coping

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

The 5-Minute Rule
For the first few years after my brain injury, whenever I was faced with making a decision I would momentarily freeze. My mind would go blank, I’d stare into space, and I became catatonic (in other words, in an immobile or unresponsive stupor). Being in an already-stressful environment would make it even more pronounced. This involuntary behavior caused a great deal of misunderstanding and argument in our household and amongst family. It tested the limits of my marriage and my sanity, until I learned how to deal with it. Thanks to the Ontario Brain Injury Association and Brock University for helping me put this approach into practice. I think it's helpful for everyone who finds themselves decision-making challenged.
By Catherine Kenwell4 years ago in Psyche
The Part That Was Unspoken.
May 30th, 2021 You never wake up and predict what is going to happen throughout the day. It was a normal day for me. I never really went to parties or anything like that. My mom had me as a teenager so she is very protective of me. I always argued with her about it though. Don't get me wrong, I am so very grateful for her. I just never really understood the "bad" she always taught me about in the world. That evening I recieved a text from one of my good friends B asking me if I wanted to go to a "small gathering" with her and our group at our friend Lil's house. B never really gave me a reason not to trust her. I've known her since the sixth grade. I always admired how bold and reckless she was. She offered to give me a ride to the party. It took me all day to finally convince my mom to let me go. The only reason she had said no at first was because she didn't know Lil's parents. Of course I thought she was being over dramatic. Eventually I put it in her head that she was. So she let me go. I didn't know what to expect. I figured I knew the people that were going to be there so I was not really stressing it. I threw on a hoodie, sweats, and my favorite pair of Jordans. I didn't bother to do my makeup. B finally texted me that she and her father were outside. I got in her father's car and we drove for about eighteen minutes. We ended up at a small house with people scattered around the place. It was Memorial Day Weekend so I figured maybe they were having a BBQ. I enter the house and I notice Lil's mom and her friend were drinking. The friend was already looking a little drunk. I felt a feeling in my gut. I felt like calling my mom but I didn't. I continued to make my way into the house and up to Lil's room. Lil had just got out the shower and was putting on clothes. There were three other girls in the room. "Is there anyone else here?" I questioned. Lil nodded and replied, "Yeah the boys are in my brother's room." I remember she turned and continued to play her alternative playlist. A few minutes later her door busts open. The boys walked in. People I have never seen in my life. Then I saw him, Zay. He was tall with brown skin. He had long curly hair that was in a bun. He was cute. I never denied that. He locked eyes with me and smirked. I felt awkward. We started to play games. Every high school party has games to it. At least that's what I learned from movies. Zay kept moving closer and closer to me. Eventually he got close enough to where he was groping me. I felt his hands squeezing my arm pulling me closer to him. I moved away every time. Smash or pass was the chosen game. Everyone either smashed or pass each other. Then, it was my turn. "Bre, smash or pass Zay," is all i heard. I looked at him. He was standing looking at me with strong eye contact. You would never think and innocent game can make such an awful event occur. I tried to be like B. I wanted to be bold. "Smash," I replied with no hesitation. After that I sat down on the bed next to B. Zay came and sat behind me. Everyone was sitting, talking, drinking, smoking, listening to music. I felt hands wrap around my waist. I pushed them off of me. Zay got up very annoyed by me. He looked at me once again and this time said, "I think i'm going to go get a drink. You should come with and maybe we can go somewhere." I quickly responded with a no. He walked off. Ten minutes later I noticed my two guy friends were missing. I texted them to see where they were at. I started to get bored so I decided to wander. I entered the hallway only to find Zay coming towards me. He pinned me against the wall and was breathing in my face. I smelt the weed on his breath. "Zay get off of me," I demanded. He started to laugh as he reached his arm to Lil's bedroom door. He shut it. I could hear Sex On Fire by Kings Of Leon playing in the background. The feeling in my gut began to rise. I pushed him away from me and tried to walk away. His left hand came around my neck and slammed me against the wall. I used all my forced to get his hand off my neck. Except every time, the grip only got tighter. I began to panic. His right hand wandered under my shirt. I couldn't fight him off. He was bigger. He was stronger. I felt hopeless. In that moment, I prayed to god. Then, one of my guy friends walked out the room. Zay hopped off of me. I saw B sitting on the bed still. I mouthed with my lips, "HELP". She laughed. Zay then shut the door again. I tried to run. He just grabbed me again. This time, I froze. I was ready to die. He choked me. His hand entered my pants and his fingers penetrated me. I cried. All I could do was close my eyes. I will never forget the way he looked at me. I was weak. In that moment, I was not only ready to die. I wanted to die. I wanted it to be over. I had no control over my body. I didn't think to hit him. I didn't think to yell. I just stood there hopeless. Almost like I was not there in that moment. I saw my friend Sean walk out the room. Zay took his hands off of me and walked away. I ran towards Sean. I tried to wipe away my tears. I was faced with a hard decision. Who do I tell? I spent the rest of my night in a police station and a hospital. I was numb. I shed so many tears that I could not cry any longer. The police caught him that night. I had a rape kit done. I had to strip in front of a random female nurse. She took pictures of my neck which was bruised from his hands. She was the first person to tell me, "It was not your fault." I didn't believe her. After that night, every single day is hard for me. Every night is hard for me. I lost a lot ever since that happened. I got texts from every person that was there that night. Apologies, apologies, and more apologies. Everyone promised they would be there to help me get through it. They lied. Suddenly, I am the "problematic" one. Suddenly, I am "blaming" people. Although, lets not forget who invited me. Let's not forget who laughed when I asked for help. Let's not forget who walked passed numerous times and didn't bother asking why I was crying. However, I will not blame anyone. I never have anyway. I spent nights crying myself to sleep. I spent nights wondering what's the point. I spent nights remembering his face when he looked at me. Things don't get better. They get worst. And for that reason being is because the worse teaches you how to overcome it. I am writing this now, five months later, reliving every bit of that day to tell the side of the story that no one talks about. The victim's story.
