depression
It is not just a matter of feeling sad; discover an honest view of the mental, emotional and physical toll of clinical depression.
Dry Mouthed Dreamer
Seventeen and a half hours of disturbing, seemingly eternal, dreams of those who I love and whom I can not seem to convey my reality to in real time, has left me emotionally hungover. They all live far away yet I feel as if they should understand by now why I feel so desperate, desolate and isolated. It's sinking in that life has been an illusion; without an oasis, a gold nugget, not even a postcard to cling to, I have fallen into this remote place where all that I assumed would be turns out to be just a mound of bones, fragments of my past that meant zip, nada. I can't cry or run back to the beginning and fix it all so my journey continues into this desert of self, where nothing matters, especially within my selfish cravings. Laying on the bed just avoiding that one move that changes everything for the day; if I get up I am beckoned to answer for myself, be present; if I lay here, I am sick, lazy, a carcass of my own despair. There is not a magic wand, pill, or sweet talking shrink who can take away this inner disgust, the broken me. The worst thing is people feel bad cause I feel bad. I stuff my mouth with carbs and live for the darkness where I can drown in Discord with far away voices who make me feel, for a few hours, part of this crazy ass world. Waiting to feel something, show something for myself, just to be so-so is a bitch. I honestly have no idea how to turn this cradled cloud of deep sea blackness around. Anybody who's been here knows it's not a choice, a matter of pulling up my boot straps. Hell, I don't even have boots. The notion that we all have hard times, rough patches and so on makes me cringe. I have had ten years of a bad ass trip. Learning to know who I am led to discovering I will never, ever, feel okay in this world. My dad dumped me cause I am me. I was his gift he'd said so many years ago. Years ago. Truth is the killer man. Nobody really wants to hear your answer to "how are you?" now do they? In fact, anybody out there struggling with self loathing, depression, or just a miserable set of cards knows, being happy is a can fucking sardines. All our memories jam packed into one little tin, smothering us and all smelly. Ugly is what it is. Nice little therapists with pretty smiles and nods piss me off even more. "Oh, you have a lot on your plate right now." For the love of jesus, joseph, mary, gods and goddesses, YEAH, I gotta lot on my plate. I don't have a plate. I am spilling my shit all over the place, on the floor, in my bed, my plate is salty and wet, it's full of big ole cry it out tears. No one can fix this. I walk in circles, dry as burnt toast and nothing makes me want to make a move. I just stare at the sky, wondering why me. I know I am not alone; there's a lot of wild shit in this universe. I just wanted, just wanted, just wanted, a little piece of sweetness for a little while. Just a taste of something good for me. Is that such a bad thing? I am either asking too much or not trying at all. There is always a beginning, a middle and an end. Or is there? I feel like I have been in the middle of my worst day for a thousand sunsets. Now, all I can think is if, if, if, you know something I don't, maybe have a map to get me out of this barren mental tundra, can you give me a clue?
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)2 years ago in Psyche
Youth, Depression, and the Endless Ocean
On a clifftop in Hastings, half a mile from anywhere stands a bench made from the logs of nearby trees, joined with large, rusted bolts. Ten paces south, the cliff gives way to open air; a dead drop onto crumbled, jagged rocks entwined in seaweed, mossy stones, flotsam, jetsam, moist sand. A fence — decaying wood, blunted barbed wire, no more than five feet tall — skirts this precipice. Sparse cirrus clouds wisp gently, framing the midday sun.
By Daniel Redford2 years ago in Psyche
Independence or Loneliness
An aspiration for independence seems to be one that many of us share. Perhaps our progressive freedom through the decades has resulted in an ambition for self-reliance - especially among women who strive to be their own providers. Though this dependence on oneself can positively contribute to the views one has on the relationships present in their life, we are social creatures by birth. Developing intimate relationships and regular human contact fuels us to live fulfilled lives. So, what happens when you lose one of these relationships? The person who made you feel most content. Who you could do nothing with and feel okay - like life made sense. Like it did not really need to make sense. Solitude fills the space of the one who has left. And, solitude never leaves. You are left with no choice other than to resent its presence, draining all hope and happiness from your future. Or, perhaps, to befriend it.
By Katerina Petrou2 years ago in Psyche
Unveiling 11 Effective Memorization Strategies
Have you seen the movie "Limitless"? If you're not sure, let me jog your memory: it's about a main character who discovers a special pill that allows him to recall all his experiences and knowledge whenever he needs to. Imagine if that were true! We spend our entire lives learning, but we often forget much of what we've learned. Why does this happen, and how can we improve our memory? In this article, I'll share some simple memorization tips and a universal formula to help you retrieve any information from your memory whenever you need it.
By Misbah Riaz2 years ago in Psyche
EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION
Emotional manipulation is a complex and often insidious form of psychological influence where one person uses tactics to control, exploit, or influence another's feelings and behaviors. Unlike physical manipulation, which is overt and often immediately recognizable, emotional manipulation operates under the radar, making it difficult to detect and even harder to address. This article delves into the nuances of emotional manipulation, exploring its mechanisms, identifying signs, and offering strategies for those who find themselves ensnared in its web.
By ASMAU AHMAD2 years ago in Psyche
How My Life’s Purpose to Have an Unbreakable Heart Left Me Broken in Life
Ever noticed how people who are afraid of having their heart broken often end up feeling broken? Until recently, that was the case for me anyway. I was always striving to have an unbreakable heart — but never quite succeeded. What did it mean for me to “have an unbreakable heart”? For one, it meant that I was always trying to protect my heart from everything and everyone. I thought I could achieve that by not letting anything or anyone in. You’ve probably heard about the concept of “building walls around your heart”. That’s what I was doing. I built high, wide, fortified walls around my heart — walls that would even make the Great Wall of China look small.
By Unbreakable Heart2 years ago in Psyche
