Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Psyche.
My Tattoo Helps Me Fight My Depression
For roughly 10 years, I have been suffering from depression. It went undiagnosed and untreated for far too many years. I didn't take the step to attempt to get help until I had a breakdown and my suicidal thoughts and ideations were becoming too much for me to handle. Before talking to my doctor about it, I had just accepted that my depression would control the rest of my life.
By Natalia Darby7 years ago in Psyche
A Bit About BPD
BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) or EUPD (Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder) as doctors and psychiatrists now call it, is a disorder where individuals have unstable relationships with others, an unstable sense of self and have unstable emotions, causing long term abnormal behaviour characteristics.
By Keeley Seatherton7 years ago in Psyche
World Mental Health Day
Do you ever find yourself struggling to accomplish the smallest task and blaming yourself for it? Have you ever continued with a chore despite everything getting in your way, or just plain going wrong? Are your dirty dishes piling higher in your sink, and you know you should do them but just can’t bring yourself to?
By M.G. Sprinkle7 years ago in Psyche
I AM that Statistic
Every time something happens to one of our friends, family, co-workers, etc., in the form of someone taking their own life, we always ask "Why?" There are a thousand different reasons someone may get to that point. As an advocate for EMS and first responder suicide prevention, I am strongly inclined to reveal the many faceted, never easy answer to this question.
By Kathy Roadman7 years ago in Psyche
It's Only Energy
As I sat amid one of the darkest and most painful experiences of my life, trying to create some sense of normalcy out of anything at all, I put a piece of jewelry in my mouth and bit down to close the clasp. Suddenly, I gasped in mortification at a crunching sound and my inner critic barked out obscenities at me inside my head which sent me into floods of tears—I’d broken off my front teeth! It occurred to me for the very first time in my life that maybe teeth were not supposed to be used as pliers at all and I wondered in awe how I’d never recognised that fact before but such was my horror and I was in such a dark place inside, all I could do with any of it right then was shame myself and hate myself even more. I had no resources to do anything any differently and my neural networks were conditioned for criticism, shaming, nastiness, abuse, and self-loathing—it’s all I’d ever known by the age of thirty five. I was an exemplary student for the teachers I’d had in those lessons and I had Mastered the art well. Being kind, gentle, and loving to myself was a complete mystery to me then, and I was afraid of anyone else who didn’t abuse me too, often avoiding anyone who seemed "nice." I was sure that if I went near "nice" people, they’d see my "stains" or that something dark about me would infect them. Here I was finally sitting with someone "nice" and allowing them in and I broke my smile! The last minuscule speck of self-respect I had been holding onto shattered along with my front teeth in that moment and I surrendered all pretense at sanity right there and then, it was the final straw for me after months of humiliation, tragedy, and losses. I truly felt as if I had nothing left to be and it would be another 12 years before I would recognise the gift of that night at all.
By Gabriella Grace7 years ago in Psyche
Interviews with a Big Black Broad: Session #3
Interviewer: How was your experience as a college student while suffering with crude BDD? BBB: My college experience was a slippery slope. The moment I graduated high school, I knew I was in for an entirely new set of challenges when it came to hiding my BDD symptoms. Or at least, I thought I knew. I spent my final year in high school listening to college graduates prepare me for this major shift into adulthood. What scared me shitless was the expectation that my social interactions would have to change. My mother was hopeful that I would finally find a boyfriend in college. As you can imagine, speculations regarding my sexuality were starting to take root since I never dated throughout my teenage hood. Of course, my makeshift friends at school knew I was straight, and understood clearly why I was dateless. My family, however, refused to accept what my friends and I had. Ugly girls don't date. Remember, some of them had actually introduced me to the unfortunate connection of being ugly and alone as a child, so these contradictory messages made their expectations unmanageable. As far as my personal life choices go, I stopped seeking their consensus right then and there. I'd just have to live my life the way I wanted and suffer the consequences of ending up as the cautionary tale. Besides, none of them will ever understand what it's like to be trapped in the mind and body of a big black broad like me. Period.
By Anarda Nashai7 years ago in Psyche
Always Be Moving Forward
Always be moving forward. It’s a simple mantra, but that idea of moving forward is one that I struggle with. I am extremely critical of myself, and these words help me to break out of my cycles of negative self-talk that cripple me. These words are now my life line.
By Corinne Squires7 years ago in Psyche
