Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Psyche.

This Is Not My Room
Faith opened her eyes and sat up in her bed. The room was dark with a peek of light shinning through the splits of the window blinds drawn downward. She always drew them downward because she felt that less light would be able to shine through.
By Charity Faye Alexander5 years ago in Psyche
My tattoos meaning.
So the meaning behind this ‘simple’ tattoo is for my late boyfriend. Growing up I always wanted to be a tattoo artist. I done my first tattoo on my boyfriends dad in a caravan when I was 16. Wasn’t the best, but he trusted me and I needed to start somewhere. I also tattooed my boyfriend, we were both 16 at the time, and I tattooed a little blue star on his wrist. I finally got an apprenticeship at 19 and was on my way to my dream career. Me and my boyfriend spent an evening together in May and he helped me tattoo the Sun and moon one on my wrist (was before I knew how to tattoo properly as you can tell! Haha) I then cleaned everything and get another needle out and tattooed a simple Greek Spartan helmet on his arm, his turned out alright.
By Ca1115 years ago in Psyche
Watering your own flowers
Things 18 year olds should have to worry about: going to college, getting a job, voting, becoming independent, making that difficult transition to adulthood. Add a crippling mental health diagnosis to this, and living a “normal” young adult life is almost impossible. I was diagnosed with bipolar 1 when I was 18, months into my first year of college. At first, I was manic, on top of the world. Going out every night, waking up the next morning for my 8am class with little to no sleep. Maintaining a 4.0 gpa without even opening a book. I lost weight, had fun, and felt invincible. My mom was worried about my carefree, party lifestyle that was so drastically different than my high school experience so she forced me to schedule an appointment with a psychiatrist where they quickly diagnosed me with bipolar 1 and put me on some heavy duty medicine that would hopefully stabilize my moods and bring the real Brittany back. I thought that was the end of it, I’d be back to normal and life could go on. Two weeks went by and I fell into the deepest depression that I had ever even heard of. I dropped out of school, moved in with my nana, and fought to stay alive. Over the course of the next 7 years I fluctuated back and forth, up and down. Never seeming to keep my footing for longer than a month at most. My symptoms got worse over the years and I lost more and more hope that I would ever have a “normal” life. After a brief stay in a impatient mental health facility I really felt lost. I was stable, but numb and I couldn’t see my once bright future anymore. I shortly after met my husband and everything changed. I started laughing again, having fun, seeing my friends, loving life. He always pushes me to take care of my mental health, to be selfish. I went from a college drop out living on her Nana’s couch to a strong, married woman with a full time job working with kids with special needs, driving my own car, living alone with my husband, and finally having the independence that I have always craved. I got this tattoo during my recent manic episode where I learned a lot about myself. It represents me (I had the artist even make the girl in my tattoo resemble me) watering my own flowers, taking care of my own mental health. I’m quick to help everyone else but there comes a point in time where you have to put yourself first. I struggle with this everyday, and I am learning. But this tattoo is a constant reminder to me to care and love myself and something beautiful will come from it.
By Brittany Carnahan5 years ago in Psyche
AGORAPHOBIA
ag-uh-ruh-FOE-be-uh "An abnormal and persistent fear of public places or open areas, especially those from which escape could be difficult or in which help might not be immediately accessible."
By Cannon Outlaw5 years ago in Psyche
Scared of Being Scared part #2
It isn't easy to admit someone's faults nor is it easy to admit mistakes someone else has made that affected you. Coming to terms with the pain those closest to you have caused you in the past is probably one of the hardest emotional things I have ever had to do. I still don't know if I am going down the right path - but it is the only path I see right now so I will trek until another option may become available to me.
By Aurelie M Jones5 years ago in Psyche
Will pedophilia ever be normal or accepted?
So recently there has been Ted talks that focused on the idea of pedophilia being normal or looked at as the same as being gay. Of course parents and those of us who aren't pedophiles can see why this will never happen or at least shouldn't happen. I will warn you now this may be a little on the ramble side.
By Lena Bailey5 years ago in Psyche
Devereux Colorado
Devereux Colorado (formerly known as Devereux Cleo Wallace) is a psychiatric residential treatment facility located 20 minutes outside of Denver in a city called Westminster Colorado. It is by far the worst facility any parent can send their child to. As a former client (2010-2011) being there and suffering mental, emotional, physical AND sexual abuse, I am writing this story to WARN ANY parent(s) of a child who has as history of mental health issues to NOT send them here. My first month (September of 2010) was horrible. The minute I arrived, I was not greeted nor treated with any respect whatsoever. I was immediately stripped down to my underwear and had every part of my body searched and during that time I was touched inappropriately on my genital area. Staff would refuse my meals, slam my head against the wall, spit on me, place me in seclusion for an extended period of time not allowing me to have water or to use the bathroom, and EVEN would grope me. There was a staff member in specific named Andrew who would physically abuse me on a consistent basis, neglecting my basic needs by not allowing me to use the restroom allocated to each client living on the unit. It seemed as if I was being picked on by him just because it was me. Anyway, I started filing abuse reports to multiple agencies including Colorado Department Of Family Services. While it was my word against theirs, NO abuse was found. I was stuck living there continuing to suffer abuse DAILY by multiple staff members INCLUDING Andrew as I mentioned above. Some are still working there and there are those who are no longer there as well. Anyway, long story short I ended up doing well there by faking it and suffering the abuse so I wouldn't end up being in any sort of trouble. The facility had a level system, you would start out on "Orientation" once you were there. You would only have your basic needs, shower, meals and using the restroom IF that. Then once you are ready to be discharged to go back home, you would need to be on "Gold Level" I made it to Level 3, which was still good. The staff would take us on outings and would buy us meals on Thursdays ONLY for those who were on Level 3. Once I reached Level 3, I was able to go on these outings. One day, I ran away while on the outing and was arrested on multiple charges. That was my ONLY way of being discharged from the program. The point I'm trying to make is that this place is SO horrible the ONLY way out is by being arrested. Staff don't care if you're injured, neither do the nurses, supervisors, therapists or social workers. This place is absolutely horrible. When I ran away for 3 days one time, the staff on my unit NEVER even made an effort to call my parents to let them know I was missing. This place is disgusting. This place is camouflaged as a juvenile detention center. It's sad that most of the clients/students here that have been arrested would PREFER being in a Juvenile Detention center over this shitty place.
