Francis Grace
Bio
21 years old, raising awareness about mental health.
Stories (4/0)
I'm Not Sorry
It's December 28, 2018. On the other side of the window there is snow gracefully floating to the ground—a relaxing visual as I sit on a love-seat alone—except I know that I'm not alone, that's just what I feel: isolated. I'm feeling a lot of other things as well: depressed, confused, invalid, disgusting, annoying, and somehow, I'm also feeling numb. You are sitting next to me, my love. You put your arm around my frail body and rub my shoulder. I know that you're rubbing my shoulder because I can see, out of my right eye's peripheral vision, your hand wrinkling my sweater as it moves up and down on my arm. I'm freezing and shaking from the cold, but my chest and belly feel like they're on fire and my face starts turning red. My heart is beating that strange way it does when I'm having a panic attack, except this time every single beat is pounded into the back of my spine, and no matter how calmly and flatly I lay on the ground, it persists. I never have any idea how long this will last, and as of right now, I haven't found many ways to cope with this experience. I have no idea how to explain it in the moment, so it's difficult for me to find a way out when I don't even know where I am. That is why I am writing this letter to you, my love.
By Francis Grace5 years ago in Humans
- Top Story - April 2018
Therapy Isn't SelfishTop Story - April 2018
Recently, someone boldly announced that therapy was senseless in that it was simply a time where the patient got to talk about themselves for an hour. They went on to imply that this was a selfish act by saying things like, "If you're a person that needs to pay someone to listen to you talk about yourself for an hour... *shrugs* that just seems weird and unnecessary." I didn't know what to say...so I didn't say anything, and then I felt even worse.
By Francis Grace6 years ago in Psyche
Dating Someone Who Self-Harms
She takes notes on her skin with a knife—notes on how to feel, notes on how to be normal, notes on how to stop taking bloody notes. She writes in her own language things like, "What is wrong with me?" "Why are you like this?" "You're making this about you again." She believes these words, because how could you deny them when they are being said to you consistently?
By Francis Grace6 years ago in Psyche
Abnormal
My knuckles are itchy and my chest is tight. I'm walking up stairs behind a line of people—some friends, and some strangers. It's going to be fine I think as I'm noticing my breathing grow shallow and rapid. I focus on my breathing and make sure that I have three deep breaths every once in a while. This time will be different, and I will be OK—I will be normal tonight.
By Francis Grace6 years ago in Psyche