[1] Language is a room. Mental health is a room. They are, in many instances, the same room: styled with furniture and picture frames, hand-me-down heirlooms and shelves lined with…
The Talking Cure
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Creative Nonfiction / Essay
The Talking Cure: Love and Sertraline
by Guest Contributor November 10, 2019After feeling anxious for years, first in childhood stomach aches, then in the mid-twenties chest pains, both times with the dread, the worry, the terror, a doctor said to me:…
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In the aftermath of Hurricane Wilma, my best friend and I rode our bikes to CVS, which was closed. We rode to the bank so she could take twenty dollars…
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‘Vaginismus’, now termed ‘Genito-Pelvic Pain or Penetration Disorder’, is the involuntary contraction of the pelvic floor muscles. The tight muscle contractions makes coitus, and gynaecological examinations, difficult or impossible. The cause…
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On April 17th, 2017, the day after Easter, my friend took their father’s gun and went for a walk on the beach in Yachats, Oregon. Friend isn’t the right word.…
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You have to write a book about your family, she said during lunch at the airport chain restaurant where we were waiting out our mutual flight delay. We’d only known…
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Creative Nonfiction / EssayFeatured
The Talking Cure: Naming My Trauma
by Guest Contributor June 11, 2019By the time my husband and I got to the local urgent care clinic, I had been in a steady state of pain for nearly four hours. I gave a…
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i. Dear Doctor— Each morning I unlatch the window to shout the miser magpies from their perch, the sill dips a bit in the clutch of my palm and I…
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My boyfriend bought the bunnies for me on Easter day of my sophomore year in college. It was the sort of ludicrous, stupid, expensive thing he was always doing for…
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Creative Nonfiction / EssayFeatured
The Talking Cure: Of Zombies, Wolves, Girls, and Holes
by Guest Contributor February 25, 2019I recently shared an illustration on Facebook from the comic strip Verbal Vomit by the brilliant Hannah Hillam. In the drawing, there are two images—one marked: “Ten Years Ago”…
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Creative Nonfiction / Essay
The Talking Cure: We’ve Always Been Weeping and Searching for the Dead
by Guest Contributor February 11, 2019I remember when my mother called for me from outside. I was seven years old. I remember her voice had a high pitched strain that I had only recently begun…
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Creative Nonfiction / EssayFeatured
The Talking Cure: Crazy Love
by Guest Contributor January 28, 2019In the first day of the New Year, a rare chill took hold of the desert, shivering cacti sucked into themselves, gunmetal sky swollen with rain. I spent the day horizontal,…
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The written word has a way of reintroducing me to myself – of locating me in my hiding spot, of throwing back the covers. Does it do the same for…