Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Psyche.
The Invisible Friend
Depression comes and goes, just as if it was daylight fading into a moon lit sky. The stars come out. It’s a magical and glorious thing to see. All of the stars shining so bright, the apparent constellations, and the magnificent shooting star you see every so often. It’s just beautiful. But, just as the daylight fades, so do any feelings. All besides one. The smile that once lit up a room just like the peak of sunshine through your curtains and blinds, and the eyes that twinkled more then any star in the sky, seems to just... fade. Your mood changes into a dark and everlasting emotion. As if it was a black hole, or the night sky, where the moon is blocked by heavy clouds, and not a single star to brighten the lonely sky. For awhile you feel a hole. There’s a void. Something missing, or not right. But it’s making you uneasy. You can’t figure it out, but then, it seems like you’ve been held down. By an unapparent force. You can’t see that force. But you know who it is. It seems to be your comforting best friend who brings you back to your true form in the midst of the night. Like a werewolf that has changed from human to wolf with a full moon, except your true form isn’t another figure. It’s an imaginary figure, a thought in your mind. But this thought that’s been in the back of your head since you could remember can no longer be held back. The same memory that put you in this same stress-ridden place you’ve been placed in for years. As you look into your ceiling begging anyone in their afterlife, or god, or someone of higher power to just let you give up. You hold on. The commitment you make to family and friends is a greater power then the voice inside your head saying you’re too weak to keep going. That voice sees right through your fake smile, and knows the twinkle in your eyes are there because you force that to be there. You want everyone to think you’re stronger than you are. You’re like Achilles, except your weakness isn’t in your heel. It’s the pit in your stomach, and the hole in your heart that had seemed to grow more and more. The hole in your heart and the pit in your stomach could be self-inflicted, the aftermath of what you think reality is. As you wait to fall into a deep sleep so you can’t feel a thing, you seem unable to. When you do, it seems as though you cried before, during, and when you woke up. But you didn’t. As the mood stays for days on end, you’re left in the dark, wondering how long it’ll take you to lift your spirits for the millionth time. But that soothing, familiar feeling seems to have made you warm inside. Eventually, you don’t feel anything. You can’t feel pain, disappointment, or even sadness anymore. Just the thought of being tired, and not being good enough are lingering. But it seems as though you’ve been told too many times that you’re not good enough, so that doesn’t phase you anymore. That feeling turns into a pit of nothingness going down a never ending black hole. It’s soothing to feel serenity and peace, even though it’s just the opposite of what everyone else sees for the days you’ve been suckered in for. It’s the words your invisible friend has been telling you. The twinkle in your eye, the bright smile you once truly thought would stay this time, seem to be forced. Everybody notices but nobody asks. And you’re OK with that. Eventually, your feelings will fade into a lesser pain. But it never goes away. Just like a cold breeze on a warm day, or a cold breeze on a cold day. Everything lingers. When you’re back to yourself, you can see how bright the stars shine at night. You see how the moon lights up the sky. You finally can see how the universe is one, and works together to make a better version of itself. And that’s why you’re here, still. The greater power and beauty of the night sky resembles you as a person. Working in wonderful ways, stars exploding making a magnificent view for you to see, just for you to realize one day, that you are supposed to be right where you are.
By Maille Maloney7 years ago in Psyche
Depression
Living with depression is hard to portray to someone who is lucky enough to not suffer from this mental illness, or any kind of mental illness. I like to think of myself as a good writer but even now I am struggling to find the words to give even the slightest insight. On the worst of days, living with depression is not living. Mental illness is something widely and commonly misunderstood. Of course, mental illness differs and there are various types of it, all of which are life altering, but I will focus on depression as it is the most common and something from which I suffer myself. The idea that something inside my head is not right, not only terrifies me, but deeply saddens me. I often think: why me? What is it about my head and my brain that is different from that of a normal happy person? Well, I think that I know the cause. I believe the root of my depression stems from losing my dad when I was age 15, but there are many other factors. Some people have no specific cause or trauma that triggers it, it just happens. Either way, I have to live with it. And so do many others. To think that a chemical imbalance in my brain has had such an impact in my life, more so than real people and real interactions. It is all in my head and I always think to myself ‘why can’t you just be ok.' There is so much in my life I have to be grateful for, but it’s almost as if it is just out of my reach. It is as if I am looking at my own life through a glass screen. I’m not in control. Sometimes it is easier to stay in bed. There is a sort of safety about that, something I can’t explain.
By Rebecca Corbett7 years ago in Psyche
The Beginning of a Long Voyage
Overcoming mental illness is a process that affects every part of your life. It is a constant battle between the brain and the self. One of the worst aspects of this affliction is so often the brain and the self feel as though they are together on this horrible journey. The brain being such a powerful organ it can seemingly control every aspect of your life during mental illness. It feels as though the two are completely inseparable.
By Denise Kerry7 years ago in Psyche
My Sadie
Meet Sadie. She is my constant companion, my 'go to girl', and my life saver. I'm Sue, Sadie's mom, and I have bipolar disorder. When I say she is my life saver, I am not referring to her rescuing me from rushing waters or pulling me out of an inferno. She saves me from falling into the depths of despair that comes with my illness. Look at those eyes. There is nothing but love there. No judgement, no awful stigma. Nothing but pure, unfiltered love.
By Sue Ryerson7 years ago in Psyche
Mind vs. Body
For years I battled depression and anxiety without even knowing, or understanding, what was actually happening inside my mind and inside my body. Growing up around the traditional western medical model, I was trained to treat my mind separate from my body. So, I went to therapy and talked about my feelings until all of my tears were gone and I was too exhausted to go on, but yet, I never actually felt better. It does help to say what was going on in my mind and to try and articulate what I was feeling, but I still went home feeling sluggish, overly fatigued, and unmotivated to do anything other than sit in my bedroom and sob.
By Devin Bowes7 years ago in Psyche