Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Psyche.

Addicted Mom
I am a mother to 5 year old boy, he is the greatest thing in the world. But I am also an addict, I’ve been an addict since well before he was born. I love him dearly but love doesn’t conquer addiction. I wish he was all I needed to stop. I’ve been a great mother most of the time and sometimes not such a great one. There have been times addiction has gotten the best of me and my mother in law was the one that helped me with my son, so my son didn’t have to seen me like that. I am greatful for the support I have around me, but I didn’t always have that support. Before I had that support I was a mess ! I would go back and forth from being clean to not being clean and back to clean again, all the while I had my son. Trying to put him and his needs first some days I could barely get out of bed from being sick, but I still got up and did the things I needed to do. The worst part was me using around him when he was a baby to a toddler. I always did what I had to make sure he had everything he needed and made sure he was taken care of. Even though I did make sure he was taken care of and had everything I still felt like a horrible mom because I couldn’t give up the drugs and even more horrible because I couldn’t give them up for him! No one understands that no matter how much you love someone especially your children, the drugs always have a tighter grip on you.
By trisha raybuck5 years ago in Psyche
Purple Hibiscus
Sitting in the driver’s seat of my silver Suzuki SX4, parked in our closed garage, lights out. Pitch black. At thirty-five years of life, my Suzuki is the only thing I have to show for any accomplishment. More tears filled my eyes, I did not even earn or buy this car, it was a gift from my father. Granted the gift came from a time I was doing well for myself and he wanted to help ensure I was safe when I was driving for work. Yet, it was in my name and mine alone. I gave up everything to get married and take a chance on a new direction. Thus, it felt right that it would be the only place fitting to end it all. In my lap sat my black 9mm Smith and Weston compact handgun. “This is it,” I thought to myself, “this time it really will be my end, no more changing my mind, just let go.” But, I am terrified. I do not want to, rather I feel I have to unburden those around me. I feel useless.
By Christine 5 years ago in Psyche
It is never ending please unchain me
He was impressed by the bikes that crossed the street. The pure sight of their shape, the people who sat on them, the history of the people who made the construction possible, the physics which seemed to be self-evident. it had been a few hundred thousand years before that point was reached. Shouldn't they just collapse? Sink into the ground? He imagined how they shattered into their individual parts, each particle, small, completing the whole. They came from the spirit.
By Leon 5 years ago in Psyche
Lies of My Past
I was a liar—a big one. Not because I wanted to be but because it was easier that way. People didn't want to hear my truth. Most of them would instead have believed that I was alright, and all was well with my world because then they didn't have to do shit. Humans always seemed to want to take the easy route, in my former opinion, probably because "the easy route" means less mental stress and less physical work. Here is an example that should help me illuminate this to you: a few years ago, while attending university, I was in a deep depression, and like your average learner, I tended to struggle with keeping up with the workload of multiple courses. Which meant my homework didn't always get done when it needed to be. So I often found myself lying to professors in hopes of getting a second chance of finishing whatever needed to be completed, and it usually worked. There was this one time, in particular, where I had procrastinated past a due date; when I went to the professor's office to ask for more time, I lied and said I was under a lot of stress and was sorry for the inconvenience it would cause her, my professor, of turning in late work if she allowed me to submit it.
By Megan Sartori5 years ago in Psyche
Alcoholism
about alcoholism… People use the word alcoholism and alcoholic but are not always certain of what it means or what it actually is. It is a dependency or addiction to alcoholic drinks.
By Chrissie Morris Brady5 years ago in Psyche
Compulsive Liars
Have you ever known someone that you asked a fairly innocent question, like ”Did you ever have a beard?”, and much later you discover their reply was a lie? You wonder, why on earth would they have lied about that? What difference would telling the truth have made? And your opinion of that person slips a bit.
By Chrissie Morris Brady5 years ago in Psyche
An Open Letter to My Family
Do you remember this little girl? This sweet girl who deserved love, who deserved to be cared for. This little girl who deserved to be protected. This little girl who grew up to have PTSD and anxiety and crippling mental issues because her family didn't protect her.
By Tawny Skye5 years ago in Psyche
The six stages
I grew up the youngest of a blended family, between my mom and dad it was just me, on my fathers side he has a daughter, my mother side she has a son and daughter making it four of us.
By SMc5 years ago in Psyche
No respite for the restless...
I wonder if it's just me that's constantly struggling to find some peace. My mind seems to always be halfway off, but trapped in a purgatory between
By Tash Erd5 years ago in Psyche
Sharing My Experience
As a 19-year-old, I may not have as many stories as others sharing about their mental health. Unfortunately, my trauma started early, so early that I'm not even really sure when it started.
By Kayleigh5 years ago in Psyche
Cigars to Save Lives
Depression is a funny thing. There is no big defining moment where you finally conquer your inner demons. More like a lot of small battles that don't seem to matter that add up. I remember back when. I would wake up look at a few bottles of pills and think not today, today will be better. I never actually believed and was convinced I was lying to myself because don't you know there is no deception like self-deception. Every day before I went to sleep, I looked at those bottles thinking that I would wait till morning to decide after a night's sleep. In truth I don't know how long this cycle went. I don't even remember when it stopped. The thought of death was always present in the background. I was isolated not talking to anyone. I was subconsciously trying to lessen the impact my death would have. It's weird you think if you push everyone away, they won't be sad at your death. While not trying to plug the idea of smoking it was cigars that caused the first many victories. I'm a smoker and someone reached out to me to meet for cigars. Now if you don't know anything about smoking actual cigars hand rolled make cigarettes look pathetic by comparison. How could I pass it up? Something about the extra nicotine made me more relaxed and let me enjoy myself for a while. It started to be a thing to meet for dinner and then talk over cigars. Small amounts of human contact helped distract from the feelings making me depressed but, not enough to make them go away entirely. The next small victory came from someone new being hired at work. Now this whole time I had learned to act normal in public. I normally let myself only let my guard down by myself. I don't why I wanted to spend more time with them. I imagine it was probably a mix of those cigar meetings made me realize how much I missed human contact, wanting to spend time with someone close to my own age, and the fact she was almost contagiously happy most days. I even caught I genuinely smiling around her instead of faking feeling happy. It's funny someone can affect someone without realizing it. Not going to lie I was kind of awkward trying to talk her but, hell it had been a while since I had initiated trying to spend time with someone socially. The other person I was spending time with initiated the idea of spending time socially. Now before this goes off the rails and people start thinking this is a love story, I'll clarify. It was something so much simpler just someone trying to make a friend, so they didn't feel so lonely and trapped. It may sound stupid but without all those small meetings for cigars which were in themselves small victories I don't think I would have gotten to this point. Over time I started feeling more comfortable spending time with them and those things I had been telling myself in the morning and night didn't seem like lies anymore. One day I woke up drank a cup of coffee with a cig and it wasn't till about halfway through I realized I had skipped my dark morning ritual and then I realized I had skipped it for a few days the night one to. It had stopped so gradually I didn't even notice right away. Wasn't long till I was starting to have hopes and dreams again. I tell this story for two reasons for those of you who feel lost and hopeless it can get better and for those not struggling it took someone reaching out to me for the change to start. This story could have had a very different ending if not for that.
By Thelomanious Skorinko5 years ago in Psyche
Nananell has arrived
Well hi everyone. I am Nananell and I only really began learning about social media and digital anything in the last month or so. Don’t get me wrong, I had Facebook and apparently I had a twitter account but I had no idea of the opportunities that Social Media has for artists, creators, business people or anyone else in the world.
By Janelle Reeves5 years ago in Psyche