"Don't You Miss Drinking?"
I guess the best way to start this is just to dive right in. My name’s Emily, I’m an alcoholic and I’m very open about it, which, to each their own it’s anonymous for a reason, I’m just not a good rule follower. I know for a fact that it catches people off guard when I offer up this little morsel about myself. How do I know? Because it’s usually followed by “really?!” (yes really, thanks for asking), or “Oh no you’re not!” (oh, but I am), or my favorite, “but you don’t look like an alcoholic!” (now tell me, what exactly does an alcoholic look like?).
A Date With Water
I have always loved the water. I soak in hot springs. I mud and salt my bare body in murky lakes. I pray in holy rivers. I swim naked in Japanese bath-houses with other naked women. Immersing myself in water is the only time I truly switch off from the world. When I turn the tap labelled H all the way to the right with just a little bit of C, I dunk my head in as the ceramic bowl fills. I feel my hair soak and my ears fill with growling minerals. My nose and face are exposed in the hot damp air, just enough for me to breathe. I close my eyes, and I listen to the waters thunder. If I keep my eyes shut long enough, I envision myself lost at sea, floating away from a sunken ship. The water is not rough, nor cold. I float through the night, staring up at the stars that blanket the sky. I see huge stars, tiny stars, a white full moon with a blank staring face. The sinking ship is far from me now, I have no guarantee of surviving the night. But in this sea, I am completely safe, for if death should come I couldn’t ask for a calmer one. In essence, everything is sweet.
- First Place in Sister Circle Challenge
Brei, In all fairness, I have not known you for a long time. A few years. Yet, you have endured more in the small amount of time I have known you, than people I have known my entire 30 years of life.
Peering into the woman who stood before me, I got lost in the uncertainty of her glare. Unemotive eyes hiding the tension held between her shoulders, pulling her posture inward. The routine sigh wasn’t deep enough to release the tightness that wrapped around her chest. Quiet judgments filled the air, even in silence they were all I could hear, I guess I never quite learned how to love the reflection I saw in the mirror. Clumsily, I collect my things. Frightened by the echo of my mascara hitting the bathroom sink, still not a cacophony bold enough to bring me back to the moment. I had drifted down the deserted path of my anxieties, absent of the wisdom I held my standards to, and there was no end in sight. Alerted by the reverberating call coming from my torn coat pocket, it was time to force myself out the door.
Rules To My Life.
I have suffered from depression for a little more than half of my life. It is a rough road to living and being satisfied when dealing with depression. Throw in a little obsessive-compulsive disorder and you really have a recipe for some fun thought and behavioral patterns. I require a set of rules to keep myself above water. Through the creation of these 'life rules,' I have made it easier to enjoy my life. Let's just get right down to it;
What I Learned From Rejection
Rejection is what you make of it. Many paths we take in life include the possibility of facing rejection. It’s not about if we will face it but how that makes the most difference.
Profile of a Young Black Creator & Mental Health Advocate
When I was graduating from high school, my older sister told me that college is the place where I'll make my lifelong friends. I prayed then that she was correct because I couldn't imagine getting through such a big change in my life without good friends by my side. I've come to realize that my sister was right because throughout my college journey, I made a few friends who I can definitely see being there for the biggest moments in my life. In my freshman year of college, I met an unassuming but incredibly creative young man named Raymond Campbell III and since then he's been a friend that I know I can always call on and he's doing great things in his life.
Five Rules of Adventure
01. “He was a bit of a closed book.” - Go to Page 2. ____________________________________ 02. As you rifle through your late father’s meager but neatly organized possessions up in the family attic, you come upon a little black notebook under a stack of old photo albums.
Behind the Scenes
Exploring mental health in the public eye; celebrities and the spotlight that has been placed on their personal lives and their mental health.
Discovering the ins and outs of treatments and therapies. Join the conversation today.
Beyond the Blues
Understanding depression is difficult; hear from Psyche's community of peers on their experiences with this mood disorder.
Hold the door, offer your jacket, say please and thank you, buy her flowers. Put a napkin on your lap, never eat the last slice of cake, know the difference between your soup spoon and dessert spoon. Never ask a woman her age. Don’t just ask how her day was, listen to what she says. Give up your seat on the metro, treat those in the service industry with respect and dignity, walk her home, never leave the party without thanking the host.
