coping

Life presents variables; learning how to cope in order to master, minimize, or tolerate what has come to pass.

No Comparison
Today a question was raised about what brought me joy and try as I might I couldn’t think of a truthful answer. Here, right in the middle of the most joyous time of the year, I could not think of a single thing that brings me joy. This left me reeling for a few hours trying to figure out how I got here. I can’t say that I feel particularly unhappy, so why in the world wouldn’t there be something I could pick off the top of my head that makes me feel joyful?
By Sissi Smith3 years ago in Psyche
IV.
Jermaine Lamarr Cole released his fifth studio album, KOD, appositely, on April 20th, 2018. The title, having three distinct meanings, reveals the work's thrust, the problem that inspired his conversations. Kids on Drugs, King Overdosed, Kill Our Demons. We are dying, he says, before we have lived.
By kp3 years ago in Psyche
III.
Bump? The young man apologizes, revealing his assumption that I’d accept any drug. He determined this, he says, by my relaxed sweats and Hawaiian button-up; lime-green GameBoy; Hokusai copy (not the great wave) hanging; Jose silver next to game leaves; and my confessed exploits with microdosing during this day’s regularly scheduled programming. I tell myself (hardly in earnest) that he is most likely correct and accept his offering. He says I am ‘the real,’ and I am left to decipher what this means from his earlier list of observations. I decide it must refer to people who are chronically depressed and filling pesky emotional voids with persistent substance abuse and tedious displays of appropriated interests. He rambles for some time before he tells me again that I’m as real as it gets, adding that this assessment includes people who don’t have social media profiles. I don’t tell him I don’t have social media profiles. He has lionized this misanthropic manic enough.
By kp3 years ago in Psyche
V.
Apple juice. VeggieTales. Grape juice. Olive fingertips. Saturday mornings. Visiting the library and reading stacks. Climbing trees. Scooby-Doo and the gang.
By kp3 years ago in Psyche
II.
I moved to Ypsilanti, Michigan, at twenty-four years of age and thought I had lept before. I had lived in Kalamazoo for a year while attempting to attend Western and moved into a trailer on my own in Big Rapids. Yes, a two-hour drive to my parent's house down to a 10-minute bike ride, but independence was maintained, nonetheless. So I thought. I had paid only $250 a month for rent and had only juggled the cost of one or two utilities. I had never tried to manage a forty-hour work week to afford rising rent costs or the monopolized prices of energy and internet while managing a full course load in college. Up to that point, I had only done one or the other at any given time. I moved to Ypsi and learned I was slightly behind on the curve. With only a few hundred dollars in my bank account, it didn’t take long for the eviction notices to start piling up. The final call to court prompted the mass sale of my personal belongings. Clothing, games, pills and weed, services, and a keyboard my parents paid six hundred dollars for. That money should have gone towards their mortgage, but they believed in the off-chance that I would learn how to play.
By kp3 years ago in Psyche
I.
When the staff at Timberwolf Lake greet you at the camp entrance, they choose you and one other person from your car. You, daughter of Eve, and a son of Adam, are helped into a harness that squeezes tightly around your waist and between your legs.
By kp3 years ago in Psyche
Tortured Euphoria
I woke up in the warm cozy euphoria still lingering from last night. I opened my eyes and gently caressed the bandaged wound on my arm, comforted in the knowledge that underneath lay the exploits of a night filled with tears, pain….
By Linda Bromley3 years ago in Psyche
When is the RIGHT time to build self-confidence and how?
Now. Whether you are a student, a fresh graduate, unemployed, employed, retired, a parent, a child, or a grandparent…it doesn’t matter. Your mental health requires attention now.
By Kahlee 3 years ago in Psyche
Talking Heads
I’m a Talking Head I laughed when I first heard the old joke. ‘I said to myself, “Self,” I knew it was me because I recognized the voice’. However, I also felt #seen.
By Mary Haynes3 years ago in Psyche
Fear of Losing
It's terrible to lose. Losing a cherished toy when you're young is absolutely upsetting. Losing a close friend might alter the path of your life as a teenager. Losing a trusted partner is painful when you're young. Losses during infancy, youth, and adulthood can cause anxiety to become stronger with age and eventually turn into pure horror of losing someone you care about. Although this fear is unhealthy, it frequently results in actions such as violence, control, and manipulation that are not appropriate in a loving, caring relationship. How then do you get over your fear of losing a loved one?
By Dr. Tulika Sarkar3 years ago in Psyche
Broken Bones
1. The Devil I Know The door slammed Time and time again Another silhouette melting Into the distance Disappearing from everything
By Poppy 3 years ago in Psyche
Self-made miserable life — is it worth blaming ourselves for the missing happiness?
When is the last time when you laughed for real? Do you remember what made you genuinely happy? What defined the moment when you were elated and feeling as if on cloud nine?
By Neurodivergent_ai3 years ago in Psyche