humanity
Mental health is a fundamental right; the future of humanity depends on it.
A Detour Through Portland
I had the most interesting little detour on my way to the Oregon Convention center this past Spring. My husband and I have one car. Since I am the one predisposed to public transportation, when our schedules conflict, I take the metro/bus. So I took my route one morning to volunteer for the vaccine effort and got off the bus to switch to the metro. At the metro station there was a man talking to himself very loudly as he raided the train station's trash cans.
By Lucy Alice Dickens4 years ago in Psyche
My Dark Inside Sea
I've lost something that I loved. Well, I think I have. I know I'm not the only one. I'm actually very fortunate. This has been a hard year and I have lost less than other people. But that doesn't stop me from feeling sad. Feeling a deep sense of loss that is so profound that if I access the feeling I fear that I might sink totally into the angry dark sea inside that covers it. I have to survive from one day to the next, to function and enjoy things. The way I do that is to keep the sea deep inside. It is there, but it is covered by stones, grass and trees so I can't always see it.
By Rachel Dodman5 years ago in Psyche
Ed and the Terrifying Brown Paper Box
The doorbell rang. Strange… I thought. No one ever really rang the doorbell these days, they usually text me they are outside. Come to think about it, that’s strange to think. We are that addicted to our mobile devices that we would rather use it to act as a doorbell rather than just as easily press a button specifically designed for this purpose.
By Jason James Batchelor5 years ago in Psyche
Ava's Phobia.
In the summer of 1973, two little girls rest in the grass of a shared acre of land located on the outskirts of Texas. Ava, a blonde-haired blue-eyed girl, is the daughter of the longest-living family on the ranch. The only child of The Holoson family, well-known for all the wrong reasons. The mere sight of people seethed their souls. Unfriendly. Griffith Holoson moved to the area in the mid-’60s with his wife, Judy. They were the only people located on the acre until their daughter, Ava, was born in 1970. A house was built on the land, angering the couple. Angry letters to the Governor went unanswered, and four separate homes were built on the property. Friendly gestures from the neighbors were immediately shot down. “Good morning's" were ignored and stepping within 5 feet of their property warranted constant calls to the police. The last home to be built belonged to the Smith's, the only black family on the farm. The other neighbors couldn’t care less about the Smith's, but the Holoson’s were outraged.
By Sierra Ginae.5 years ago in Psyche
Hurry Up & Wait!
To you this does concern (see what I did there?), I left you hanging with the last letter. I felt like I was losing your attention. But there’s a reason why I didn’t give you everything in one shot. It’s more of a building block theory. I give you a single piece, allow you to observe, calculate and place. Then give you another. That way, you plan out how to build that house of information to your specifications/utilization. There’s lessons in that method. And there’s also some in what I haven’t said. I’m about to do some babbling, I’ll need your undivided attention for this;
By Jahvon "Jex" John5 years ago in Psyche
Every Breath is a Blessing
Every breath is a blessing. Today is my one year birthday. I should be dead, many times over, but I’m still here. “Why?” You may ask. My Higher Power wanted me alive so I could tell you my story. At 14 years old I began using drugs. At 16 I started using heavy drugs and using the needle. I lived my life like there was no tomorrow. Afterall there may not be. Tomorrow is promised to no one. But for me I didn't care if I lived or died. I was foolish.
By Jared Hogston5 years ago in Psyche