3 Radically Simple Ways to Practice Self-care
If you are probably looking for quicker, more efficient means to improve your life, you are not alone. Not all of us intuitively know how best to care for ourselves. We could all use some extra help navigating an increasingly complicated daily environment.
Small is the word most often used to describe me. It is not meant to be an insult, just an objective observation. Sometimes it is even used in a positive context, a synonym for cute. If I stand as straight as possible, I am a mere five foot six inches. My weight fluctuates between 95 and 105 pounds.
Does an 'influencer' do more harm than good?
The phrase 'social media is fake' is tossed around so often that it has become a cliché amongst the 'influencer' community. The importance of self-love and self-care is brandished in a sparkly filter and edited to make the 'influencer' look more aesthetically pleasing and so, undermines and contradicts the actual message they are advertising. The irony being that 'social media is fake' - and that is all of it. Every. Single. Thing. This is what many young people do not understand. When your favourite 'influencer' is talking about self-love in front of a filter to make their waist look smaller on a video, they are being fake as well. They are promoting the idea of self-love from a place of great narcissism and bad intentions. Why? So that you do not use said filters and editing to make yourself look a certain way, but they continue to. Again, why? Well, because they want to make themselves feel like they are better than everyone else and because of the vapid nature of an 'influencer' - they focus purely on the appearance and nothing else. Intelligence, personality and personal qualities do not matter to them. If they can feel like their appearance is better than yours then they will promote this in any way possible. It is a senseless and sociopathic act of narcissism.
How Playing Like A Kid Helped Me Manage My Anxiety
I had never really heard of or thought about the idea that playing with kid's games could help reduce anxiety. I was always under the impression that you just needed to think differently about your problems, and everything would be OK.
Self-love is too often misunderstood as selfishness, a sort of egotistical, greedy and narcissistic state of being at the exclusion or expense of others.
Inside ~ By : J Tales are something parents tell their kids so they sleep better at night. Peaceful and Enchanting dreams created by the fairytales of their favorite superheroes or who they admire most in the world. To avoid the darkness and fearful nightmares of reality hidden beneath the surface. Lights grants truth and the truth brings peace. How long before those fairytales become lies? Well this story however is not a fairytale but it is the deepest part of your mind. Emma lays awake at night hoping and praying her mind’s eye is just an illusion. Inside the shadows there is a light in the distance pulling Emma and longing for her to reach it. The darkness that surrounds Emma to the point she hears nothing but the sound of her own thoughts at night. Asking herself “what’s wrong with me?” Over and over again never coming up with an answer for hope. “Faith” she whispered to herself, “I have to believe in faith” but is that all she can wish for. A shiny star in the sky, A last glimmer of hope and freedom. Is faith really all there is for an answer? With her hands over her head and pacing back and forth until she falls to her knees and Just cries. Crying for hours of the night til falling asleep to wake up to the sunlight hitting her face. She has to put a smile on her face and pick out an extraordinary outfit to start the day. Covering her wore out eyes from crying all night with makeup. Emma’s mind pushes back all the bad and focused a smile on her face for the entire day just waiting to go home and suffer in silence. “Another day....” she said as she walks into the whole slowly breaking inside but holding up a strong front to hide herself from showing she’s breaking inside. After a long Emma comes home and it’s filled with silence again so she turns on the music to surround the room with noise. After awhile of sitting with so much noise in the room it becomes not enough the thoughts in her head drown out the noise. So she finally stands up and walks in her bathroom and grabs pills. She takes a few with some liquor. “I can’t do it anymore” she cries. She turns the music off and goes to lay down but her body is so weak. Emma lost all hope the moment she took those pills. Everything in her body screams to die, that her only peace is death. As her eyes closing slowly she can hear footsteps but can’t make a face it’s all a blur. As she’s embraces her faith and ready to go into an eternal deep sleep and she slips into the darkness of her mind spiraling down memories. She remembers the coldness and loneliness of when she was raped for the first time as a child. Men coming into her room as she was sleeping putting their hands around her neck so she couldn’t scream as one man rips her clothes and the others hold her down from struggling. Her eyes start to blur in and out of focus as if she was going to die but before she lost all vision she could see the man’s face. With a slightly shaved beard and dark hair and eyes of coldness as he took off her pants and forced himself upon her. The face she saw, the face she loved so dearly once before .... was her own father.
5 signs you are Ambivert
Most people have identified themselves as introverts or extroverts at some point in their lives. However, in some cases, that identification was mistaken.
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