Everyone Is Going Through Something
On mental health and professional sports.
On mental health and professional sports.
Forty-eight years after being attacked, a St. Petersburg, Florida woman searches for a way to cope.
To be mentally ill in Ghana.
An NHL goalie on playing with mental illness.
On Robin Williams’s final months.
He drives a Toyota. He eats fro-yo. He takes care of two dozen feral cats.
Editor’s note, 7/27/16: Hinckley has won his freedom and will live full-time with his mother.
The results can be deadly.
They believe that strangers on the street watch them, follow them in vans, whisper as they pass. Their family urge them to seek help. Then they find people online who have experienced the same thing they have.
Patients say it feels like they’re drowning. Doctors say there’s nothing wrong. One thing is certain: medical professionals are finding they may not know as much about the nose as they’d thought.
A journalist goes undercover in an isolated women’s insane asylum.
How $100 million in cuts created chaos in Florida’s mental hospitals.
It wasn’t easy, or cheap.
The death of a pet leads to unique, unsettling mental strains.
"She needed to take a seat. Altogether too much for a morning already, and it was only seven. She collapsed backwards onto the couch and the thing jumped into the lap of her nightgown, settling into the space there, the way Caleb had done as a puppy. She touched it tentatively, and the thing seemed to shiver pleasantly under her hand."
A troubled wife's obsession with her husband's ex.
"I’d been researching generic articles on divorce for a long time, but never found anything that reminded me of Henry’s. They were young, but they weren’t as stupid as he seemed to say. They seemed to have really been in love. The picture he’d shown me was of them on a boat on a lake—a lake we’d been to, one we’d brought a picnic lunch to. They looked so happy and he looked so young, his hair not yet flecked with stray whites and grays."
Middle school and family unease; a mysterious neurological condition.
"I knew something bad was about to happen right before it did. My face heated. All the sound cut out, like a huge furry helmet had been dropped over my skull. The room, it didn’t look right. I’m trying to think how to explain it, but all I can come up with is that the colors separated, kind of fizzed around—the green and red marks on the dry-erase board hovered like insects, the purple of Mr. Franz’s tie pixilated. I had that greasy swirl in my stomach like when you’re about to fart and are still praying there’s a way it will be silent, like when you go to the bathroom after a science lab of intolerable closeness to your intolerably cute lab partner and see that yes, the tingle on your nose was actually a tumor-sized whitehead erupting."
A profile of “America’s most vulnerable comedian.”
A budding scifi writer attempts to overcome his parents' reservations and his own mental issues.
"I stuffed nearly a dozen scripts in my bag before I left my dorm this morning, just in case somebody important happened to be here. It’s been a while since I sent them out. I figured I wouldn’t hear much back from anyone I sent it to. Sending scripts to random slushpiles doesn’t yield great results. I read that on the internet."
A brother visits his sister in a mental institution after an unspoken incident.
"His sister talks about how they are staring at her. How she thinks the fat man in the purple shirt is going to rape her, though she won’t tell Greg if he works there or if he’s a fellow patient. She talks about starving and dying and figuring out how she can get out and sue the place into the ground. He tries to listen, he tries to ask questions, but after fifteen minutes he smiles and nods at her and tries to ignore listening to anything she’s saying. He looks out of the doorway when she looks away from him, and he wonders how many of the people who walk past are just as confused as she is. He imagines that everyone in the common area is just as lost, all of them imagining everyone else is trying something."
An investigtion into higher education’s treatment, and often punishment, of mentally ill students.
For centuries, a little town in Belgium has been treating the mentally ill. Why are its medieval methods so successful?
A profile of Chencho Dorji, Bhutan’s first psychiatrist, who has treated “more than 5,300 depressed, anxious, psychotic and drug-addled” people since 1999.
Inside the women’s ward at Creedmoor Psychiatric Center.
Visiting a lost friend.
A Kenyan runner loses himself in Alaska.