Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Psyche.
Helping Someone with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is not an easy condition to live with, either for the sufferer or the family. When I have a Post Traumatic attack, the way in which I can react can be unpredictable, and this can be stressful for myself, my other half, and my entire family. I can go for days, months, and even years and feel well; however, out of the blue that can change quickly. During an attack, I am moody, anxious, depressed, afraid, my perception changes, and I can be very sensitive to certain events.
By Carol Ann Townend7 years ago in Psyche
The Burden
What it means to be alone? What does that mean for me? It means half my life I had way prettier friends than I was. It means I was often the third or fifth wheel. It means I disappeared from the face of the earth when they were around me. It means boys rarely looked my way. It means that I wanted to kill myself almost everyday. It means my self-esteem was really low at this point. It means I gave up on me. It still means today that I don't like myself. And frankly, I don't know how to change that.
By Singster Jones7 years ago in Psyche
Thank You!
I’m not keeping it a secret that the years leading up to now have not been very kind to me, but this article is not about that—and indeed is not about me. It’s about you. Yeah. I am talking to you, to every person that helped me in their own way to be here today. To every person that helped me do a step forward even if I was pushing myself a thousand step backwards. To every single one of you that kept on pushing me, that kept on supporting me, that kept on loving me even when I hated me the most. For a quick background, I was diagnosed with major depression and anxiety more than three years ago and once you have that combination, it never fully ‘goes away.’ Mental illness is such a sneaky little bastard and really unkind to most—but yeah anyway back to the point I am writing this article to thank every single one of you—from "you" that helped me to even do the tiniest little baby step, to "you" that helped me fly those milestones…
By Mikaella Love7 years ago in Psyche
It's Okay, and So Are You
Whenever we are gloomy about the state of our lives, it often shows in our body language, in our facial expressions, and in the ways that we respond to others. Often, we are asked the age-old question, "Are you okay?" or some variant of the same, such as "What's wrong?" or "What happened?"
By Eva A. Schellinger7 years ago in Psyche
The Process
There are so many ways to handle mental health issues and I can honestly say I've tried several different approaches. My most prominent approach however, would definitely be avoiding and ignoring it. That was a huge part of my problem leading into the summer going into my senior year of college. I suppressed all of the emotions that were starting to eat me alive, and was I slowly began to crumble and lose control. After my panic attack in June, I decided to reach out for help for the first time ever and let me tell you, it was not even slightly easy. Like I've mentioned before, I was always the one helping my friends and family and was always "the rock" and never felt like I needed help. I've realized it is hard for me to accept help because I was so accustomed to helping others, and I felt a certain pressure to always be okay. But once my emotions started to affect my everyday life in a negative way, I had to put my hard-headed feelings aside and accept that I was not okay.
By Leah Pollick7 years ago in Psyche
Dementia, the Cruel Killer
Rumor had it that he was the angel of death. All the ladies who wore tight, white or silver curls delivered to them in the beauty shop were convinced he was the angel of death. He came to work each day wearing his outfit, scrubs that were a slightly different color. That was their first clue and then the last two times somebody passed away, he was seen entering their room—only minutes before their death.
By Denise Willis7 years ago in Psyche
My Mental Health Reached Breaking Point and I Almost Never Saw Christmas 2018 . Top Story - January 2019.
Mentally and physically, it was a rough night. From forty mile an hour winds to high waves, this night changed my life in two ways. My life could have ended, but instead made me realise I’m not alone. I stood on the edge of the pier watching the huge waves slam into the sea walls. The rain started to fall as I contemplated taking my own life. Me, a twenty one-year-old deciding whether or not to take my own life? That’s not right. Three out of four suicides (75 percent) are by men, which is the biggest cause of death for men under the age of thirty-five. I gazed off into the distance, squinting my eyes trying to picture the Isle of Wight out in the far distance, but that wasn’t working. The fog was getting thicker, making the scene more impactful and almost like a dream.
By Lewis Jefferies7 years ago in Psyche
The Most Underrated Crisis: Quarter Life Crisis
It’s 2017 in Chicago. Harsh windy day as it is January and I just landed my first full-time job, on my 22nd birthday shortly three weeks after graduating college. I cancelled a trip to LA with my best friend to go in on my first day of training at a globally-renowned tech company. This says a lot considering I would drop everything for a weekend trip.
By Paulina Pachel7 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 6)
Me. I need a therapist. Thank you internet for being one. All tips will go to someday affording a real professional. So, I consider myself an author. A novelist to be really unnecessarily specific. I've been writing and trying to get published for the better part of two decades now. I'm a veteran NaNoWriMo-er and a perpetual reviser of have a half dozen mostly completed manuscripts. Over the last several years, I've managed to carve out a few publications: One short story, some poems, and a few essays. Before that, I went on to get my masters in creative writing.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy7 years ago in Psyche
I Am a Mom with an Eating Disorder
It was the end of 2017 and I noticed a shift. In a way, I had gotten used to the frequent anxiety attacks and bouts of depression. This was different. I felt like a bottomless pit. I was constantly eating for no reason other than I felt compelled to. I was eating two to three times the "normal" amount almost every day and my body started to reflect that. But more than the physical changes, I noticed the mental changes. Every time that I was left in a pile of candy and snack cake wrappers late at night, I felt guilty. I felt ashamed. I felt out of control. I was eating the snacks that we were buying for our kids and even though they never went without, it got to a point where it was costly. I was having to buy more than I normally would in order to feed my appetite. My husband would come home from work, walk in the kitchen, and ask something along the lines of, "Where did all the fruit snacks go?" I had to look at him, the obvious shame and embarrassment in my eyes, and tell him that I ate them all. In one sitting. I was bawling all the time, depressed, because I didn't know how to stop. Finally, after a few months of this, I decided to seek help.
By Tiffany Green7 years ago in Psyche
Self-Image
Everywhere I go, people are always commenting on how I look, and that happens even if I have a day with no makeup, in pajamas, or dressed in my glad-rags. I don't have a problem with the person telling me these things, the problem I have is I can't see it. The other day I went makeup-less and dressed down and everyone said I looked good, but without my "smart look" I felt unconfident. However, if someone compliments me when I look smart, I still can't truly see it.
By Carol Ann Townend7 years ago in Psyche
