Quotes About Coping

I find that through the sad times, work is what made my continuing, not breaking down, possible. In work, I was always someone else and I subconsciously reveled in that.

You know, I guess I just don't like to talk a lot about sad things. Now you know my flaw. What good does it do to talk about sad things in the past?

My suffering left me sad and gloomy.

They who are sad find somehow sweetness in tears.

I am heartbroken, but I have been heartbroken before, and this might be the best for which I can hope.

Sometimes, when you're sad you don't know what to do, it helps to be angry. But then the tears come back again all the same, and you fall asleep with the salty taste of them on your lips.

There is only one prospect worse than being chained to an intolerable existence: The nightmare of a botched attempt to end it.

I was always depressed growing up. There wasnt a reason for it, I just was. I was sad and morose. I cried a lot, I wrote a lot, and I read a lot; and that was how I dealt with it.

Being a writer means crying over the sad parts, even though you already know it's going to be okay.

Sometimes, when you're so sad you don't know what to do, it helps to be angry.

It's hard to pretend you're OK. Especially when you're all by urself, alone. :'(

While there are memories I wish I could dispose of, sometimes my memories are the only things that keep me sane.

Laughter gives us distance. It allows us to step back from an event, deal with it and then move on.

With the fearful strain that is on me night and day, if I did not laugh I should die.

How is it possible for me to be so miserable and embarrassed and humiliated and beaten an function still talk and smile and concentrate?

Sometimes you gotta laugh through the tears, smile through the pain so that you can live through the sorrow.

If your face is swollen from the severe beatings of life, smile and pretend to be a fat man.

You just have to smile and take it, otherwise it would drive you mad.

Sometimes you have to smile to keep from crying.

To be ill adjusted to a deranged world is not a breakdown.

There are three things that make me want to drink: difficult times, when I want alcohol to either alleviate the pain or allow me to feel it; clear days that make me want to scribble all over the irritating blue sky; and well, waking up in the morning.

Gentlemen, why do you not laugh? With the fearful strain that is upon me day and night, if I did not laugh, I should die.

There is a point when grief exceeds the human capacity to emote, and as a result one is strangely composed-

I have suffered from depression for most of my life. It is an illness.