recovery
Your illness does not define you. It's your resolve to recover that does.
Dear Diary
Wednesday, February 2 Dear Diary, I am physically and emotionally exhausted, I have not slept in days. The thought of him coming back sends a chill through my blood and shivers down my spine. My wounds burn, my bruises ache. I have hit rock bottom and cannot bear the guilt he has appointed in me. I need to find a way out of this house, a way to keep my child safe, but it seems as though his recurring presence will never decease. My only outlet is you, a little black book covered hidden under some folded blankets in my bare room.
By Emma Elferdink5 years ago in Psyche
The first entry.
Mei's small but slender fingers traced delicately over the notebook bound by an old shoestring atop a stack of other similar ones. Dad's choice was always black, now a deep dusty grey. She had her own. It was an expense they couldn't afford; the damp smell in her dad's arms-width office was evidence of that. The scent made her insides twist with pain. It had been two months since his funeral and she still spent almost every day curled up under his desk, scared to open his drawers unless his perfume escaped to mix with the air becoming eternally lost. She often thought about opening and reading his notebooks, like they once did and yet a deep fear of something terrible happening held her back. Curious, she placed her index finger under the tattered shoestring and pulled gently; it held taut despite its years. If she unravelled them, would the words he had scribed lift off the page and float away? She lay on the floor, knees tight to her chest picturing that. Words floated, shimmering through the air around her, letters forming from specs of gold as the sunlight trickled through a small window. It made her smile watching her little world fizz and crackle with life.
By Tiffany Kee5 years ago in Psyche
Help Wanted
“I know what you’re up to,” Todd confronted her. “Don’t think you can fool me.” Rachel smiled and looked up at her co-worker from where she bent over her little black book. “Couldn’t fool you if I tried,” she said. “But just so we’re clear, how am I trying to fool you?”
By Stephanie Messer5 years ago in Psyche
Silver Linings Playbook is not a story about how love cures all
Silver Linings Playbook has long been one of my favourite movies. David O'Russel did a genius job of adapting the novel into an explosive screenplay with a huge heart, much like our main characters Pat and Tiffany. Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence gave performances of a lifetime, earning both Oscar Nominations and a win for J-Law. With O'Russel's direction, the trio went on to work on American Hustle and Joy following the success of Silver Linings Playbook. But upon its' release, many voiced concerns that the movie adds to stigma surrounding mental illness and its' treatment. The narrative structure, culminating in the two main characters falling in love and deciding to be together implies a "happily ever after" that we know is not realistic for anyone, let alone for people suffering from long-term psychiatric conditions. But I'm here to argue that this was not the filmmakers intent. Let's break it all down.
By Corinne McCafferty5 years ago in Psyche
