coping

Life presents variables; learning how to cope in order to master, minimize, or tolerate what has come to pass.

Just Another Visit
It was late September when I was surprised by one of his spontaneous visits; I had been practicing hurdles and 200-meter sprints with my track coach after school with my teammates. Some of my friends were smiling and their eyes twinkled as they looked past my shoulders, curious I spun around.
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)3 years ago in Psyche
To Heal
I'm coming to realise now that the hardest part of a childhood filled with mental unrest, hospital stays and therapy, is healing.
By M. Edwards3 years ago in Psyche
The Purpose
As luck would have it I died three days later. “You again, so soon? That’s unexpected. Did you remember to bring a story for me?” I was perplexed. “Why are you surprised? You are God, don’t you know everything? Surely you must have known when we last talked that I would be with you shortly.” “I’m afraid not.” God replied. “It’s that free will thing again. Once that gift was given I lost my ability to see the future of all men. I don’t regret it for a second. Knowing the future isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. There is no surprise that way. Life without surprise is a lot like vanilla ice cream. It’s still good but it’s awfully plain”. I chuckled softly to myself. It seemed that God was as capable of a bad metaphor as I was. For some reason this brought me great comfort. The residual fear I had been feeling at standing dead in the presence of my creator evaporated in an instant. “I don’t have a story per se, but I do have something I’d like to say to you. It’s probably more accurate to say I have some things I’d like to ask you about?”
By Everyday Junglist3 years ago in Psyche
The Purpose
When God revealed himself to me and confirmed that there was a purpose to each persons’ existence I was elated. All of us were put on this earth to accomplish a specific goal. To fulfill our destiny all we need do was complete this God given task in the place and time allotted for us. I had struggled for so many years with the question of meaning in my life but now had been given the ultimate gift, the knowledge that life is not just some random series of chaotic events unfolding around us in space and time over which we have no control. Rather, our fate was predetermined by God. We would spend all of our days constantly striving to complete the objective God had planned for us from the moment of our birth. Nothing was meaningless. Each day we moved closer to fulfilling our true purpose.
By Everyday Junglist3 years ago in Psyche
I Don’t Want To Be Crazy Anymore
Crazy. It’s an ugly word. No doubt, many will chastise me for using it. Let them come. I’m not describing someone else. I’m not describing mental illness. Crazy is how I feel, and no other word comes close.
By Scott Ninneman3 years ago in Psyche
Is anybody out there?
Why do we write? Why do we do anything? What is the point? Does anyone even care? I used to think it mattered. What I did. What I said. What I contributed to society.
By Jennidoll of (jennidoll.inc)3 years ago in Psyche
O, Sweet Solitude
What a lovely surprise to finally discover how unlonely being alone can be. (Ellen Burstyn) In his book Borstal Boy, Brendan Behan gives a stark indication of how unpleasant enforced solitude can be for some. Alone in his cell inside Liverpool’s Walton Jail, Behan hears activity outside; keys jangling and doors being banged shut. He hopes someone will come into his own cell, stating;
By Joe Young3 years ago in Psyche
Grief Is Funny Like That
I never expected him to actually finish anything. He was always leaving. I always picture him with a suitcase in his hand. Sometimes I wonder what he would look like now. When I close my eyes I still see his smile and I swear I could smell him, Well him before the shooting. I dream of him sometimes and he's smiling and walking toward me and then I wake up. I wake up happy then reality sets in. For a long time, I wasn't able to talk about it. Even thinking about his death made me sick to my stomach. Sometimes thinking about it still makes me sick to my stomach almost nine years later. I thought that I would be less traumatized by it after all of these years but I'm not. I'm still that traumatized 17-year-old who just lost her best friend to gun violence. Things can change in a heartbeat. If we didn't walk down that street at that time he would still be here. I would still have my best friend here. But I can't change that. It took me years to stop blaming myself. Somedays I still blame myself or I blame God. Not the actual person who murdered him.
By Nat 3 years ago in Psyche
Being Me
Being Unique & Always “the Other” Born in a refugee camp following WW2 to parents fleeing from Lithuania just ahead of Stalin's army, I have always been the outsider, the foreigner, the stranger. Till 18, I didn’t even qualify for the citizenship of any country. Truly an outsider.
By Vytas Stoskus3 years ago in Psyche
A Day in the Life of Bipolar Disorder: What It’s Like To Live With Mental Illness
Can you relate? I wake up and can’t get out of bed. I feel like a pink hippo is taking a nap on my chest. All I want to do is sleep, but I force myself to get up, anyway. It’s been like this for a few days now. Every morning feels like an impossible battle just to keep going.
By Scott Ninneman3 years ago in Psyche
The Ultimate Wound
We all carry wounds and traumas with us. Each of us has that one, deep soul wound that will inform how we live. The story in our head that makes us miserable, depressed and addicted. Therapy is real trendy right now because we are finally recognizing the unseen pain that is embedded into our humanity.
By Monique3 years ago in Psyche
Live in the Now if Your Mental Health is Suffering
In the time my Bride and I have been together, I’ve learned a lot from her. She’s been a counselor for about 22 years. I’ve picked up a few tips and pointers about mental health struggles. She’s helped many people deal with the challenge of living in the now.
By The Mouthy Renegade Writer3 years ago in Psyche