disorder
The spectrum of Mental Health disorders is incredibly vast; we showcase the multitude of conditions that affect mood, thinking and behavior.
Social Identity Crisis Intervention
Why are you still sitting there all by yourself? Why are you shutting the world completely out? You hide your face but nobody wants it hidden. They want to fully see it; not just through a partial view. They want to see you as you completely are without any cover-ups or false truths of someone that you always try your best to imitate. They are not the real you. You are always worried about what other people think and stay sore, afraid in your insecurities. You are jealous when other people win, making it so they won't win again, and you always lose. I mean, why should anyone else have a great day when you live to stay miserable? You can hardly stand to see someone smile or have a skip to their step. It makes you sick inside and your heart continues to harden. You begin to dislike them and then you start to build a barrier between you and them. They're no longer your friend on social media and they can't figure out what went wrong and why the friendship no longer exists. Yet you don't panic about it because you obviously don't care. Your mindset is all that matters and what you think they think about you. Because to you, that's the real truth regardless of anyone else's opinion and it will stay that way until the end. You move on with your life but you tell the people that are closest to you that no one likes you and you innocently act like you can't figure it out. The whole thing has you completely stunned but deep inside you know the truth. There are many days you blame God for it, though you say you love Him. You not only point your fingers at Him but also your accusers. You had nothing to do with this and it's never your fault; it's always someone else's. But they will pay for it in the end. Their pain justifies your existence and for you, that’s a great day. You always hope they never smile again and their soul be damned at least for the moment. Your heart is bitter but you feel you have the bigger one and it's humanity as a whole that’s really against you. You believe are your only friend but not every day. There are some days that you despise yourself too and you don't know why you continue living. You feel you were once a somebody and the role you played defined who you were but you lost it. You feel someone took it away but you let them end it. As a matter of fact, it was you that let them do it. You got tired of trying and you lost confidence and stopped loving yourself. And now you lay for days with your head in hand on the ground wishing the world would stop turning. You hope that today doesn't turn into tomorrow and you loathe change in your life. As a matter of fact, you despise it. You don't believe there's a good future for you because you don't gave a good pair of binoculars to look into tomorrow. You think every day that tomorrow may never come and you will never find your true self again and that frightens you. So you stay living in this protected bubble making sure you never get hurt again as you live your life in someone else's eyes. It makes you feel great for a day or a week and life doesn't seem so bad for the moment but there lies your true identity in the lost and found box waiting and longing to be picked up by you. You know it's there but you don't know how to go over and grab it because you don't believe that it's the real you anymore and you feel everything is lost.
By Kathy Lester8 years ago in Psyche
The Art of Isolation
I’m 28. I’ll just start off by telling you that. Most of the people I went to high school with are now well into their careers and their “adult” lives. One guy I dated is now a doctor with a PhD and a family, and another is a very rich and successful professional photographer. And I should be in that category with them. I did all the right things: I studied hard and got straight A’s in high school, I went to college and graduated suma cum laude... and for all that, I cannot figure out where my life began to derail so horribly.
By Kimberly Alcorn8 years ago in Psyche
A New Me
It started with a dress, mirror, and depression. They were all present when I had my first experience with my disease. I was wearing a white dress with a black strip of lace around the waist of the dress. I wasn't one to consider myself pretty, or even attractive, but that dress, I loved how it looked on me. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was in awe. For the very first time I had considered myself pretty and attractive. I wasn't in the best emotional state at the time, going through family issues, simple troubles that teenagers go through. These issues triggered my depression and, for some odd reason, the disease. Those three things started the hell that I've been living in for three years.
By Brianna Valenzuela8 years ago in Psyche
Memoirs of a Borderline
Reading other memoirs of people with borderline personality disorder has brought me to a place where I want to tell my story about my struggles with mental illness. It is hard to bring myself to write this because I am discouraged by the fact that people don’t want to hear a sob story, and maybe this memoir seems I am begging for pity. That is not what I want. I only want to share my feelings about what it is like to live with the disorder, among other disorders.
By Emily Carrin8 years ago in Psyche
The Long Road Ahead
September 12th, 2012 Every day seems like a constant struggle. At that start of my day I have to try to decide who I want to be. I can be the solemn employee, the spiteful daughter, the cheery mother, or the uninterested wife. There's nothing in between. My moods shift from one to another like a flick of a light switch. However, somehow I still feel empty on the inside.
By Byanka Delgado8 years ago in Psyche
Perspective: A Teen’s Struggle with Weight Loss and Depression
I was only 13 when I started to worry about my weight. My diet was horrible, I exercised maybe once a week — and yet everyone said it was stupid to be worried because I was, “skinny.” In my mind, this could not have been further from the truth. To me, skinny was a word of the past. All I could focus on were the stretch marks on my thighs and stomach. My parents said that I was “just filling out” and that I was “beautiful no matter what”, but they had to say that; they’re my parents.
By Madeleine Ramon8 years ago in Psyche
