panic attacks
Sudden periods of intense fear. But remember, you're not alone.
Broken Pieces
It's been almost three months. I tried to fall for you slowly, easily, so I could protect my heart. Those attempts failed. You are so kind, considerate, and empathetic. I felt that when you looked at me, you saw me all the way to my soul. The physical attraction was immediate and intense. Two lost and broken souls just trying to find their way home. The first time I looked into your sky-blue eyes, I saw sadness, I saw exhaustion, and the vast emptiness that comes from just giving up. However, in each other, we found hope. I could see that spark of hope in your eyes. That you wanted this to be real just as much as I did, something to hold onto, something true, something that could last a lifetime and not just until things got too hard. We moved in together pretty quickly due to life and circumstances. Honestly, we needed each other to hold on to at night. I know now that your life has been riddled with demons, pain, depression, anxiety, ptsd and so many triggers from your past. You have never been given the right mental tools to move through your pain and torment. So, you have just remained silent and swallowed your pain. No one should have to hold that much pain alone. It has been a task trying to help you, but also hold space for my own well-being, but I want you to know that you are worth it to me. You are not too broken and will never be too broken. I want to show you that I can hold space for both your mental health and my own. We both have so much going on in our minds, and we both try to hold each other up as best we can. When your demons come out to play, I try to slay them or at least make them shut the fuck up, and you do the same for me. We can hold each other, cry, scream at the world, go break shit together, or just sit in silence. I'm trying to learn what you need in your moments of mental health crisis, and I can tell you're trying to learn what I need as well. Have you ever heard of the term "hot mess"? That describes us perfectly. But we are perfectly imperfect. I am your Juliet, and you are my Romeo, as cheesy as that sounds. I swear we're going to be okay. I swear we're going to get healthy together. I've already done some work myself, but we are a team now, and we have to work together. I'm not leaving you. Where you go, I go, together forever. Mental health is a cruel mistress that holds no prisioners. You are such a beautiful soul that has come into my life, and you've helped me in so many ways. You help add structure in my life, you help with my daughter, you're my friend I can talk through my day and emotions with, my partner I can figure out life with, my lover, when I can't breathe because of a panic attack, you hold me and talk me through it. I wouldn't go back to being alone. I want you, all of you, even the broken pieces, because you take me and my broken pieces. Life is full of broken pieces, but what makes it better is to find that special someone who will hold both you and your broken pieces and still say I love you no matter what.
By Lindsey Altomabout 8 hours ago in Psyche
Anxiety After Hospitalization: When Medical Treatment Leaves Emotional Scars
As the title of this article implies; the emotional effects of a hospital stay (even a "short" stay) can linger - even if the relevant medical procedures were an overwhelming success. The emotional effects may not manifest immediately upon discharge, but rather show up in an individuals psyche weeks, months or even years after being discharged from hospital. If you ever find yourself needing an operation (whether you end up being put to sleep, or you can remain awake during such); people (myself included) have requested the relevant medical staff involved to only speak kind words (no laughter at and no gossip) to and about one another, including their colleagues outside of the operating room at the time of your operation/surgery. Even if you happen to be unconscious with general anaesthesia; your mind still takes in everything that is going on in the operating room/theatre at the time. And only focus on the well of positivity in general such as good news stories, and investments going well for example. As you would have gathered by now, this article is part-memoir, part-wisdom. I wish to thank the entire team in the operating room for respecting this wish of mine, and for being so caring.
By Justine Crowley5 days ago in Psyche
When Reflection Feels Like Accomplishment
There is a subtle experience many people recognize but struggle to name: the feeling of having done something meaningful without having actually changed anything. It often follows long periods of thinking, talking, organizing, or refining ideas. The mind feels clearer. Tension feels reduced. There is a sense of closure or completion. And yet, when examined closely, nothing in the external world has moved. No decision has been enacted. No behavior has shifted. No responsibility has been embodied. What changed was internal orientation, not external reality.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast6 days ago in Psyche
Understanding Trauma is not About the Past…
"You cannot heal from trauma by understanding things intellectually"… Gabor Mate, Ennea Summit 2026. I've been lucky to come across a free 90 mins Webinar with Dr. Gabor Mate for the past three days. Available here: https://www.tylerzach.com/mh26/enneasummit
By Elizabeth Woods6 days ago in Psyche
How to Get Over Social Anxiety?
Dealing with social anxiety can be tiring! You might really want to talk to other people, have an open conversation, and experience the fun in socialising, but this might lead you to overthink the situation before it actually happens, avoiding participating in the conversation or playing the moments again and again in your head, even after they have passed! This isn't just 'shy' behaviour; it is also feeling 'afraid' of being judged, to be embarrassed, or misinterpreted. The weight of social anxiety can make normal occasions feel larger than life.
By Anxiety Offline9 days ago in Psyche
How I Saved My Sleeping Family from Suffocating to Death
It was late September, and I had moved up to senior school. I was only just eleven and wouldn’t be twelve until the far end of June. I had spent the summer holidays carefree, happy, and getting prepared for my new ‘big’ school, and my twin and I were both ecstatic to leave junior school far behind us.
By Chantal Christie Weiss12 days ago in Psyche
