coping
Life presents variables; learning how to cope in order to master, minimize, or tolerate what has come to pass.
Mental Health Awareness
Today I wanted to discuss something very important to me as an individual and something I feel should be spoken more about with clarity. It is a concept that has been underrated and hasn't had the power to influence many to feel okay about suffering with it. Mental Health Awareness; is a topic I want to elaborate on and will attempt in a few paragraphs as opposed to a 40-minute youtube video to elongate the simple details that are not known to many people, or spoken about enough.
By H E N N A J O U R N E Y5 years ago in Psyche
Monday Morning Self Discovery
As I was driving and daydreaming that day, Rolling Stones by Wild Rivers played. The first time it came on I just listened, then felt compelled to restart it, and this time I sang along. I was singing when a particularly large raindrop caught my eye as it hit the drivers side window, and behind that droplet was a house I’ve seen many times before. I thought about that house for a moment and my mind so generously gave me memories of when I first began working in this area. I would drive by that house every day and every day I would think to myself about how beautiful it was. A large colonial style home that had a particular warmth to it, the black shutters and door a wonderful contrast to ever pristine whiteness of it. Although it stood out wonderfully in the dreary December rain wearing it's wreaths proudly, I had always thought it looked magnificent. I remembered fondly how I would always crane my neck to look at it when I drove by. When did I stop doing that? It's still a beautiful home and I still believe in that fact but when did I stop looking to appreciate it? When did it subconsciously become another mundane part of my life, and is it possible I do that with everything? I thought about this as I was singing along and oddly enough, I realized that my eyes were filled with tears. Not a typical sort of welled up eyes, but the kind of tears that scratch from underneath the skin on your cheeks as if every ounce of sorrow is trying to escape through your pores. I think I was sad about more than a few things that I had yet to analyze, instead put in a locker in the pit of my stomach to save for a later time.
By Grace Burr5 years ago in Psyche
The Unseen Disease
Diarrhea doesn’t exactly create a feeling of closeness; colonoscopies aren’t exactly conducive to intimate moments. Whether by the choice of others or your own, disease only makes you more isolated. Especially when that disease isn’t readily seen by others, when the vast majority of it takes place in the bathroom.
By Beth Carlberg5 years ago in Psyche
Confusion:in words
Distractions. All I want to have. I look and look to find something to occupy my mind. I can’t listen to myself a second longer. My mind is so foggy and every night an inexplicable wave or some may say rush comes over mind. I want to feel, I want to stretch it all out. But it doesn’t work. Stretching it out, clenching my fists together won’t get it to go away. Talking. That isn’t an option. I don’t know how. Every time I waste time trying to seem fine, trying to make sense of things. I say sometimes I think these thoughts but that’s a lie to you, to myself even. I guess I say ‘sometimes’ because saying all the time or every night sounds too much like depression. I have been told that depression never goes away. I’ve also been told that ‘happiness’ is a choice. Then here, I choose happiness! I’m typing it I’m thinking it. I want it. But where is it when I need it. Nowhere. It’s a once in a moon feeling, and I hate that. I dwell on them moments, clinging onto the light they bring me .But that light, it’s burning. It’s out. It’s left the frame of my comical life and comically ill self. I’m smiling. Not because I’m happy but because I put it into words. Something I doubted I would ever be capable of.
By Zainab Rehman5 years ago in Psyche
A Story of Stuffies
My spouse and I are perhaps not the shining examples of adulting. This morning I had to literally call my parents to help me get out of bed. Our furnace had commitment issues last night and my spouse and I (the ones with arthritis) sleep in the basement. My joints froze to the point where I could not move and needed someone to pry me free.
By Karalynn Rowley5 years ago in Psyche
I want out
I want out of this abusive relationship… You take and take and never give. You are constantly nagging at me with a relentless draining energy. You come between me and my family and friends. You won’t let me go places or do the things I used to. The only time I get to forget about you is when I am floating off in a medicated stupor and sometimes you still remain close by. This is no way to live. Your only purpose it to show me I am mortal.
By Gina Solomon5 years ago in Psyche
Dealing with Imposter Syndrome
When I was a child, I had a knack for reading and writing. It was simply an area that felt natural to me, and perhaps that was the trade-off for being completely numerically illiterate. Although growing up I was praised by my teachers and my family who continuously encouraged me to pursue writing in University, I resisted. Writing was something that came easy, it was something I could rely on to produce a great mark with little effort, it was never something I considered pursuing as a career choice.
By Michelle Pattison5 years ago in Psyche
Simple Truths
In the last few months many people I know have lost people they love. I feel heartbroken for them. I wish I could offer words that contained the power to heal but I have nothing. In fact, I think if they were to stand before me the truth is I would be nervous of what to say and how to act. I would be cautious of saying anything trite or redundant. The good ol “I’m so sorry for your loss” or the comforting “they will always be with you”. Although full of good intention they become just something people say. When I lost my mom I felt like if I heard one more person say to me “I’m so sorry” I was going to lunge at them. Each time it felt like taking a bullet. I can’t offer any words of advice or spiritual guidance. Having lost my soulmate, someone who is truly the best part of me, I’m sure should have somehow qualified me for such a task but it doesn’t. Each person’s experience belongs to only them and just because we lose someone doesn’t qualify us to say “I know how you feel”. It doesn’t qualify us to know someone else’s pain or experience. What I can offer is some simple truths in my experience.
By Nicole Daga5 years ago in Psyche
