Top Stories
Stories in Psyche that you'll love, handpicked by our team.
Keeping the Ticket. Top Story - September 2024.
With the ticket in my hand, it felt like a diamond album. He had given it to me. Just right there with his medium brown hand into mine. I knew this was his only ticket and that he wouldn’t be able to go to Firefly. Just to grasp the ticket made me remember him forever. This was 2013. The festival would rise and swell with the rhythms and vibrations of the various bands and performers.
By Skyler Saunders2 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
Diary of an Auto-Immune Survivalist. Top Story - August 2024.
Staring at the Midmark Ritter 204, the examination bed called to me. I craved its soft comfort and embrace. That pristine, crisp paper sheet of protective hygienic covering was what prevented me from making myself comfortable. I yearned to lie my body upon that tan leather table and relax my muscles and close my eyes, if only for a moment. The bed may as well have been encased in glass. The white parchment crumpled at the slightest touch, and lying upon it would crush and tear it to pieces. Disturbing it would be the evidence of the attention-seeking behavior that I was often accused of when seeing a new specialist. That paper stood between me and a few moments of desired rest.
By Chelas Montanye2 years ago in Psyche
Millennials Are Not Lazy . Top Story - July 2024.
Picture this...you are driving your paid off Toyota Camry to home from work, you've put in a hard day's work of pushing papers, you had done your 9-5 working hours and you already know what to expect on Monday. You pull up to your driveway and park in the garage. You get home and dinner is already on the table the smell of fresh baked lasagna, it's your favorite meal. Your wife smiles as she sees you walking through the door, you kiss her and go upstairs and change into your non-work clothes. The children are called downstairs for dinner, and they come pouring down and hug their dad hello. You all sit down for dinner and hear about your wife's day and your children's day. You can't help but smile. Then after dinner, your bill for the mortgage comes in and your roll your eyes, but you pay it anyways, the electric bill is not bad, the gas bill also not bad, so you sit down and pay them off.
By Adrianna M. Braun2 years ago in Psyche
Fighting the tides. Top Story - July 2024.
My left leg eagerly bounces up and down. My heart races, and the sweats come in. I'm not waiting; I'm ready and loaded. Every morning, I wake up in the same state. Every day is taken with the same level of eagerness, mixed with a bit of anxiety, a dash of authoritarianism and a colossal ton of impatience.
By Aathavi Thanges2 years ago in Psyche
I want to grow . Top Story - June 2024.
I want to grow and I’m going to grow. I’m not going to be this version of myself anymore and you won’t know who I become. You won’t talk to her, or be by her side as she goes through life— you won’t know her. Her heart won’t even remember the small moments that’ve clung to it for so long. I’ll watch her embrace a new life that has nothing to do with you, and there won’t be a space waiting like there has been for far too long.
By Aathavi Thanges2 years ago in Psyche
Loud Silence. Top Story - June 2024.
My life is somewhat stressful right now. Actually, my husband and I are somewhat stressed right now. With the usual stresses of work, finances, and life, my mother-in-law has terminal cancer and is fading fast. At the time of this writing, she is stable, and we have help from cousins to see her, spend time with her, and help with her care.
By J. Delaney-Howe2 years ago in Psyche
The Imposter. Top Story - June 2024. Content Warning.
May 21, 2024 - from my notes app I noticed something as I read the comments on my most recent Top Story. It is easier to type a "thank you" in response to all the wonderful comments, especially when you want to say "you don't believe it." A can of worms those words are, one most people would be more interested in burying deep into the ground. The thing about that is the worms can always make their way to the surface. So here it is.
By Alexandria Stanwyck2 years ago in Psyche
How a Waiter's Question Unveiled My Hidden Schizophrenia Shame. Top Story - June 2024.
By the time I got to see a psychiatrist for PTSD, I thought a famous magician was stealing my thoughts. I’d tried to barricade my front door to stop people from getting in to kill me. I had no idea who these people were, but I was sure they worked for the government and wanted me dead.
By Leon Macfayden2 years ago in Psyche
$#*£ Resilience. Top Story - May 2024.
I was going to relax this evening. Tune out, hunker down, look after myself. I need it. I am exhausted. Thoroughly used up. And it's only Wednesday. Not even half way through the week. A week that in the UK, is Mental Health Awareness week. I don't know who decides these things, who gets to co-opt a day, a week, a month, and declare it a thing about a thing. But I do know a lot about mental health. I know a lot about mental health AND I know a lot about working for the UK's National Health Service. And so it was with interest that I clicked play on the below video, earlier today. By the time I finished, I was in tears.
By Hannah Moore2 years ago in Psyche
