There’s a process, and it’s boring on purpose.

Claims need a source. Prevalence figures come from the National Mental Health Survey. Treatment guidance is anchored to Indian Psychiatric Society clinical practice guidelines, ICD-11, and peer-reviewed literature. Legal statements — about admission, consent, or your rights as a patient — are checked against the Mental Healthcare Act, 2017 at section level, not summarised from a news article about it.

If I can’t source it, I don’t write it. That sounds obvious. It’s the reason some pages here took three weeks instead of three hours.

Indian data first. Evidence from other countries is useful, but treatment gaps, family structures, stigma, and what a family can actually afford look very different here. A statistic from a European cohort doesn’t tell a mother in Nashik much about her son.

Every page carries a review date. Guidelines change. Helpline numbers change. Drug availability changes. A page with no date is a page nobody is maintaining. Ours are checked on a quarterly cycle, and crisis numbers are dialled and verified every single time.

Corrections are made openly. If something here is wrong, tell me and I’ll fix it — and where the error was substantive, the page will say what changed and when. I’d rather be publicly corrected than quietly wrong.

I use writing and research tools, including AI, the way I’d use any drafting tool. The clinical judgment, the sourcing decisions, and the final word are mine. Nothing is published without a psychiatrist reading every sentence of it.