depression
It is not just a matter of feeling sad; discover an honest view of the mental, emotional and physical toll of clinical depression.
Suicidal Thoughts
It's 0038, I can't sleep, and I know why. I've avoided writing this because I like to think of myself as strong but not so long ago, I found myself at my weakest point. This topic overwhelms me and I'll be honest, I am in tears right now as I write, but here we go...
By Yedzayi Nenjerama8 years ago in Psyche
Alone
Emily was a straight-A student, one of the top GPA’s in her class, and was well know and liked throughout her school. She had many friends, and was quite popular with the guys. She had shoulder length hair that bounced as she cheerfully walked throughout the halls with her group of other beauty queen friends. Her light blue eyes twinkled at every smile her perfectly curved lips would make.
By Maritza Landeros8 years ago in Psyche
Down the Rabbit Hole
Before we begin, let me tell you that this was written in a blog post format, and this was also written not in the intent to encourage the action in the blog post. But in order to vent some feelings from a FICTIONAL character. Depression is a very serious subject, and the things talked about in this post are serious. Please, do not take it lightly. Now, let's begin with the story of how one girl discovered something she thought was going to help her, but leads her down a dark, dark rabbit hole.
By Kittie Kat8 years ago in Psyche
Never In the Cover of Night
Choices made will often appear temporary at first sight. We bog down our perceptions of our interactions with notions of grandeur or opposing feelings of dismay. Time continues to elude us and these temporary decisions become situations, situations then soon become prisons. I would often think about what had lead me to this place in time. The turmoil of our adolescence may generally leave little opportunity to succeed, but that doesn’t mean that our youth has to be wasted. In my case however, I fear it did. Every chance I had to take coal and make a diamond, I just took the coal at face value. Some of us choose to believe in things like fate or destiny. My path mostly felt, to such a degree, the best of a bad situation. My conscience was tormented by vague recollections of how and why I behaved the way I did. The option of sneaking away from danger was always something I could rely on. So as the years had passed, I came out virtually unscathed. The damage on the inside though, on the inside, it was a different story entirely.
By Sickboy Lecuyer8 years ago in Psyche
What Not to Say to Someone Who Is Depressed
I’ve struggled with depression my whole life, and every day it’s a new challenge seemingly more difficult than the last. Because mental illness is still greatly stigmatized, it can be unnerving to even think about opening up to others. When opening up to someone about depression, (on top of the feelings of crippling anxiety) is the usually crushing or straight-up insensitive responses. So here I have compiled some thoughts on things NOT to say to someone with depression.
By Ollie Greene8 years ago in Psyche
When Depression Becomes a Real Problem, Part 1
If there is anything I've really noticed in past few years, it's that mental health is being discussed more and more. Thanks to platforms like YouTube, you are no longer forced to choose from few canals and few shows on TV. You can find almost anything you want to. Specific documentaries, movies (if you know where to search ;] ), gaming videos, let's plays, vlogs, vines, even InstaStories, videos on Facebook, and Snapchat can entertain you when you need a quick break.
By Micah E Lucanus8 years ago in Psyche
Here's to You, 2017
New year, new me, right? That’s the most cliché statement in the world, but I can tell you, this year has taught me so much about love, life, heartbreak, and strength. Ironically, January 1 is the start of a new year, and also marks five months since the worst day of my life. Those five months were also the most significant months of my entire life. I’ve learned that if I made it out of August alive, I could basically make it out of anything. My story doesn’t end at me being shot, losing the love of my life and having to move home. My recovery wasn’t an easy one. I couldn’t drive, I was in immense pain every day, and even taking a shower or getting dressed was traumatic because of how hard it was. It just ended up being a constant reminder that my life turned completely awful faster than a speeding bullet. Literally. I cried just about all day, everyday for weeks. I would text him at least a couple times a day when everything in my mind was too much for me to deal with. I needed to know how he could just stop caring after loving me so much. I needed to know how he was okay, because I wanted so bad to be. After a couple weeks of this I told him that I was bringing our dog down and coming to see him, knowing I wouldn’t, but desperately hoping for a response. He texted my mom to let her know I had said that, in hopes she wouldn’t allow it to happen. About three hours later I texted him again, as I lied in bed with all the medicine I had left the hospital with. I asked him to please take care of our dog when I was gone, because he was the greatest blessing in the world, and he deserved to grow up with one of his parents. This time he didn’t text my mom a warning. I took about 25 opioid pain killers, 800 mg of seroquil, and an entire bottle of Prozac. About 20 minutes later it turned scary. My vision was blurred; the world was spinning. My heart started beating so fast, and so hard that all I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears. I remember trying to sit up and holding my heart, terrified that I was going to die from it exploding, and wondering if that would be a painful way to go. After a few minutes I lied down and closed my eyes, hoping to just fall asleep. I vaguely remember hearing my brother screaming. I remember hearing the EMTs. I remember randomly hearing nurses ask me questions that I thought I was responding to, but it was like my whole body was paralyzed besides my ears. I remember that I was forced to drink liquid charcoal, and then I remember waking up in the ICU. When I woke up, it was 14 hours and three rounds of narcan later. When I found out how close I was to succeeding I wasn’t relieved I hadn’t, but cried because I wished so much that it would have worked. After a few days in the hospital that changed. I was grateful for the people I met, and grateful I was living. I’d be lying if I said that there hasn’t been many times since that I’ve lied in bed wishing I had been successful, or thinking about suicide. But I realize how far I’ve come, and it’s only going to get better from here. I learned how little my life meant to the man I loved, but how much it meant to all those around me, even people I barely knew. I learned that I can feel happiness again, even if it’s not the same way I felt it before. And even more importantly, I learned it’s okay to not be okay, and that so many other people are capable of understanding how you feel, even if it’s not those closest to you. So, 2017, thank you. Thank you for kicking my ass, making me hit rock bottom, and slowly starting to build me back up. You’ve given me wisdom, strength and most importantly, determination. This year is about me, and being better than I ever was before, and building a life for myself, not someone else.
By Amanda Cleveland8 years ago in Psyche
