By: Emma Rose Ryan Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of Googling. Ever since I walked out of my last psychiatrist appointment with an Adderall prescription – and four more letters to add to the alphabet soup of acronyms categorizing my mind – my browser history has looked like this: Google search: “ADHD”WebMD: “ADHD: Causes

1000 slow leaks hide deflation until white noised & acceptable. Sleep or hibernation, each morning a mid-winter wakening, as in never, as in not quite twilight, perpetual state of interrupted yawn, of couch-lounge dream and milk-bloated cereal sog of neglect. Hit snooze; stream life, a palmed convenience & #BingeWatch. Hold heart to chest, feel no

We have amazing news! We are now a registered non-profit magazine! Why you may ask?  One reason: we want to give back. We aren’t in this to make loads of money. We just want to sustain and grow this wonderful momentum and that includes helping the beautiful writing and mental health communities who have welcomed

I let a mosquito suck me dry. It started in the most unspectacular way possible. I sat at my desk, as I did most evenings; suspended over an unfinished sentence. I let my hand come to rest at the end of the page after violently scraping my pencil across a line of my own words.

People experience depression differently. Some people have the energy to carry on daily activities while others can’t even manage to get out of bed or home. I’m the latter. I will lie still in bed, or on other surfaces for hours and stare at whatever that is close to me. Things seem enlarged and more

I am jealous of Sleeping Beauty, because she gets to Sleep forever. She can Bypass the dreaded Small Talk that comes with existing. She can Ignore the Social Cues and Vocal Inflections that tell me I am Wrong. She gets to spend her days Living in a fantasy. One where she is the Main Character.

It’s the hottest day in July, but it’s not the sun that’s making me sweat. It’s a man. I’m alone in a park and a grizzled, smoking stranger in a dirty t-shirt is staring at me. He’s shifty. Nervous. Standing in the grass off to my left. Staring when he thinks I’m not looking. Shifting

WE’RE ACCEPTING SUBMISSIONS FROM NOVEMBER 1, 2018 12:00 AM (EST) TO DECEMBER 15, 2018 11:59 PM (EST)! We are looking for insightful and unique personal essays and non-fiction pieces for website publication (1,000 to 2,000). Don’t forget – mental health related! SUBMIT HERE! We are, unfortunately, charging a $6.00 CDN fee to submit. We’re so