Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Psyche.
Parenting with a Diagnosis of SMI (Serious Mental Illness)
So, You’re a Parent Living with a Mental Illness. Now What? You can be a loving and successful parent, even when you're not well. One of the best things you can do for your children is to raise them to understand that no single human is perfect. Allow them to make mistakes without punishing them so much that they feel they must be perfect. They need to understand that they are human, and humans make mistakes, have problems, feelings, and emotions. Teach them to be sympathetic and empathetic little humans. They will grow up less judgmental of others and more understanding!
By Dulcy Warfield5 years ago in Psyche
Art for a Healthy Mind
Why Is Art Important? About five years ago, I was going through a nasty depression (again). I am self-aware enough to recognize it and attempt to pull myself out. I picked up a pencil and tried drawing for the first time as an adult. I quickly learned that I wasn't very talented. There was a lot of trial and error. I went through a lot of erasers and paper. But I didn't give up. I drew every day. I slowly improved. More importantly, my self-confidence improved greatly as well as my self-esteem. Eventually, I started drawing on canvas. Then from there, I started painting with acrylic paint. I became so confident in my improvement that I started sharing my art with other people and actually sold a few pieces.
By Dulcy Warfield5 years ago in Psyche
Listen To Your Body
Sometimes your body is trying to tell you something and you just aren't understanding. So a little bit of background on me… I break out in hives. Like a lot. It started when I was in college, it was sophomore year i believe. If i'm remembering correctly that is which doesn't always happen because it's been so long since its first happened. When I first broke out in hives I was shocked but not overly surprised at the same time. I have always had really bad allergies and so I would break out in rashes whenever I came into contact with one of my allergens. What did surprise me was how large they were. I have something called giant urticaria. That basically means that when I break out in hives, they're really big. Meaning they are almost always different sizes but i've had some that are bigger than my hands before.
By Mallory Johnson5 years ago in Psyche
Narcissistic destruction
I met him in my freshman year. We both attended the alternative school. Him because he was bullied and me because I was always in trouble due to a horrible upbringing with parents who were... let’s just say nonexistent. So starting off I was dealing with issues of abandonment and security issues. But he was the class clown and made me smile and that was a big deal for me. All he had to do was make me smile. And just like that I loved him. Or so I thought. I’ve since learned in therapy I more clang to him out of Ute desperation just to feel liked, loved or anything really. I was the one who made the move. Well my best friend at the time did. Kim was her name or her made up name for this stories purpose. She told him I liked him. And from that moment on we spent everyday together. He drove me to and from school. I knew from the first date he wasn’t only attracted to women. He checked out men in front of me. But I told him it was fine. That as long as he was with me and only me it didn’t bother me. We were dating about 6 months the first time he had an affair. He worked at a restaurant as a cook and a gay server started there. And every night after work he would come see me. Well this night he shows up with the other man. He tells me I am riding in the back and if I didn’t like it then get out. I wish daily that I would have went back to that moment and got out. But I had nobody to love me at the time and thought I needed him. So I spent the next 2 hours riding around with my boyfriend and his lover. He devoted all his time and attention to the other guy. But I said nothing. He took us both home and I was sick over it. But I stayed. About 2 months later my parent made an announcement. They would be moving several states away and instead of telling me I must go at the age of 16 they gave me the option to stay. So here I thought I was in love and I couldn’t leave. So we got our first apartment. I was 16 he just turned 18. Immediately the daily affairs began. I was stuck he knew it. Every affair came the one night apology followed by the I don’t want to hear you mention the shit again or leave. Followed by a list of musts for me to keep him faithful. This went on for our whole marriage. I started to hate myself and developed a substance abuse problem. I attempted suicide at 17 which landed me institutionalized. Of course as a minor your parents must get you out. But mine said they didn’t want me. So legal emancipation was what came from it. So more abandonment. Years of this went on. But he never physically assaulted me. Sometimes I wish he would have instead of the emotional pain. But we had our son at 19 and 21. Did it slow him?? No. Now he just had a tool to use against me. A little person to constantly brainwash into thinking his mother was bad. Over these years his family and I became very very close. I grew so close with his mom that I started calling her mom. And called her 5 to 6 times a day. Well fast forward a few years. He has yet another affair. I say that’s it I’m done. And I meant it. So he finally agreed to marriage counseling. We chose a sex addiction specialist. She told me 3 options. 