By Breezy4 years ago in Psyche
Knowing
I know where you are, I was there too. No amount of “things”, take away the blue. Talking helps but only if you hear.
By Suzanne Allen 4 years ago in Psyche
ADHD Ask: How Do I Cope When I’m Overwhelmed by Sounds?
Auditory processing disorder (APD) is said to occur in 50 percent of people diagnosed with ADHD. It might seem similar on paper to just being surrounded by noises such as screaming children in a restaurant, but for those suffering from APD, it can be a very real problem which impacts on many areas of life.
By Kristy Westaway4 years ago in Psyche
How My Unloving Family Tried To Destroy Me
This is a true story. It's October of 2014, so seven years ago now, practically to the day, and I have lost everything: my business, my apartment, my family, and now, probably, my wife. She's moving back to her parents' house, a few hundred miles and two states away. She's going to stay in their basement until she can land on her feet. Me? I'm going to live on the subway. I guess I'll beg, I don't know. I sure as hell can't sing or play an instrument or spin around on the subway poles. I'm sure there are charities that can help me. But despite working in the human services field for over a decade, I am painfully unaware of what kind of programs are out there to help a person in my position. I don't even know how long I will live, but I don't really care much at this point. Maybe I'll slowly but surely go insane, assuming I'm not there already. My wife – I'll be calling her Fiona on here, because she tells me she always wanted to be named Fiona – keeps reassuring me that it's only temporary, that we'll be back together again, we'll bounce back, and we'll be together again, we'll bounce back, over and over again. Me? All I can think of is the end of Requiem For A Dream, when Jared Leto calls Jennifer Connolly from some hellhole of a prison down south and they assure each other how they'll see each other again and repeat their love for each other over and over. As the viewer, we know there's no chance in hell they'll get back together, and this is almost definitely the last time they'll ever talk. I always wondered if the characters knew that or if they were still delusional about how far they'd fallen.
By Mytoxic Family4 years ago in Psyche
UNWANTED
My story is not unique for a person that is considered to have a severe disability. I am an overqualified social services worker. I have a diploma in social work studies, a four year honors in Sexuality marriage and family, and a four year general in social development studies. I studied for 15 years of my life and never developed a career. I walked with a walker and had cerebral palsy in both my legs called spastic diplegia and scoliosis and was recently diagnosed with a painful condition called rheumatoid arthritis . I am always in 8/10 pain.
By Julia Stellings4 years ago in Psyche
The Maddening Happening
I sit here with a blank notebook and an empty bottle of Lithium wondering when I’ll start feeling like myself again. I have grown accustomed to a week of hypomania and attribute all of my great ideas to that state of madness. What is normal and why do we idealize it? I try to write and nothing comes. It’s meaningless to force inspiration. I have a setting, character development and a storyline, yet what I produce has somehow missed its intended mark. Am I in some way different than I was even three weeks ago? Where is the passion that turns the wheels inside of my head to create something from nothing? The power of words is just that: the ability to create, to bring meaning and purpose.
By Katherine Nesbitt4 years ago in Psyche
Risk Factors of Drug Addiction
What are some of the risk factors of drug addiction? In a drug rehab clinic, doctors and staff will answer questions about drug addiction. One of the most common questions is what are some of the risk factors of drug addiction? It is important to find out what these factors are so that you can decide if you or someone else you know might be susceptible to becoming addicted to drugs. Inpatient drug rehab in Santa Cruz CA are very careful not to reveal information regarding these risks because they want patients to leave the premises of the drug rehab clinic knowing that they are safe.
By Daryl Heider4 years ago in Psyche
Men in midlife crisis: How to use the phase positively
The desire for change … … grows in many men around the age of 50. This can be, for example, a new job, the motorcycle license or other things. However, the midlife crisis becomes a problem for men when they start looking for sexual adventures, for example on Parship.
By Omara4 years ago in Psyche
My Antidepressant Became My Girlfriend and Soulmate
After 17 years of battling both anxiety and depression, I am 35 now, and not knowing what was happening to me exactly, I decided to go for the head-med about a year ago.
By The Soulful Scribbler 4 years ago in Psyche
Diagnostic Criteria
What is private besides our minds? What space truly belongs to us, beyond the cubic inches of our individual crania? Is that space even private domain at all? Certainly not if our behavior displays substantial deviation from social norms or puts ourselves or others in harms way. Certainly not when one has had a relapse into a volatile state of psychosis after many years of stability and is now mired in a legal battle due the collateral damage of a crisis.
By Isyan4 years ago in Psyche
My mind is broken
Sometimes I wonder if my mind will ever heal. Will it ever be the same? The same as what? As when I was 8 years old, free and full of life? Or when I was 9 years old, sexually abused and full of fear? Or the same as when I was 15 years old, angry and hurt, lying constantly to anyone about everything, and not knowing why?
By Triple T4 years ago in Psyche