Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Psyche.
What Does the Therapist Say?
That Feeling in Your Chest— I have been wanting to talk about this for some time and nothing but my own insecurities and fears have been holding me back. I'll often lay awake at night reviewing things that I've noticed which tend to go unnoticed by others who aren't experiencing the same things.
By C. R Watson8 years ago in Psyche
Walking Into a Room
As the knob twists and the door whips open, the music fills my ears and the steady drumming of my heart quickens. My lungs draw in the warm air that flows around me. It smells of the heavy perfumes of girls seeking attention. One foot in the room and the stares that I felt could have bore a hole through even the thickest winter jacket. Why is everyone looking at me? As I take a second step, the blood rushes to my cheeks and I know my face is flushed. Holding back the urge to leave, I search the room for a friendly face, with little success. Why did I come here?
By Samantha Brett8 years ago in Psyche
BPD and Me Part 1
I guess I've always known that I wasn't "normal" from a young age. I always felt things more intensely than other people, and held onto those emotions longer. I had difficulty making and keeping friends. Due to my mixed ancestry, I had a constant identity crisis, never knowing where I fit in. I also had a very tumultuous childhood in which I experienced traumas that still affect me to this day. I always wondered what was wrong with me. Was it something that I could fix, or would I just have to suffer my whole life? It was not until I was 27 that I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, the most commonly diagnosed personality disorder. Where I live (the United Kingdom), it's estimated that seven out of every 1000 people have this disorder.
By Matti dos Santos8 years ago in Psyche
The Black or White Thinking, Dramatic and Erratic Personality
The term Borderline Personality Disorder or BPD isn't the most well-known mental illness, compared to Depression, Bipolar Disorder, and Anxiety but it affects 1.6 percent of people in the United States and 2 percent of people in Canada. BPD is a Personality Disorder which, by definition, means: A deeply ingrained and maladaptive pattern of behaviour of a specified kind, typically manifested by the time one reaches adolescence and causing long-term difficulties in personal relationships or in functioning in society. Personality Disorders have three Clusters; Cluster A (Odd, Eccentric, Bizarre), Cluster B (Dramatic, Erratic),and Cluster C (Anxious, Fearful). Our friend BPD falls under Cluster B and can not only be debilitating, frustrating, and tiring for us, but it can also affect the lives of those around us.
By Hailey Gumbley8 years ago in Psyche
Me: Untitled
Preface I do not want any future readers to believe that there is a “point” to this story—it is not about me, in all my adolescent and teenage glory learning the problems of life and how to deal with my angst in a coming-of-age sort of way. In no way, do I wish that young persons to follow in my footsteps for an idealistic “emerging from my ruins” moment, romanticized and frequently retold by numerous media in the 2010s world. I say this, because I know of many stories in which a lead protagonist, usually a teenager, goes through a traumatic event, or has a mental illness of some sort, that the story is either based around or is a driving force in the character’s decisions. In such stories, the illness, trauma, or even suicide is considered poetic, even beautiful.
By C.K. Milton8 years ago in Psyche
The Moody Blues and I
In late November out nowhere I was hit with the dreaded blues. For two weeks straight I was in the funkiest of funky moods that I could not seem to shake. It seemed like I was crying every other day and barely wanting to get out the bed. What was most frustrating is that I could not pinpoint what was causing me to feel so hopeless.
By Tyra Holloway8 years ago in Psyche
A Life with Bipolar Depression
Let me just start by saying I am not a psychologist, nor do I claim to be. Ever. I am just someone that has lived with and around bipolar depression all my life. Growing up, I watched my father battle with bipolar disorder and I saw my mother try to understand it. As I grew older, I discovered that I too had been blessed with the confusing and stressful gift of bipolar disorder. In the following paragraphs, I will be sharing with you the struggles that people with bipolar disorder and bipolar depression undergo and some of the things I have learned to help in coping and in some instances even striving with the illness. With any luck, my writing will help even just one person in feeling not alone or understand what a loved one is going through and ways they can help (when needed).