1. Allow him to continue cheating and keep being hurt. 2. Open my marriage but us agree to what is allowable and what isn’t. 3. Leave. Well one and three hurt too much to consider so two it was. Well something happened with that. He realized just how many people in the world wanted me now. And he got jealous. So we bring home a man from a gay bar. And that night changed me. He smashed a line of crystal meth on my dresser and said try it. I looked to my husband and said should I?? He said go for it. I flew that night. Never to return. That night was in 2013. My son was 7. I didn’t come back home after that night until 2015. 2 years. Of heroin and meth use. Homelessness with this stranger from the bar. I lost myself. So when I got better in 2015 I wanted to come home. I did and the man I left with hung himself that year which caused a slip. I fell back. But I picked myself up. And a year later another slip. But I knew I could beat this thing. But how. So the next slip I left my husband again. I went to sober living. Only to be served with emergency custody papers. It hurt my heart but I understood. I was not being a stand up mother by any means and my son deserved better. But that letter motivated me. I didn’t pick up again. I moved on. I got my life together. And ever since that day October 31 2018 I have not used a drug or drink to mood alter. Now since then my ex husband yes now ex husband has tried to get me back as soon as I move on. But I don’t fall for it anymore. I know my worth now and I’m so happy alone. And I am alone. He has convinced his family I’m the devil and made up all the affairs and mental abuse. But you know what I don’t answer to him anymore. And I’m happy. Today I’m happy.
By Amanda Trusler5 years ago in Psyche
Please Remember to Breathe: my first experience with anxiety disorder
I have been dealing with anxiety for about five years now and to say that it has impacted my life would be an understatement of the century. It first hit me when I was a junior high school, during the first week back to school. I have yet to figure out what triggered the panic attack. I was in the hallway during fourth period, right outside the door, I was having trouble breathing and crying when the principal found me. Originally, I had left class to go use the restroom and that is when the panic attack hit me.
By Liv Atterson5 years ago in Psyche
Why I am Still Alive
He lays there so peacefully. Every once in a while I can feel him kick his feet or shift our plush comforter, but otherwise he looks like an angel. Besides the consistent snoring, every time he falls asleep before me, I always sit on his side of the bed and hold his face. I talk to him every night. He’s a deep sleeper, so I don’t always whisper. But, I like to put the TV on, just for background noise.
By Halli Booth5 years ago in Psyche
The River
I am going to be one hundred and fifty three percent honest; living through a pandemic is hard but living through a pandemic with a brain riddled with anxiety adds a little more weight to the existential doom that is already hanging over all of us. This is not an essay on how to deal with anxiety through a pandemic or some sort of lesson that I learned through this most recent anxiety attack. This is just a writing to reach out to all my fellow nervous people and let them know that they are not the only ones having an extra rough time this year.
By Shamus Hogan5 years ago in Psyche
What Makes ME Qualified to Talk About Mental Health?
A Bad Experience at a Young Age You'll be surprised what might traumatize you. I vividly remember a horrible experience from when I was about 7 years old. It wouldn't be until I turned 22, and had 2 children, before I realized I had a problem due to this event.
By Dulcy Warfield5 years ago in Psyche
An excerpt
You open your eyes, sighing you come to the realization you aren't dead. Staring at the ceiling, many thoughts cross your mind, ranging from intense emotions such as hatred to elation, there are thoughts of death, why you aren't fucking good enough, and lastly death. There it is again, always in your life like a dark, gloomy cloud stalking you around. Today could be the day. You decide to finally get out of bed, the sheets haven't been washed in weeks, if not months. The floor is strewn with dirty plates, empty cans, and dirty clothes. The ashtray on your nightstand is almost over flowing, ashes all over the places, especially the floor when you were too lazy to ash. Posters cover the tar stained walls, black out curtains cover the windows, you aren't even sure what time of day it is. On your desk you find the cruddy old school alarm clock, that barely works. I states 3:00. You open the murky curtains to see it's dark outside.
By Katherine Peters5 years ago in Psyche
