humanity
Mental health is a fundamental right; the future of humanity depends on it.
In the Eyes...
I know I’ve been saying for a long time that I will do something lifestyle based and so, I am doing a lifestyle blog about things that happen on a day-to-day basis. I will be talking about my experiences with various things, some things will come back over and over again because my days are very much similar. If something else happens then it happens. Hopefully, you and I can get along and I can go along and tell you a little bit of a story about this experience I’ve had and then we’re going to talk about it. I’m going to discuss my reaction and my thoughts on the experience afterwards. Not only am I thinking about getting a dialogue going, but I’m also looking to make friends with people who have probably had similar experiences to me. Not only that though, maybe we can have a bit of a laugh and rethink this shit - maybe our minds can be changed and enlightened together. Or, you can just be here to enjoy the story and listen to me ramble on. If you want to read this in my voice then I kind of sound like a cross between Freddie Mercury and Scar from the “Lion King”. So get the full ‘experience’ there. So immersive.
By Annie Kapur5 years ago in Psyche
A Toxic Kind of Love
I'm laying in a hospital bed, spilling my guts. I'm telling my family everything about Ben. Things I was never able to tell them due to being kept away from everyone. I share about the drugs, I share about the abuse, I share about the forced shoplifting (I'll get into that more here soon). My mind was a literal melted bowl of ice cream at this time. I thought I had almost died via OD like a week prior and that a demon jumped into my body while I was at the brink of death to save me and inhabit my soul. I remember even telling my grandmother that I am bisexual. Something I swore to never tell her because I was afraid she would stop loving me. I told all of my deepest secrets, about how I've needed help for a long time. I shared about how I was raped at 15, and how I was kidnapped and sexually abused by a "boy-friend" at 17. The look of shock and sadness in my grandmothers eyes will never leave me. I will forever have the look of my mothers serious yet saddened eyes as she tells me to never do something like this again. I knew she was frightened, and I knew she was hurt. I knew that I caused that by my selfish actions. I was eventually whisked away to a mental rehabilitation hospital, Hickory Trail.
By Ashley Starkweather5 years ago in Psyche
The Spider and the Dragonfly
Good morning my darlings, how are we all today? Breath, remember to breathe, you're not alone, I know it feels like that sometimes, and I know how it can destroy a day, a week, or a month. I promise there is light at the end of the tunnel just not in the way you might think. The light is coming from you, not the end of your journey. After all, as Budha said there is no end, just new beginnings. Each depended on your own karma. I hold onto that, it gives me comfort. I used to feel alone, which is somewhat true. We come into this earth alone and naked, and we end that life the same way. You take nothing and nobody with you. I came from a very violent traumatic childhood that shaped how I grew from a child to adolescent, to an adult. I am still working hard to change the pathways in my brain, find better, healthier defense mechanisms to ‘Save myself’ from situations, in fact from mostly everything. I have good days where I bounce out of bed, and get the day started. Today isn’t one of them, but I have learned to use tools, coping strategies. I say this with respect, but no one can save you but you. I like that saying. I am in my late forties, and have suffered from multiple mental health issues. I used to go to the doctor, hoping for help, or councollers. And some were good, some were terrible. My first stay in a phyciatric unit was in a small community, Sechelt BC. I went in feeling drained, afraid and suicidal. I was expecting.. I'm not sure what I expected, other than simply help a little bit of compassion and understanding. I was mortified to find out it's not always the case. Talk about bursting a bubble. The nurses were tired and overworked, there were a few nice people, but one thing I learned was that doctors, therapists, nurses they are all just human beings with their own damaged psyche. Some are just able to hide it better than me. After two days, I was told I had to leave. I was shocked, I still felt bad, felt like killing myself and they were going to send me home. I did something I never had before. I begged. I begged with tears streaming down my face, please do not release me yet I told this psychiatrist. I knew in my heart I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t feeling strong enough to be out on my own. My family hadn’t come to see me, no one said anything, mental health was a dirty little secret that no one wants to admit or talk about. I was alone. After an exchaused sigh he looked right at me and said if your going to kill yourself, get it over with. My mouth dropped open, how could anyone say something so cruel, A physiatrist at that. To this day, his words haunt me every morning I wake up.
By MoriaCavandish5 years ago in Psyche
Girl on the Terrace
I needed to think. Just to get away from everything. My apartment. My dead-end job as a painter. I left my cellphone behind even. I figured empty terrace just below the roof access would be empty right now. It was where everyone went to smoke after work, but it was still nighttime only shortly before daylight. That’s when I saw her.
By Taylor Mick5 years ago in Psyche
Mental Health
I am an addict wrapped in a co-dependent. I have an attachment style that is somewhere between anxious and fearful. I overthink, I under eat and I can cry on demand. Not my demand, of course, but when something feels demanding and I can not do anything but cry. I lie in bed at night trying to make myself sleep and I wake up trying to make myself sleep. I am my own worst enemy, most judgmental critic, and but can still look myself in the mirror and say "It's all going to be okay, we will get through this. You are not alone". I care what people say and think, even though they really don't know the person I am, and my feelings are often hurt far easier than necessary. I am a dysfunctional super hero with the need to help and save everyone in my life except my own.
