Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Psyche.
Strength in Fear
There are approximately 361,481 children born in the world every single day. We all start out the same—a blank canvas.We come into this world new, clean, untouched, and yet somehow the darkness finds us all. Think about it. Over 300,000 children born each day and at some point, they all fear the same thing—the monster underneath the bed. We've all been there, laying under our duvet, curled up, telling ourselves that if our limbs are brushed by the cool night air, even in the slightest, that the beast lurking beneath the bed frame will steal us away from our families and, ultimately, our childhoods. Now, eventually, these thoughts and fears drift away as we grow older and realize that the only monster that lives with us in our bedrooms is our imagination. Or is it?
By Final Thoughts8 years ago in Psyche
Illness Anxiety & Parenting
“My tummy hurts,” My three-year-old will say. Panic mode sets in. For those of you who don’t have kids, sometimes that phrase turns into the whole house puking and pooping their brains out. It’s not fun. Sometimes they just say it for attention. For me and my lovely friend named anxiety, it always means the first option.
By Samantha Londo8 years ago in Psyche
The Anxiety Elf (Part 2)
"Tell yourself you are excited, not anxious." I can tell myself I am a superwoman but it doesn’t mean I am — the conversation I had with my mum right before I went to my job for the first time. The sort of conversation I have with most people when I tell them about anxiety. “Just ignore it,” they say — like it’s that easy. It does depend on the level of anxiety; some people may be able to blank out those feelings, the feeling that everything around them may blow up if they leave the house. Whereas me, the more I try to convince myself it won’t happen, the more I end up convincing myself it could be worse. But I did make it there alive, and I didn’t throw up — although I was close too many times.
By TheAdventuresOfRoo8 years ago in Psyche
How Far Would You Go for the One You Love?
*This post contains a triggering subject and should be read with caution. Contains spoilers* This book that I am about to write about was one of the hardest books I have ever read. There is something about the topic of suicide that really hits where it hurts the most. Mental health is a a very debatable and touchy subject due to the fact that people do not have a deeper understanding about what is happening inside the mind. People don’t see what the person is thinking. There is an assumption that people fighting against mental health issues are over exaggerating, bottling up, being difficult, or even making up the war that is occurring in the brain. As a person who fights depression and anxiety every day, I have the right to say I understand but truth be told I don’t understand what is happening. The worst feeling in the world is knowing that you have lost hope in yourself; knowing that you are looking for a way to escape the pain. The best feeling in the world is knowing that there is someone out there who will help you walk through the battlefield. The most disgusting feeling in the world are the people who could care less about mental health until a tragedy strikes. As soon as someone important commits suicide or harms themselves due to mental health, there are people out there who claim they care and support awareness. Those people run away from the problem when they are put in a situation where they are faced with mental health. Hypocrisy towards suicide, depression, bipolar disorder or any other form of mental health is humiliating. Don’t judge something you cannot see. One day you might regret the decision you make or you might be proud of the life you just saved.
By Hailey Peterson8 years ago in Psyche
The Tear
We grew up by heroin highway, or 290. I saw the stories on the news, but we were in a small suburb. It couldn't happen to anyone I knew. We had good lives, they weren't perfect, but they were good. I stood staring at his gray body, dark circles under his eyes, bluish-purple lips, bruises lined his arms and as they administer the naloxone, I can't help but think that he is dead. Not in the literal sense. His heart is beating again, but this is not the guy I grew up with. The person I knew died with the first injection. The first snort. The first toke.... to be honest, I'm not sure how it started. He wouldn't tell me that. He hid his other life from me, knowing that I wouldn't approve. He knew I had a background of bad experiences with people I've known making a handful of mistakes on harsh, addictive drugs. So he hid it from me, like so many of our other friends. I've watched as many of my best friends have made this transition; from best friend to complete stranger. Even worse, I've stood at funerals for this horrible disease. I stood at funerals before we were even out of high school. And now, here I stood, watching the man I was in love with wither away as the disease and the drugs took over. As I ran a hand over my protruding belly, I wondered how this was going to affect her. I wondered if he would even be around to meet her. I wondered if I should run, get as far away from this state as possible so that there was never even the possibility of me ever seeing my daughter fall to this fate. But that wouldn't help. Moving wouldn't solve anything. It was a nationwide problem at this point. I looked again at the stranger in front of me. This disease was killing him and in that moment I realized there was nothing I could do to stop it.
By Michelle Schultz8 years ago in Psyche
Mental Illness — The Truth
Mental Illness seems to be on everyone lips at the moment, like it's a new word, or something that is "on trend." The harsh reality is that it has been around for centuries but because we are afraid of things we don't understand, we choose to hide away from it and pretend it's not there. This also goes for people that actually suffer with their mental health. They hide away from themselves.
By Abby Kedwell8 years ago in Psyche
13 Reasons to Stay Alive
I have a lot of feelings about the new Netflix show, 13 Reasons Why. As a middle schooler, I read the novel by Jay Asher and fell in love with it. Hannah was likeable, a little dramatic, but relatable as a 13 year old who thought middle school was hard. I never gave too much thought to the plot but ravaged through the book in about a couple of hours and decided that I liked it, but never dove too deep into the heavy subjects brought up. I was fortunate to have never experienced super similar things to what Hannah went through in the book and had not yet felt the same things she was feeling.
By Meghan Harris8 years ago in Psyche
When Anxiety Attacks
It was starting. Her bones were shaking under her skin. Beginning at the tips of her fingers, trickling up her arm. Like dominoes collapsing, it grew faster with every wave. Her breathing grew shallow. Her heart, fighting to jump out of her chest, was simultaneously being pushed deep into the depths of her stomach. She held her lips together, tightly, refusing to let any whimper escape. Even a slight sigh would release the trigger, yet she was loosing her battle.
By Angelia Galvan8 years ago in Psyche
What It Is Like Living with High Functioning Anxiety
Some of you may wonder what it feels like to have high functioning anxiety; others may know someone who deal with anxiety and wonder what it is like for them. I am sure everyone is different, but I will try and explain what it is like for me. So pretty much all my life I have been described as shy. I am not the first person to usually strike up a conversation; I keep to myself often in social interactions. I observe everyone and everything around me, and it depends on when I feel comfortable when you will see me come out of my shell. Deep on the inside is this quirky, goofy person with a huge heart. Sometimes the outside doesn’t see this and judges me. And other times they do see this and use it to their advantage. To say that people mistake my kindness for weakness would be an understatement.
By RaeAnna Mercado8 years ago in Psyche
