hearing of a personal symphony. Much like the opening moves in a game of chess, early exchanges often shape the entire course of the relationship. In human affairs, the first impression tends to linger, and timing—recognising the moment when the ‘last drop’ spills—is crucial. When sorrow, jealousy, anger or rebellion rise to the surface, it marks a turning point.
I believe that true psychotherapy rests on an egalitarian exchange between therapist and client. Neither should assume ownership of absolute truth. Does this not apply to all relationships?
As was once the case in Vienna at the dawn of the last century, there is a strong and growing need for psychotherapy among people in Serbia today. Mental hygiene—an oft-used phrase of vague meaning—is gaining ground, joining the ranks of “developed” awareness such as that of healthy eating and regular exercise. Yet despite increasing openness to therapy, psychiatry remains somewhat burdened by stigma and prejudice. That is precisely why I envisioned my clinic, Reč (The Word), as a space for reconciliation—where biological psychiatry and psychotherapy may converge and intertwine. “Words connect people like bridges, yet just as often create unbridgeable distances deeper than the darkest abyss,” wrote Miroslav Krleža.
Therapeutic relationships aren’t always easy. While psychiatrists often assume the role of expert—identifying diagnoses, prescribing treatments— I believe that true psychotherapy rests on an egalitarian exchange between therapist and client. Neither should assume ownership of absolute truth. Does this not apply to all relationships?
This kind of support is all the more complex because success is harder to define. In classical psychiatry, success is marked by the disappearance of symptoms. In psychotherapy, however, many respected thinkers teach us that simply becoming more aware of one’s issues may itself be a form of healing. Whether one stops at awareness or proceeds further depends on both the therapist and the client.
The person seeking therapy knows their story best and is emotionally invested in it. The therapist brings conceptual frameworks and sincere interest. From this meeting of perspectives emerge hypotheses, insights—and a shared curiosity. If they see things similarly, the message may be clear. But when their views diverge, the resulting tension may be even more valuable. It is precisely in these acknowledged differences that growth often begins.