Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Psyche.

I Don’t Know What It IS Called, but I Know I Am Not Well in the Head
Breathe. Close your eyes. Everything is OK. Stop thinking. Now go to sleep. Breathe. Close your eyes. Everything is OK. Stop thinking. Now go to sleep.
By Judy Mae8 years ago in Psyche
Dealing With Anxiety- Just a Little Tip!
We often link anxiety with depression and stress but the truth is, anxiety may present itself in many different ways. Believe it or not, it is a normal emotion we all feel at some point in our lives, whether it's dealing with the issue to pay our bills or studying for our test. Sometimes, it can feel like the most stupid and insignificant thing to worry about but deep down it's triggering that anxiety in you to build up slowly. So what does anxiety actually feel like? The shaking of your hands? An intolerable chest pain? Perhaps both your head and heart are racing to the speed of light or maybe you feel a sudden urge to jump out of your skin, run from your life...anxiety comes differently to everyone. What affects us might not affect others.
By Eli Riego8 years ago in Psyche
Dating Someone Who Self-Harms
She takes notes on her skin with a knife—notes on how to feel, notes on how to be normal, notes on how to stop taking bloody notes. She writes in her own language things like, "What is wrong with me?" "Why are you like this?" "You're making this about you again." She believes these words, because how could you deny them when they are being said to you consistently?
By Francis Grace8 years ago in Psyche
Beating the Stigma
I will no longer allow my mental illness to define me. Being labeled as mentally ill has the potential to create difficulties in many ways. But giving in to the stigma behind mental illness, makes things worse for those who are already suffering. I hope that one day our society will be more accepting of those suffering from a mental illness. As a woman struggling with mental illness, it is only one small part of the many facets of my personality. I have a life story, a loving family and a personality that is separate from my diagnoses.
By Lisa Michelle8 years ago in Psyche
I Am No Longer a Victim
Have you ever been so distracted that when you look up to see what's around you, you don't even recognize where you are or how you got there? You can't even pinpoint when you got so lost or what made you make the wrong turn? I have been so stuck and distracted that I didn't even recognize how much I have missed.
By Angela Altland8 years ago in Psyche
The Monster That Follows
It’s foggy, and I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know why I’m running either, but something tells me I shouldn’t look back. I keep on running. My face was stinging from the ice cold wind as I race with time. My senses are heightened and I can hear something coming after me. I try not to look back at it. The heavy footsteps it brings with it seem to be getting louder the more I run. Nothing in the world could get me to turn around and look at whatever it is. I keep running.
By Madame Nighte8 years ago in Psyche
Scarlet, Not Red
When I was younger, I thought that the greatest thing in the world was a 1989 Mini Cooper. Specifically my aunt’s 1989 Mini Cooper. She loved it more than anything in the world. The inside smelled of her—rather, smoke—and there was always nail polish in the glovebox. In the summer, we would both get in bathing suits and sandals to wash the car. She would flirt with the man that lived across the street strutting around the car in cloth that could barely be called a swimsuit, even if my uncle Bill was inside. I didn't mind though, it was her typical behavior.
By noah margaret8 years ago in Psyche
Anxiety & Backbone
It was the night I understood why I feared the silence. Environmentally everything was calm, sure. On the inside, however, felt as if my chest had crashed and burned. It wasn't painful, no. Pain changed for me after the last throw against the wall. It would take far more to break me this time. More than a kick to the stomach at 8 months pregnant. More than the bruises echoing from my wrists and elbow. Yes, it would take much more than this to cause me any real pain. But when the silence fell across the porch and proceeded to follow me into the house I called home: I broke.
By Alex Schoeneman8 years ago in Psyche
It Hides in Plain Sight
The city looked so lively from up here. You couldn’t tell that below it was a corrupt and damaged world. For the first time in a long time, I took a real breath of air. It sounds idiotic, I breathe all day, everyday. But never outright, not like this. I sat on the edge with my eyes closed and just tried to remember this exact moment, every inhale. I never wanted this moment to stop, I wanted to stay here and just breathe. I let the cold night air sting as it went down my throat because the pain reminded me I was still alive. That even though the world was still and I had found peace, I’d have to open my eyes again sooner or later. I’d have to return to the world and face reality. But for now, I enjoyed my last first breath.
By Kim McGaw8 years ago in Psyche
How To Help a Loved One with Depression
Depression is a horrible thing to live with, no matter your situation. It is made so much worse when the ones you love don't treat you with respect or compassion. Before I go further I would like to clarify that I am speaking of clinical depression and not being depressed due to grief, though some of my advice may still be helpful to that situation.
By Sarah Sandow8 years ago in Psyche
Dear Me
Dear Me, I know right now feels like hell. I know pretty much all the time feels like hell. I know that you're in pain; you're in so much pain that you are willing to die just to make it stop. I know that you're constantly choking down a sea of tears, because God forbid you let anyone else see the storm that dwells inside. I also know that sometimes will seem that the war isn't worth it anymore, because all you ever win are scars and more pain, and the monsters you fight against will win everything; your dignity, your energy, your time, your will to live.
By Justine Lagos8 years ago in Psyche
There’s a Demon on My Back
Something inside me was blunt: my eating disorder had separated me from the real world and I was living inside its perpetual bubble. My world was the echo after the firework: there, but only sort of. Not the real thing. Not reality. The muffled goings on of day-to-day life didn’t touch me if I had anorexia to play with. Akin to a drug addict, weight loss was my high. If I didn’t get my fix daily my world would crumble. I wouldn’t be able to leave my room for fear that people could ‘tell’ that I had failed. Anorexia would create looks of disgust and judgement that I now realise didn’t even exist. If I did lose weight the only thing that could possibly worry me was how to lose more by the next day. I felt like I did not have a choice.
By Meg Crawshaw8 years ago in Psyche