By Sharolette Ray5 years ago in Psyche
Him
“Him” “It’s cold...” this all the runs through his mind while he is alone in his room, with a blanket and many layers of clothes. But in his mind he is naked, alone and afraid in a deep dark abyss where all there is to be felt is the cold and fear... immense fear... petrifying fear... in a blink of an eye he is transported away from this place to somewhere new, somewhere he is safe yet feels a great sense of danger. Chills run up and down his spine as he realizes he is back home but everything is different, not exactly upside down or right side up but titled, in a way this felt right to him. As he reaches for the coach to grab hold and take a seat the room goes pitch black... then the lights come back almost as quickly as they went out, he wasn’t alone, he could feel it, he could hear it. A whisper can be heard from his a room in the house, with great fear yet curiosity he goes to the room, as he opens the door he is shocked to see that it is himself laying in bed, with clothes on, a blanket on top and “Kevin Hart” playing on the TV, but time has slowed down, almost to a freeze, he notices that the version of himself watching the TV is smiling, he is happy, he is care-free, it is then when he realizes that he is in a dream and will wake up anytime soon... it is when he comes to this realization that he feels something... someone touch the back of his neck, a cold “hand” lightly grazed him but it felt almost as if someone had taken a machete to the back of his neck. It took him a minute to recover from the stinging pain, “Coooooome to meeee” a familiar voice whispers to him. The hallways of his home became infinitely longer, almost as if they had no end, running just made things worse, he walked for hours on end, even forgetting why he was walking until the whisper came again “giving up already... I didn’t think you were that weak, guess I’m not surprised” but this time it wasn’t a whisper, it was just a voice talking normally almost teasing him, he must have be going crazy as he thought to himself “is that me?” The voice played over and over and over again getting louder and louder every time he replayed it. After what felt an eternity he finally made it back to the titled living room, as he looks backs to look at the hallway it’s back to normal, no longer than 5 feet.
By Victor Vega5 years ago in Psyche
Frantic Friday
I just feel so suicidal. It is not like I wanna die or anything. I just want to be heard. And everything hurts and it disperses and transverses into hate, anger, and makes me want to curse. At the world. My heart hurts. My throat is being stepped on by a million men. Walking on it like a bridge that can no longer keep itself up. Its weird to have such uncontrolled mind. It has many many thoughts of its own. And you are not a part of them at all. I woke up this morning, transfused with sadness, bitterness and anger. And I just want to shout at the universe. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. The air will forever feel cold to me. It will forever feel weird . It will forever feel like a distant nightmare. Every single breath I take, I feel like snow is just flooding my lungs. My esophagus burns. It all burns. And you’re in fear of even just speaking because of how scary it is. its terrifying. Sometimes it’s too much and you feel clueless. Your mind is spiraling like the topping of a cinnamon roll. And you think of the things that are comforting. Aren’t cinnamon rolls comforting. I look at my socks all the time. They have a spiral like shape on each side. I have green socks with Swiss rolls on them. I think to myself all the time, what would life be like if I were a Swiss roll? Would I be wanted? Would I be taken into? Or would I be swallowed whole like a Swiss roll? I just said that twice cause it rhymed. But you see how when you type certain words, you reveal your true authentic self each and every time even though it’s messed up? It’s the weirdest thing. Everything is going to feel weird at first. It’s going to be icky like catching cooties on the playground. I remember when that was a thing. I always had the illest cooties because no one wanted to be around me. I felt like Greg who ate the nasty cheese. No one liked me. And I never knew why. Is it because I seek comfort from animals? Is it because I like to wear weird clothes? Who knows. I was the oddball in middle school. All the way through high school. I was either too loud, too quiet, or didn’t have the best clothes. I didn’t wear Jordans and Adidas tracksuits like the other kids. I liked band t shirts, chokers, and platform buckle boots. I enjoyed listening to the deep sounds of rock, and could care less about Pop. You know? Does this all even make sense. When you have general anxiety like myself, your thoughts are practically everywhere. And I mean literally. EVERYWHERE. Its kinda like tiny Swarovski rhinestones that fall out of your pockets with the holes on the bottom. also like the kid on the polar express that lost that Santa bell from his sleigh. You seen how heartbroken and confused he was? Like he had no clue that Santa was going to send that bell back to him and he can literally shake it in the Christmas spirit. My head hurts typing this. My thoughts give me a headache. Its kind of like a tumor on your head. AndI’m using too many similes. Thats my issue. I compare everything to anything. And it only makes sense to me. When I wrote my poetry, my therapist just goes “you know this is good.” And I’m just like “how so?” And he says : “Melanie, the things you write just doesn’t make sense. And maybe things aren’t supposed to pull together or make sense. Maybe there’s just isn’t a correct way or a right way. We’re just a figment of each others minds.
By Melanie Troncoso5 years ago in Psyche
I am nothing
I am nothing. Let that sit with you for a moment. I am nothing. But I don't want your pity. Here's why: For the past four years, and possibly more, I have felt this deep, aching, emptiness where my heart is adrift from any anchorage within my body. I saw a dear friend and the world's best energy healer last week and I described it to him as "disembodied". I literally feel like I am not in my body. It's like I'm here, but not here.
By Alyssa Curtayne5 years ago in Psyche
Mental Health Awareness
To begin, how did I realize I had a mental illness? To start, I was fourteen years old and my parents started to notice some differences in my behavior and the way I was interacting with others. They weren't shocked though which was surprising. Having a mental illness was completely new to me and I had no idea what it meant. I started to feel emotions i.e more sadness, excessive aggression, and hopelessness. I felt like I was lost and empty. I didn't know what to do with myself. I was completely disguised of my real true identity. I first thought to myself "Why me?, this couldn't happen to me does this mean i'm not normal? "My first signs of my behavior differences are : noncompliance with parents then it turned into jobs and school. The second I was not keeping up with daily hygiene routines and lastly was being isolated in my room by choice. These all affected my daily living.
By hunter ruchelle5 years ago in Psyche
When You're 34 And Still Don't Pay Income Taxes
I just turned 34 years old a couple of weeks ago. Something about 34 hit me differently than the three 30 something years prior. I felt as though I had cross over into a threshold of being an adult that could no longer be anything but an adult.
By Todd Schultz5 years ago in Psyche