By Cierra Cooper8 years ago in Psyche
When I Figured out What It's Called
I've never been a brave person. As a small child I was terrified of the dark. I'm told that's normal. As I grew into a teenager and young adult, I hit a growth spurt. I was 17 years old and 6'2" tall. I had the weight to match and not a whole lot of enemies either. My best friends protectors, I never saw what happened coming. Now, being as large as I am, you can imagine I'm not a fan of small spaces or not being able to move. You'd be right. When I was 16, I discovered I have a huge phobia of being restrained or unable to defend myself. My senior year of high school I had kind of let this fear get out of hand. I'd have bad dreams, be unable to watch horror movies, etc. Again, I'm not a brave person. I confided in my best friend, who we'll call Emily, and she tried to help me deal with it. Little did I know? She'd gone to our other best friend, we'll call her Lucy...and the two of them dragged my third best friend, Mary, into their plan to get me for April Fools. April Fools came and went though and nothing happened...three days later I was on my lunch period and went to meet them at our usual spot. An empty classroom. I got there first, set my stuff down and waited. Now this was 2008, so smartphones and texting/Facebook were not the thing. When they arrived...I could immediately tell something wasn't right. There were two doors in/out of this classroom, both of which they blocked. Lucy at one, Mary at the other. Emily had stepped towards me, and in her hands? A roll of duct tape...Now that set me on edge, so I stood up. "What are you doing with that?" I'd asked trying to not sound afraid. "Oh this? Nothing, just spinning it around see?" She replied putting it down. Meanwhile, Lucy and Mary had moved closer. So the three of them had encircled me. Now, this was a physics teacher's classroom so it was honestly no big deal that there was rope on the back counter. Emily grabbed it. Before I knew what was happening, they'd backed me into the other corner. Lucy grabbed one arm, Mary the other. Emily had managed to tie my legs together now. I began to struggle against them but had a hard time balancing. They drove me spine first into the sharp edge of a table and now I was on my back unable to move. Both arms pinned down, legs tied together, and they weren't done yet. Lucy switched places with Emily who'd been holding down my left arm. Lucy was now standing over me, Duct tape in hand. "Guys we need to hold her down better and shut her up so no one downstairs hears her!" Lucy laughed. So did the other two. I however was not laughing. Lucy began to play with the tape. Ripping it off the roll over and over. Finally, she ripped off a giant piece and I had this sinking sick feeling wash over me...I began struggling again. Begging and pleading with them. "Come on guys this isn't funny. Please you're hurting me! Let me go come on!" I was on the verge of crying. I could hear the panic in my voice. "Enough. Shut up, we don't want to hear your whining!" Lucy shouted at me. And her face made me shiver. She then attempted to tape my mouth shut but I moved and she punched me in the face. Ever been punched in the face? It sends this shockwave through you. But it worked. I had been subdued and Lucy was able to put the tape over my mouth. So now I was completely helpless. Voiceless too. They were all laughing while I was crying and bleeding. It set off this indescribable fire in me. Suddenly, one of our younger friends came in and said "Hey! What the hell is going on?!" I dug my fingernails into Mary's hand, drawing blood and she released my right arm. She took off running. I now had a free hand. Lucy fled, a look of "Oh crap" on her face. Emily, however, was still latched onto my left forearm. She's 5'6" and 90 pounds soaking wet. But she'd been hanging off the table, nearly pulling my shoulder out of it's socket. I started beating on her and finally she let go and ran out of the room. The younger friend began playing 20 questions with me. I was freaking out! I was shaking so bad I could not untie my legs. So she helped. The second I was free I took off after those three bitches. They ended up back upstairs. They claimed they were not aware of my phobia and it was a joke. I was covered in bruises. Had a bloody nose, and was trembling uncontrollably. The rest of my senior year I suffered from intense nightmares. Vivid dreams that would rip me from a dead sleep. At the young age of 17? No, I did not tell the principal. Because I didn't want my "best friends" in trouble. I also had no idea that it would be affecting me ten years later.
By Aimee Brown8 years ago in Psyche