By Anonymous5 years ago in Psyche
The Seer
My childhood was rather haunted, repressed memories of my uncle sexually assaulting me is only scratching the tip of the iceberg. All around me at a young age i saw the death of strangers, some real, some just imprints of past deaths left behind. Drug abuse was at the epicenter of my mother’s side of the family, namely my grandmother. My mother and father always resented each other with me in the center as a middle-man. Within myself i found some semblance of peace, my imagination filling in the gaps for things i wanted to forget. Invincible heroes and justice that persevered and struck down evil, fantastical environments that overshadowed the deep dark i lived through daily. I lived like that for so long until life lost its magic when i started developing emotions, needs and wants that couldnt be hidden behind the curtains of my sunconsious projections. My reality became shattered in my early teens when i started experiencing just that; reality. Everything broke down in front of me and i built an ego to protect myself and build and image of normalcy, though that barely worked. I made several attempts at my own life before i created a makeshift solution; the seer. The seer by no stretch of the imagination was what you could perceive to be “real” but to me the seer was very real. As i denied myself the capacity to process all of my negative emotions i just shoveled it all into him as a way to kind of invent this seperate entity for them. I didnt feel bad things, i didnt feel sadness, or at least thats what i would tell myself. But as it progressed he only grew, the shadows of my subconscious guilt weighed me down to the point of lucidity, he took shape, he had a voice, and most of all he had a philosophy.
By Dominic Dorato5 years ago in Psyche
Letters to my mental health
Hey there Panic. It's 3.55pm on a Monday afternoon. The weather is gloomy and I didn't sleep well. I should be working but you have decided to come and see me. It feels like it has been a while. It's not so nice to have you around again that sounds horrible but it's true. Every time you turn up uninvited to my house you break plates and leave a mud trail across the floor and I am not sure how much more I can take. It would be nice if you atleast cleaned up after yourself but I always feel in a mess when you leave. Just once I ask you Panic, to at least throw some of your rubbish away instead of leaving it with me. It's kind of tiring clearing up after you.
By TheAdventuresOfRoo5 years ago in Psyche
Celebrities, Social Media And Grief: Why Do We Feel We Have A Right To Someone's Private Feelings?. Top Story - September 2020.
If reports are to be believed, internet trolls have chased yet another famous face off of Social Media. Actress Elizabeth Olsen, best known for playing Wanda Maximoff, aka the Scarlet Witch, in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, recently de-activated her Instagram account. If reports are to be believed, the reason for this is that Olsen was bullied by supposed fans over her failure to post about the death of her Avengers co-star, Chadwick Boseman.
By Kristy Anderson5 years ago in Psyche
Hey Depression!
Depression, Listen up! I have something to say, YOU SUCK!! YOU SUCK!!! YOU SUCK!!!! I'm sure you've heard this before from millions of people but now you are going to hear it from me!. You have been messing up my life since I was 8 years old and I hate you for that. I hate you for all the times you left me crying on the floor wishing I were dead. That happened a lot over the years. I'm curious. Does that make you proud? I let you control me year after year. I didn't go out a lot because you prefer I stay home, alone, crying in my closet over what a pathetic creature I was. I even helped you sometimes by making lists about all the ways I was worthless. I believed you when you said, " No one would care if you didn't show up." Depression you were wrong, but I'm sure you knew that and you were laughing at me for believing you. I hurt my family by not showing up to parties that were important to them. I hurt my friends by canceling our plans at the last minute because I ruined their evenings. No, you preferred to have me stay in and self-medicate. I used over the counter sleep medication, pills that were prescribed for migraines, and sometimes I would get my Mom to give me Valium. I just wanted to sleep to get away from you. There is no depression in sleep. Sleep was my best friend. It was my only way to really cope with the sadness and pain. I started drinking Nyquil like it was soda just to be able to sleep continuously. I started that at age 12. My Mother also suffered from depression and she took medication as well. The meds she took caused drowsiness. She also escaped in sleep. When I was 15 I started stealing her medication in order to get back to my friend sleep.
By Teresa Wegrzyn5 years ago in Psyche
The Unsparing Psycho Surgery
The Trans Orbital Lobotomy Dr. Walter Freeman, the father of the procedure that involved hammering an ice pick — like instrument into a patient’s brain directly through their eye socket, believed that this 10 — minute process will all but end the need for mental institutions. He had the best of intentions but wound up creating an entirely new kind of Horror Story.
By Manasvin Mahajan5 years ago in Psyche