coping
Life presents variables; learning how to cope in order to master, minimize, or tolerate what has come to pass.
Her Name Is Red
I sat; elbows pressed against the bar letting my eyes trace the rim of my glass. Peering up through my unkempt hair I noticed my reflection in the mirror behind the empty liquor shelves. The mirror was lined with faded green tile, chipped at the edges, aging against the mid-Florida heat. It was late afternoon in this hopeless hotel bar.
By Eljay Feuerman5 years ago in Psyche
Fighting The Lightning
It’s overwhelming, and like nothing you’ve ever felt before when the lightning strikes. You feel all at once light and heavy, light you’re soaring in the sky and being crushed by the deepest depths. There’s a numbness that goes with it. It finds its way to the back of your neck and then radiates down. Your world starts to turn, and you think it’s because of the feeling at your neck but it’s not, by this point you’re already starting to fall. The colours bleed into each other until finally your world goes black.
By obvicious15 years ago in Psyche
A Broken Soul's Battle Cry
The wrecking of my heart will never be undone. The brokenness of soul is a case in which very few of us survive. What does one do when they lose all hope? How are we to carry on as we look around and everything we see is just another shattered memory? Traumatized by loss, sorrow, suffering, abandonment, and loneliness. If the bonds one has created in life or were given along the way are ripped and torn apart, what is the point of attaching oneself to others? Of seeking love and friendships? Of looking forward to the dawn of another day?
By Star Besio-Sharp5 years ago in Psyche
The Figure
The Figure The figure stepped backwards into the dark recesses of the room. The sound of the number, “nineteen,” fading along with it. Andrés blinked over and over, trying to make out what he had just seen. His eyelids began to twitch as he transitioned back and forth from a series of blinks to squinting, to see if anyone was there. He reached out to his girlfriend, but she was not there. It had been a while since she was there next to him and at times he wondered if she was ever there at all. He reached over and turned on the lamp that was sitting on top of his nightstand, next to his bed. The darkness scattered from the room and revealed that, indeed, neither Vero nor anyone else was in the room with him. He replayed the experience in his head. He could only see contours of a human-like shape dissolving from his limited field of view. There was some semblance of light coming in from his window, but it was still dark out and his curtains were not drawn.
By Andrew Jacob5 years ago in Psyche
Entry #2
My poor therapist. Today's session was nearly a straight hour of tears. I began by talking about my apparent inability to keep a relationship. Have a relationship? Be one of two people within a relationship? I don't know. But the overall topic was wondering if I may, in fact, be alone for the rest of my life.
By Hilary Dane5 years ago in Psyche
Her Truth
The following conveys what axis True North is for the writer. This narration is a work of fiction that defines True North, and later transitions to the character forms that prevent hope from entering the axis point thereof. This work is to navigate in black and white, Shawn’s trauma and resilience.
By Chariss Rausaw5 years ago in Psyche
Entry #1
I started therapy. Again. I had a plan. I started searching for a therapist because I already knew that I was going to need one. I was going to be on the ball, ahead of the game, keeping the world on its toes. Being the type of person that does most things on a whim, this was a pretty big deal in my world. I have a goal. A goal to write a book that has been in the making for more than 10 years. Much of the foundation is already written. I have been holding on to it for years. The problem, however, is that much of what I wrote so many years ago is all but forgotten. I know the main points...but the details have faded. I am very aware that as this process starts it is going to bring up some dark thoughts and feelings of hurt and anger. My past attempts of starting this process, I wound up far too afraid to face my past self and put it back into the dusty old box it had been stored in. I don't think I was far enough removed from that version of myself to actually take a look back at her and feel safe. And now here I sit. I do not want to put it off any longer. There has to be a reason that I cannot stop thinking about getting it done, and until I do it, I will never know.
By Hilary Dane5 years ago in Psyche
