Quotes About Anxiety

And I pressed send, realizing, as it whooshed into the ether, that I had now condemned myself to unknown hours of e-mail-related anxiety while I waited for him to respond

Um, Jess?" "Not now, Nicky." The police car was pulling over, too. Tanzie's palms had begun to sweat. *It will all be fine.* "I guess this isn't the time to tell you I brought my stash with me.

I'm dreading it," says Corinne. "Somehow thirty-one sounds like you might only be just past thirty, still almost technically in your twenties. Thirty-two sounds ominously close to thirty-five.

Are you claustrophobic?" His face, inches from mine, was etched with worry. "I could see you didn't want to go in. I just... I just thought you were being—" I shut my eyes. "I just want to go now." "Hold on to my hand. We'll go out." He knew the maze backward, he told me as we walked, his voice calm, reassuring. I entwined my fingers with his and felt the warmth of his hand as something comforting.

No two months had ever left me feeling more inadequate. I was lonely almost all the time. I hated not knowing where I was going to sleep each night, was permanently anxious about train timetables and currency, found it difficult to make friends when I didn't trust anyone I met. And what could I say about myself, anyway? When people asked me, I could give them only the most cursory details. All the stuff that was important or interesting about me was what I couldn't share.

I'd felt flat all day, struggling with the stasis that comes from not having a job to go to, worries about how I was going to pay my bills, and being trapped in an apartment with someone else who similarly had nowhere to go and I was unwilling to leave by herself.

He had told her a few weeks ago that being this age was like walking among snipers, that people he cared about were being picked off and there was nothing you could do and no way of telling who was next.

I was good at keeping secrets from my parents (it's one of the things we learn while growing up, after all)—but coping with the anxiety by myself was something else entirely.

wondering if there was any way I could get to my car without passing him, but it was hopeless.

what has happened to him—and to Andrea—has left her feeling like the earth can shift under your feet without a moment's notice so that nothing in the world, no happiness, feels secure.

His stomach, a packed elevator, began a slow descent toward his feet.

but I told myself firmly that it was just a feeling, the echo of an old anxiety.

Even thinking about heading up there again made my heart thump harder; it took nothing for me to recall that sense of the world disappearing from beneath me, like a rug pulled from under my feet.

If I let myself love you, it would consume me. There would be nothing but you. I would be constantly afraid that you might change your mind. And then, if you did, I would die.

It was nice to feel something other than anxiety, or mute fury, the twin emotions that seemed to make up so much of my daily life.

My stomach turned somersaults.

I stared at the folder in front of me. It felt like I was about to sit an exam I hadn't prepared for.

slept at all. I didn't want to think how it would feel, to lie trapped in a bed you couldn't get out of with only dark thoughts to keep you company through the small hours.

I have panicked unnecessarily in all four corners of the globe.

At the end of our conversation she (Martha Stout) turned to address you, the reader. She said if you're beginning to feel worried that you may be a psychopath, if you recognize some of those traits in yourself, if you're feeling a creeping anxiety about it, that means you are not one.

AMBIENT FEAR: background anxiety of everyday life

I'm on the verge of a total breakdown. Sciatica. Taxes. Cars. Fleas, possibly. It's an absurd existence.

By clarifying what remains, you also gain an understanding of what is left in your life once you discard these negative items. What is left is what is most important to you. In reality, you may not be able to "discard" the unpleasant or negative things you've thrown in your mental wastebasket. But you can begin to think about ways your relationship to those items, issues, or people might change for the better to improve your self-esteem and reduce your anxiety.

Anxiety does not exist to control you. You exist to control it.