coping
Life presents variables; learning how to cope in order to master, minimize, or tolerate what has come to pass.
When life is good
Sometimes life hands you lemons, what do you do? I use to think make vodka Tom Collins. Now I think, squeeze that bitch and make lemonade. I guess that’s not how to start a post that has recovery in the tag. Let’s be real though, recovery or not, vodka always on my mind.
By Ms. Meowtini Straight-Up5 years ago in Psyche
Is Swearing the Best Way to Beat Stress?
In dark times encompassed by chaos, we're all looking for relief from stress and anxiety. From riots and cannabilism to allusions to civil war and vaccine shortages, all topping our newsfeeds, we're all looking for something to lighten our worries.
By Katie Brozen5 years ago in Psyche
The Wellness Plan
In 2019, I was diagnosed with a mental health issue known as anxiety and depression. I refused medication and treatment because of two reasons, not being sure if my healthcare insurance would cover the costs and my assumption of the illness going away on its own. In my opinion, I did not take the diagnosis seriously and I went on with my life. At this time, I was experiencing my last year at Middlesex Community College in my associate’s degree program for liberal arts and a concentration in psychology. I did not want to think that I could become emotionally compromised. Over time, I withdrew from socializing with friends, family, and career opportunities. Here, I started to feel intense episodes of worry, low self-esteem, and sadness and I wasn’t sure if it was from being socially withdrawn, the diagnosis being poorly treated, or a mixture of both. But, when people asked about my wellness I began to blame my emotional patterns on my menstrual cycle or the weather. I had many people fooled, believing that my mental health was not at any kind of potential risk. However, karma does come around and I found myself to be the fool, curling into a ball on my grandma’s kitchen floor and wailing about my life. I had an episode in front of my family. It was scary, ugly, and also the truth. But, this is where I realized that my mental health should be taken seriously and psychological attention was needed as soon as possible. Within a week, I found free counseling sessions through my college resources and signed myself up. It was the first step that changed my life forever.
By Claudi Brown5 years ago in Psyche
The Chair and the Barn Owl
It had seemed as if I hadn’t felt the warm embrace of sleep for quite some time. For so long I had traveled...and for so long I had craved rest. My body craved rest...the kind that makes you feel as if your body is afloat in a lake and the quiet splash of the water hits the shores bringing comfort to your soul. No rest for me...no rest for so long. Had I fooled myself into believing that there was such a thing? Had I contoured up an idea of what rest was to be? I had heard people talk of such things as a “nice rest” or “ a little rest and relaxation”. Was such a concept fiction? All I knew was that I craved it...my body and mind yearned for it...I was dying to find it.
By Heather McCoy5 years ago in Psyche
Self-Love not Harm
I think the first time I self-harmed was in fifth grade. I told my parents it was because I wanted to be blood sisters with the other girl who had raked both her wrists against the school building with me during recess one day. We had of course performed the whole “blood sisters” ritual, but it was about more than that. She was in deep pain, having recently lost her mother to suicide and I was dealing with things that were way above my age level to process. We were both crying out for help without even realizing it. When it became clear that I was in trouble for my actions, I lied instead of telling the truth, because that’s what I did back then. Rather than admit that I needed help, I told a partial truth in order to escape the real trouble of dealing with the real problem.
By Tabitha White5 years ago in Psyche
These Four Walls
I open the old wooden door, and a creak fills the space, echoing as if a cavern or place of burial. Something has died here, but it is not the rotting walls of this ancient building, or even the decaying corpses of rodents scattered across the floor. No, the true death that occurred here was that of myself.
By Veronica Smeltzer5 years ago in Psyche
