Quotes About Anxiety

Pegg, cowering in her bedroom, asked her housekeeper to check on the ailing Varick. Then, willing herself in to a frenzy, she tore at her hair and clothes, weeping, her sobs accelerating in volume.

Today Lucy would probably be considered a victim of an obsessive-compulsive behavior disorder, a psychological means of reducing anxieties through the numbing repetition of an activity.

Oh shit, Mary whispered in the dark.

human beings are the only creatures to spend the present driving themselves crazy about the future.

free-floating anxiety," suddenly hit by an anxiety attack brought on by the world news or a friend's accident or simply by living in this curious world.

Somewhere I read that human beings are the only creatures to spend the present driving themselves crazy about the future.

I think anger is often a kind of recycled fear.

Every noise, whether inside or out, had me opening my eyes wide to search out any possible danger until exhaustion finally claimed me and I slept.

But one of the frustrating symptoms of my depression and anxiety is that I had no attention span at all. I would read one paragraph and then realize that I had no idea what I had just read, or I'd accidentally reread the same paragraph, over and over. I was desperate to find articles or research by someone who understood what I was going through.

I have to say it: I didn't have the courage.

The torment of precautions often exceeds the dangers to be avoided.

I start out by believing the worst

Worry is a state of mind based on fear.

Fear is nothing but anticipation of pain, be it physical,emotional,spiritual, or mental

Aggression and depression sound like two different, even polarized phenomena, but they're not. Depression is aggression turned inward, directed against the self, or the imagined, threatening self. A seriously depressed person may look anesthetized to an observer, but the depressed person is never anesthetized to herself. She may wish to be, and she may seek to be with chemical aid, but she cannot truly placate her sneering, jabbering, nested aggressor.

Stress is an ignorant state. It believes that everything is an emergency.

My goal is to write every day. I say it is my ideal. I am careful not to pass judgment or create anxiety if I do not do it. No one lives up to his ideal.

I keep wishing, reflexively, for a glimpse of the future, so I'll know what to do. But I don't kid myself. I have to feel my way forward blindly. I try not to be afraid. Even if you know what's coming, you're never prepared for how it feels.

The whole world is pressing in on me, like a weight on my chest, slowly pushing me down and down. And there's nothing between me and this weight but my flimsy skin. It's not enough. It won't protect me. It doesn't keep anything out. The outside will keep pressing in until my ribs are crushed, and then my organs, my heart and liver and stomach....

I wanted to like people. It worried me that I didn't.

Even Robot Girls get nervous sometimes. -Beatrice Szabo

I couldn't even go to the bathroom alone. My mother or a social worker always went with me.

Harder than waking from a nightmare was trying to wake herself into one.

Being with her was like being backstage during an amateurish, ridiculous play. From in front, the stupid lines and grotesque situations would have made him squirm with annoyance, but because he saw the perspiring stagehands and the wires that held up the tawdry summerhouse with its tangle of paper flowers, he accepted everything and was anxious for it to succeed.