Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Psyche.
The Stigmas of Mental Health
I am going to educate you a little on the basics of mental health so you can be aware of those around you-- I hope to persuade you to think before you speak, because you never know who around you is fighting the invisible battle of living with a mental health issue.
By Clara Reinke5 years ago in Psyche
What Causes Depression
According to the World Health Organization, 300 million people worldwide suffer from depression. In the United States alone, approximately 6.7 percent of all adults have experienced a severe episode of depression in the last year. The good news is that older adults are among the few who have a lowered risk. It is estimated that only 1 to 5 percent of older people suffer from depression.
By Kevin Roache5 years ago in Psyche
Coming home to your soul
Agreeing to things just to keep the peace is a trauma response and so is the need to stay busy all the time. I wish someone would have told me that earlier so I could have begun my healing journey sooner. Children who grow up with broken foundations often do not know that they have deep hidden trauma and feelings of worthlessness in their minds. The whole ‘I am not good enough’ record playing at the back of your mind whenever something good happens to you or is offered to you, holds you back in life on multiple occasions. I don’t think that I ever wanted anyone’s sympathy, I just wanted people to understand. I craved the love I gave, and I expected it from the ones who could not give it to me. Maybe that’s why now I know what love is. Another thing that I did not realize earlier on was that if something is for you, whether it is a relationship, a job, or a friendship you will not have to force it.
By Devika Pathak5 years ago in Psyche
Life In Full Bloom
There I was. Toes in the water, head in the clouds. I was then 19 and it was another typical sunny September day in California. After chatting all night and advancing on a friendship that had been blossoming roughly since middle school, (the friend I shall refer to as Bloom) I felt as though I had so very much to say. It had been brought to my attention that life is never simple, and no childhood is ever perfect. We all tend to see life through different telescopes, some choosing to use their hurt to ensure that others never have to feel the same, as my dear friend had decided to do. Then there’s those of us who assume if they never speak nor think of the terrors which belong to them, every horrible thing might just one day dissipate. Our third group is where my heart seems to draw me, and my mind likes to mumble on to itself. This is the realm in which all aspects of life have things that should be said, but it depends greatly to whom which the words are spoken to. Not everyone needs to hear your story, but at least one soul should know the real you, from the dark and gloomy sadness which lurks around your memory, haunting you in your sleep and possessing unnecessary actions, to the gentle and caring, adventurous and optimistic sides of you. We have all hurt, and everyone knows sadness. It’s about how these things are dealt with, and the life we choose to carry on with that makes us survivors or mourners.
By Alexandra Lacey5 years ago in Psyche
Luck
I was the kid who got bullied, not lucky. Which explains why I am so greatly astonished when luck strikes me now. By the age of twelve, I had been repeatedly told I was fat and unacceptably overweight by both my peers, relatives, and even my very own brother. I can recall the exact moment in time where I decided to count my first day in calories. One of many to come, my self love or loathing became fully dependent upon the exact amount of energy which I would consume throughout the day. My family was vacationing in Mexico for the second time that year, and I was contemplating what would come of me eating precisely one serving of Life brand cereal squares, rather than brainlessly downing however many pieces my body seemingly craved. Little did I know the birth of my complex relationship with food had begun right then and there. I slowly found myself tossing aside fatty options, and turning my nose up at any offer of snacks. I banished all the foods from my body that my parents had raised me to understand were “fattening” or “unhealthy”, and soon decided to turn away anything with an uncertain amount of calories, with the exception of fruits and veggies.
By Alexandra Lacey5 years ago in Psyche
Rem
It was cloudy in the bar. It had recently acquired new management and they were apparently going for an angsty, gothic vibe. Patrons waded through a foot and a half of artificial fog in the low light. You’d think we were all vampires upon entry, but in truth, there might have been one or two, the first being the owner. Most of us were pretty dark and broody anyway though, so it was fitting. Being an unregistered Mags was a lonely life and the only safe place was the bar, so, naturally, we were all drunks.
By Max Malone5 years ago in Psyche
At The Hands Of A Familiar
I swore to myself once that I could spend an eternity in the serenity of the open air. Alone, undisturbed, and childishly pleased at the lack of a watchful eye. I’ve been a walking emblem of freedom since I learned the very word itself, always eager to be someone who does something. Could you imagine being just another passerby, a resident of Earth who lacks meaning in retrospect to the population of our entire world? There’s all this pressure in my head to be important and useful, but where to begin your endeavors when you know only what you’ve been taught? Despite what some may believe, we cannot change the unknown. The foreign to us may become familiar, yes, but the moon has always been the moon, marvelous and dented all at once, even before the invention of telescopes to confirm it. Similarly, I have always been me. Curious and wandering, but intuitive and bright where it matters.
By Alexandra Lacey5 years ago in Psyche
A Friend In You
Satisfaction to someone who feels they could never belong to anyone, is knowing that the sense of being different, or Riddled, is always there. What professionals refer to as depression, becomes this constant ally to us. We know it would never go away unless we will it too, which is quite possibly why it sticks around for so long. Even during lasting spells of happiness, we may be spoiled by joyful thoughts and pleasant actions, but once the lights go down and loneliness takes hold, we feel comforted by our dark friend.
By Alexandra Lacey5 years ago in Psyche
