humanity
Mental health is a fundamental right; the future of humanity depends on it.
Fields of Frost
There was a loud thud, then a silence which surrendered all of it’s color, it had been 10 days since this horrid snowstorm had trapped me in an abandoned cabin somewhere in the mountains of Alaska, hope was drained from my thoughts and nothingness resumed with the white dress of the earth.
By Jose Flores5 years ago in Psyche
One Cold Night
Well, I wasn't sure what the sound was that woke me. It's best described as a young child in distress with a very faint cry. I untucked myself from my sleeping bag and carefully in slow movements lifted my woven cotton toque above my chilled ears. Listening ever so patiently while exhaling in slow rhythmic unlaboured function, it was evident that I probably was hearing things. You see, living on the streets in the cold months the sounds seem to echo in various directions with no particular point of origin. Now mind you, that sound, the distressed sound of cries happens a lot. It could have been a possibility that my sleeping bag was not covering the manhole on the sidewalk, and the escaping vapors of heat that are cherished so dearly made this faint cry. You see being homeless our minds are usually on high alert for any potential threats or sounds while we attempt to sleep. Well, I shouldn't speak for everyone, but this is how I feel. Maybe, just maybe the sewer gas that absorbs into my sleeping bag and the labored breathing in my sleep draw in these toxins. I am not sure but I hear all things are possible from others on the street. Gee, you know come to think of it, I haven't seen a doctor in maybe fifteen years. Maybe more, because honestly, I don't recall what year this is.
By Vinn Black5 years ago in Psyche
Are We Killing Young People
In the past months, my 13-year-old stepdaughter took 38 ibuprofen pills, was hospitalised and had to get her stomach pumped. My best friend’s stepdaughter took a bottle of pills and my stepdaughter's friend took his own life. They were all between the ages of 13 and 15. I acknowledge that there have always been mental health issues and indeed suicide but why does it seem like the problem is unprecedented? Why is the next generation so keen to die?
By maria mead5 years ago in Psyche
Expectant Eyes
My mouth feels heavy and too wet somehow. The taste of the moment tumbles around my mouth, thick, unnamable, definitely unpleasant. The show Gidget is playing in the distance. Terrible show really. Horrible lessons, a certain blend of offensively sexist and earnest that only 60s sitcoms can manage. Everything here is outdated. Outdated and broken.
By Christine Hollermann5 years ago in Psyche
It's Mental Illness Innit?
I wasn't diagnosed with depression and anxiety until my 20s but the earliest I remember experiencing anxiety is in my earliest memories; five, six maybe. Depression, the cunning bitch, didn't show up in earnest until late elementary.
By Christine Hollermann5 years ago in Psyche
If I Want to Move On...
There were times in my childhood and teenage years when my parents were “absent.” They both left me at times when I was transitioning and when changes were occurring. I should say, it wasn't all bad. I have fond memories with both parents and I'm grateful for the ones I do have. It’s hard for me, having the relationship with them that I do now, to put aside the past and move forward when so much of me is still in pain and hurting. Even in private, only to myself, I find it hard to talk or write about things that bring up painful memories or that might paint my parents in a bad light. Writing this I am knots knowing they might read this and hear me speak my true thoughts. Something I've rarely done with them throughout my life.
By Tabitha White5 years ago in Psyche
Psychology Master's Degree Personal Statement
"I woke up feeling as if I was falling from the sky again last night: head spinning, heart racing — I pulled my knees to my chest waiting for it to end. I felt my kitten lie down next to me and press her tiny, warm body against me, almost as if she knew that I was being attacked from the inside out. I talked myself out of going to the emergency room multiple times in that next hour, repeating over and over, “You’re ok, you can breathe” aloud to myself. As 4 or 5 a.m. hit, I finally fell back asleep after shutting off my alarms and giving up any hope I had the night before of making it to my morning classes.” (Fall 2015 — personal journal excerpt)
By Abigail Thayer5 years ago in Psyche
The Devils Details...
I I don't feel like a good person, nor do I want or desire to exist in this world anymore. I am narcissistic and I'm aware of how I want to heal from it but can't seem to find any motivation to do anything I might enjoy because I know I wouldn't find it emotionally satisfying.
By Jeremy Howard5 years ago in Psyche
I Believe
I believe that life is a tool to harness understanding. We are given so much to see and embrace yet how much do we reciprocate? The word “believe” usually is attached to some form of traditional habit. In all actuality, to believe is a natural phenomenon for mankind when we hear an idea, think about if or how we want it, then we do what we were thinking to do to get the idea in our possession. In order to reach for an idea we are thinking, we have to “believe” in the steps we received to make it happen.
By R.F. Serious5 years ago in Psyche
And in sleep, in slumber.
For posterity. Hah! I am going to write because I want to. I will write for no one else but me, and if you're going to say, why publish on Vocal? Well, why not? Perhaps someone will read it, maybe only my mother will. Although I doubt it very much. She doesn't quite get my humour - and suffice it today, she thinks me a cynic. Anyhow, let's write. If only to release the bursting cells of emotion within me - about to explode simultaneously - if not unburdened immediately. You'd find me a puddle - oozing, unmoving - dead. So, let's write.
By Crissa Labara5 years ago in Psyche
