Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Psyche.
Nobody Knows the Real Me
Nobody knows the real me and what I feel inside. Nobody knows how many times I’ve sat in my room and cried about the things that I wish never happened. How many times I’ve lost hope because times were getting hard, and my depression was really fighting back and trying to take over. How many times I’ve been let down by people that swore they never would. How many times I’ve felt like I was going to snap because people were really pushing my buttons but don’t because I know that’s not who I am. How many times I’ve had to hold back tears because I didn’t want people I didn’t know to see me cry. How many times I’ve forced myself not to cry when I was sad. How many times I’ve thought that I wasn’t good enough. The bad thoughts that go through my mind and how horrible they are really get to me and nobody knows that. How strong I have to be just to make it through one day. Sometimes being one of the strong ones means that I love beyond all faults. I cry behind closed doors. I fight battles that I never tell anyone about. I keep myself together so no one I love knows that I’m broken. I’m so broken that no one can even fix me.
By Patricia Meredith5 years ago in Psyche
PIECES
I was being held against the wall in a hotel room by my throat. My feet dangling in midair. My mind is racing trying to not panic however, at the same time I am thinking of how to get out of this. It is amazing how very fast or slow a mind goes in the face of danger. I heard the man who was tightly pressing his huge fingers to my throat say, "Don't try to take advantage of me.
By C~Marie Rhodes5 years ago in Psyche
Made Of Moments
Meditation. It has a way of bringing me to the present moment. Getting me out of my head and guiding me back to myself. It has trained me to slow down. To better witness emotions as they arise. And most importantly, it has taught me to embrace the pause. To take my time to respond authentically, rather than react without care or intention.
By Julia Durnin5 years ago in Psyche
The Battle for Sleep
The most strained relationship in my life is my relationship with sleep. I was the youngest of five kids growing up in a two-bedroom condo. In order to make the most of limited space, my brothers and I slept in bunk beds. Most nights, I spent endless hours staring at the slats of the bunk above me, letting morbid thoughts creep into my mind. What if the bunk bed broke and I ended up impaled on one of those slats? When that got to be too much, I would turn to the wall. The wallpaper was ships at sea and even though the image was always the same, the scenarios I created in my mind were ever-changing. Sometimes I would run my hand over the wallpaper, feeling the bump where my mother plastered over the hole.
By Mack Devlin5 years ago in Psyche
PSYCHOLOGY AND NUTRITION — How They Depend on each other
INTRODUCTION: To live a full life, we need to fill our stomachs. We can fill our stomachs by eating food. Food is not only a word, it has become an emotion for many people. If there is food before you, you keep seeing it or drooling over it before we start to consume it. In the present scenario, people are becoming foodies by eating the food they desire. Many people are fond of foods that are tasty, yummy to eat. They have their own favorites depending on the place they go. The states of our country are famous for different varieties of food. People say if you are visiting a place try its famous food. As we all know food is essential for our survival as it provides all the required nutrients for our body. Apart from nutritional usage, food is also related to a person’s mood and mental health. A person in any mood if he eats food will become normal. Food has been a friend for humans for a long time. Food is linked to nutritional as well as psychological aspects in a person’s life. There is much research that is being done to understand nutrition’s role in a person’s mental health.
By Sarth Sharma5 years ago in Psyche
Marina
Content Warning: Postpartum mental illness, depression, and suicide. Oizys was an old ship. Charles’ family had bought her in pristine condition off a Greek immigrant back in the ‘80s. Now her wooden frame was littered with dents, the copper plating turned green, and smelled like hell. The once brightly painted OIZYS now only read O ZY and Katrina would sometimes call her Ozymandian. In spite of these many flaws, she could be steered by amateurs and was what they had. All they had isolated in the Gulf of Mexico.
By Lucy Richardson5 years ago in Psyche
'I refuse to see a suicide attempt as something to be ashamed of' - How my mental health survived the pandemic
“In a world where you can be anything, be kind” as Caroline Flack so rightly put; being kind to others is important to secure a happier world, being kind to yourself is just as crucial. Many people out there, I included, like to put others before themselves and it’s at that point where you don’t realise how much you’re actually falling apart inside. Slowly, piece by piece, everything you have built up begins to crumble before your eyes, but it’s too late to recover from that.
By Lewis Jefferies5 years ago in Psyche
Daybreak
As I travel through my fifties, I am feeling a bit worse for the wear. I'm tattered, worn and often having trouble telling up from down. Luckily, I tend to have a hopeful personality and still believe that there are many good things coming my way.
By Juliette McCoy Riitters5 years ago in Psyche
Day 136
"Captain log entry. Early morning. It's been one-hundred and thirty-six days since I've been stranded here. There are others here with me at least two dozen, but none of them are worthy explorers or survivalists as I am. Most of them are tourists who expected an eventful vacation, a break from the grueling monotony of their daily lives. They speak of how this trip was supposed to be rejuvenating and calming. I doubt this is what they expected. After all, neither did I.
By L. M. Williams5 years ago in Psyche
Uncovering the Silence
Two weeks? They can't be serious. This must be some kind of practical joke. I can't survive two DAYS on my own, let alone two weeks. I always find excuses to talk to family and friends outside, keep myself talking. I can't stay stuck in my own head or else I start losing it. Keeping me here in an isolated, empty space for two weeks is just asking for something to go wrong.
By Jamie Lammers5 years ago in Psyche
