humanity
Mental health is a fundamental right; the future of humanity depends on it.
A Spark of Kindness
The morning sun struggled to pierce through the overcast sky on that fateful Tuesday, casting a somber atmosphere that mirrored my heavy heart as I braced myself for another lengthy, uneventful shift at the local grocery store. Clocking in for the day, I reluctantly took my place behind the checkout counter, mechanically scanning items with a sense of detachment as a steady stream of customers passed through the line.
By Faceless Lim2 years ago in Psyche
Finding Pope at the Post Office
The woman’s silver hair sparkles in the watery light of an early November afternoon. It catches my eye before I notice anything else: the youthful face framed by her hair, the cups of coffee and take-out pastry bags she juggles. I watch her only because I’m waiting for my turn to post a package and buy a sheet of forever stamps.
By Joyce Sherry2 years ago in Psyche
The Journey. Top Story - September 2024.
I had a long week at work. I just started a new job, and was surrounded by new faces. This company had their cliques, and I definitely didn't feel like I fit into any of them. I had just left a two year long amazing relationship. Well year and half long, the last six months not so much. I really thought he might be the one this time, he was so different from the rest. Fucking drugs got in the way. Not to mention the stress of just losing the motor in my car, which I had just bought from a used lot about 4 months before. I was proud, because it was the first car I had actually got on my own. Didn't last long though, was warned too late it was a shady dealership. I had just tripled my rent by moving out of my ex's, and of course, chose those wrong insurance plan. So I was screwed. So onto the bus I went. I hated it, getting up two hours earlier just to make it to work on time, and getting home two hours later just to go to bed, wake up, and repeat. I became bitter and resentful toward life. I felt like I got the short end of the stick. It was the last day of work that week, I was exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally. I didn't know if I could take it. “Maybe I should just relapse too…” I thought. At least I could feel numb inside instead of just dead. I was sitting on the Trax when that thought crossed my mind, headphones blasting, trying to tune out the rest of the world. That's when she got on, and came and sat across from me. She had short shoulder length brown hair, it was dirty and ratted. She was wearing a torn sundress, I believe it was sky blue. One strap falling off her shoulder. Held securely between both hands was a small plastic cup, the kind you get from a gas station. And in it was a single daisy. I looked down at her feet, she was wearing two different shoes, both obviously way too small. So small she had to push the backs down just for them to fit. I noticed the people around me glaring at her with disgust. And suddenly I felt a part of me start to judge her too for how she looked, and I wanted to criticize her for not taking better care of herself. But before I could I just happened to look up and glance at her face, and it shook me inside. There she was, clearly homeless and un-showered. Mismatched shoes, and a yard picked flower in a cheap plastic cup. What hit me though was her smile. She looked content, dare I say at peace… It would have been more gentle had she used her own palm to slap me in the face. What the fuck was I on about? Was I really being so sorry for myself that I forgot what it feels like to really struggle? Had I become so full of myself and what I was building, that when I lost it all I became bitter , instead of having gratitude for what I did still have? A stable paycheck? A roof? A fridge full of food? Clothing that I was able to buy for myself…? My eyes started to tear, and she looked at me with concern. All I could spit out was, “That's a beautiful flower. “ Her face filled with joy, and she hugged the cup, simply saying “Thank you.” I couldn't stop staring at her shoes. I was wearing a brand new pair I had just got for work, since my old ones started to wear. I looked back and forth at our feet and a giggle escaped me. I was so ridiculous… Right before my stop I started untying the laces of my new black and rose gold Pumas. I slipped them off and asked, “Wanna trade?” She seemed hesitant at first, but when I assured her I had another pair at home, she took them in her hand and slipped them on. They fit. And she was glowing… I held back my tears as my stop came up. I was newly born walking in the mismatched, too small shoes. Yet, for a moment, when I noticed the people around me starting, I almost cared. That's when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, and there she was, handing me her daisy. I think a mutual kindness was shared that day. She hurried back on the Trax, and I never saw her again.
By Tressa Rose2 years ago in Psyche
Seen. Top Story - September 2024.
I was sitting there on the step, and she drove up in a big, dusty, red truck. I was surprised when she stepped down and walked right toward me, without even a little hesitation. She didn't look away like most folks -- not even the "look-away" thing they do like they are checking their purse or pocket, or like they see something in the other direction. No, she looked right at me, and smiled, saying "Hello!" like I was someone she knew.
By Leslie Staven2 years ago in Psyche
Finding Worth in a Lonely Corner
It was a warm Saturday afternoon, and the schoolyard was filled with the total energy of excited children and doting parents at the annual fundraising fair. I had arrived to support my youngest daughter, Mary, who was selling homemade cookies with her small group of friends. Mary wasn’t the most popular kid at school, but she had a tight-knit circle that meant the world to her. Watching her laugh and chat with her friends, I felt a sense of joy. Though not in the popular crowd, these girls had each other's backs through thick and thin, weathering the storms of peer pressure and the trials of growing up.
By Anthony Chan2 years ago in Psyche
A Low Gas Meter
I pulled up to the gas station, with my wife in the passenger seat. We were just trying to get home after a long trip in our crowded van. As we pull up, I can't remember who said it, but one of us came upon the horrible realization that our funds were practically empty. We were about 2o miles away from home, and with our low funds, we probably wouldn't make it home.
By Ethan Sutphin 2 years ago in Psyche
Balancing Work and Family: How Working Parents Can Spend Quality Time with Their Children
Professionals with childrearing responsibilities often struggle to juggle work and home lives of their families. Work commitments such as meetings, projects, or daily tasks may hinder them from engaging in meaningful conversations with their offspring. Yet such interactions are cardinal for the healthy growth of any child as well as understanding within themselves. This article offers an insight into how to maximize the time spent with children by parents who work and also help in educating them.
By Ahmet Kıvanç Demirkıran2 years ago in Psyche
The Spangled Duck
"Come on, come on! It's right there... I can almost taste it!" I stand back and watch my daughter at work with a proud little smile. This is the first time we've been to the arcade in ages, but I never tire of watching her eyes light up with delight in a place like this. I suppose that's part of the magic of an arcade; the second you step through the door, you become a little kid again, no matter what your true age is.
By Natalie Gray2 years ago in Psyche
Start Again
Every day is a challenge for me. Six months ago I lost my job due to downsizing to improve profits for the company. There were no redundancy payments for me or the others, we were sacked for "not doing our jobs" but they wouldn't tell us what we hadn't done.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Psyche
