coping

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

An open letter to Netflix
Morgan Stanley, Reed Hastings, Thank you. Thank you for being a huge part of my support network, my recovery and my challenge.
By Billie Whyte6 years ago in Psyche
The Highly Sensitive Person
I have read the Elaine Aron books, I've managed to buy other books such as The Highly Sensitive Person Survival Guide by Ted Zeff. I am reading about how to give myself more buffers. These days, I have plenty more compared to what I had in my after college years. By 2010, I had quit drinking and realized that my sensitivity could be managed differently. As a sensitive person, I'm realizing just how fragile my hernia is making me. I'm trying to sleep well at night, but I was low at 9, high at 1:00 a.m., and then high in the morning. The books I have offer many tips on how to deal with sensitivity.
By Iria Vasquez-Paez6 years ago in Psyche
VANTABLACK VOMIT
It felt like I needed to spew a void of darkness. It was clung, deep to my ribs, a sentient mucus that would not expel. Poisoning my heart as the panacea started to settle within my fractured brain, a tourniquet to stop the thoughts of harm spilling into the street.
By Dom Watson 6 years ago in Psyche
The Light & Dark
The Dark Entering 2019 all I wanted to do was heal. Heal from the hurt of an unhealthy relationship. One modeled by toxic parental and relational behaviors. I wanted to rid myself of the pain cause by massive self abandonment. The only thing I knew how to do in order to get people to love me. I had finally began to understand the way my choices created the pain I was living in. I finally understood that the only way to remove myself from the cage I had put around myself (while believing I was caged by another) was to find my voice, own my truth and step into my authentic self. But how on Earth was I to do such a thing? I didn't know how. I was terrified.
By Tamra6 years ago in Psyche
My Roommate Situation
I moved to San Francisco State in August 2004, and I was a transfer student at that. My roommates struck me in the immediate present as gaslighting bullies. One was messing around with her perception of race, and didn't bother to correct me as I see now she was looking for an excuse to criticize an innocent person. They did turn out to be very abusive. But at first, I tried to be the one to help them get along although the roommate I met first was the sort of person who liked messing around with people, and like I said, I imagined I had wronged her by not guessing her race right. I'm sorry, hun, I didn't know any better, and remember I was in my mid-twenties so therefore, learning new things?
By Iria Vasquez-Paez6 years ago in Psyche
My Mind and His Mental Health Issues
Days go by, boring, monotonous, chill and uneventful. These days go by and I take them for granted. I tend to forget for a few blissful moments that I am free from what really lurks in my mind. I don't focus on the fact that there are tons of ways that I could screw up my life at any moment with just a few words.
By alexandria Urrutia6 years ago in Psyche
Living with mental health
Living with mental health Now I’m not going to lie, some days it’s extremely hard to live with what goes on inside your head. And some days it’s just that little tiny bit easier. But for me I have a lot of the latter, I’m not saying that it is always a breeze but when we have had mental health for a long time now you get to know yourself and to know ways in which you can sort of cope.
By Im just floating6 years ago in Psyche
“It’s not you, it’s me...”
We’ve all heard that line; “it’s not you, it’s me”. And I don’t mean the typical excuse to get away from that creepy tinder date you’ve been meaning to get rid of. I’m talking about dealing with mental health in general when you’re in a relationship. If you’re lucky enough the person is supportive and understanding and everything you wanted but of course the overthinking kicks in. “Do they pity me? “I can tell they’re getting frustrated with me” “f*ck it, I should give up and never let anyone in again”. All these statements whirl around your head and at the time it makes sense.
By The Soul Whisperer6 years ago in Psyche
Outside vs Inside - The Ultimate Battle
Okay, so there are many campaigns circulating now based around mental health, and it’s about time, but words on a screen aren’t always a great comfort when you’re suffering.
By Mike Bray6 years ago in Psyche
Throw Me To The Wolves And I Will Come Back Leading The Pack
Dumping a bucket of water on a wicked witch is like dumping a bucket of truth on a narcissist. The difference is this. You can collect water from any place to dump on a witch. The hose, the sea, rain, the toilet. It doesn't matter. Dump and watch them melt.
By narcissistic whisperer, Andrea B. Wainer6 years ago in Psyche
It's my story to tell
I was four years old when my mom told me the story of a goat she had. Adventures of a premie who lived in a tote at the foot of her bed because she was born in too cold of a month. My mom named her Lisa.
By Savannah Deianira Lewis6 years ago in Psyche
Psych Ward
In September of 2018, I lost my emotional support animal, Rascal. Not only was Rascal my puppy that had been there for 10 years, but he had been there on nights I put blades to my skin, nights I had been molested, nights where I tried to kill myself, nights ex boyfriends would throw me down stairs, push me out of cars, and throw me to the floor, and nights where no one was there for me. Losing him was one of the biggest pains, simply because he held all of that in his small, ten pound, four-legged body. The worst part about it was, it only took him a few hours to die. We did not expect him to grow so fuckin sick in hours and I did not expect to hold my very best friend as we had to end his suffering from a silent cancer. This drove me off the rails. Who was going to let me cry on them and cheer me up at the same time? Who was going to hold my deepest secrets and not tell a soul? In October of 2018, after nights on end of college parties, drinking bottles on top of bottles, staying around friends I knew were fake but they kept it from being silent, I knew it was time. I knew that I was ready to kill myself. I had nothing. So, I disappeared with no trace. No one knew where I went, if I died, or been taken. I drove to a psychiatric hospital and checked myself in. I told myself, if I still want to kill myself after getting professional help, I can. But first, I have to try. For a suicidal person, I was quite reasonable. I knew I wanted to get better but knew that it would take a village for someone with as much trauma as me. I was fucking scared. I had never even seen a hospital specifically for psychiatric needs. I had been in and out of the Psych wing of Emergency Rooms, but never to a hospital that specializes. I was scared, but oddly excited. I WANTED to get better. I did not want to constantly feel suicidal and sickened by myself. Just barely over a month before, I had gotten raped on my BIRTHDAY.
By Sweet Mk 6 years ago in Psyche