Quotes About Mental health

I thought it would be easy, lying in the tub and seeing the redness flower from my wrists, flush after flush through the clear water, till I sank to sleep under a surface gaudy as poppies.

I wanted to tell her that if only something were wrong with my body it would be fine, I would rather have anything wrong with my body than something wrong with my head

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream.

I need someone real, who will be right for me now, here, and soon. Until then I'm lost. I think I am mad at times.

The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind cooly as a tree or a flower.

I knew you'd decide to be all right again." STARLET

Doctor Nolan had said, quite bluntly, that a lot of people would treat me gingerly, or even avoid me, like a leper with a warning bell. My mother's face floated to mind, a pale, reproachful moon, at her last and first visit to the asylum since my twentieth birthday. A daughter in an asylum! I had done that to her. Still, she had obviously decided to forgive me.

But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenceless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at.

I tried to think what I had loved knives for, but my mind slipped from the noose of the thought and swung, like a bird, in the centre of empty air.

conversing, in low tones, with the asylum librarian, an alumna

I would rather have anything wrong with my body than something wrong with my head, but the idea seemed so involved and wearisome that I didn't say anything.

After each wave it would fade away and leave me limp as a wet leaf and shivering all over and then I would feel it rising up in me again, and the glittering white torture-chamber tiles under my feet and over my head and on all four sides closed in and squeezed me to pieces.

Det må være en god del ting et varmt bad ikke kurerer, men jeg vet ikke om mange av dem. Hver gang jeg føler meg trist fordi jeg skal dø, eller så nervøs at jeg ikke får sove, eller forelsket i noen jeg ikke kommer til å se på en uke, gir jeg etter til et visst punkt, og så sier jeg; Jeg går og tar et varmt bad.

I'm doped and thick from my last sleeping pill.

I wanted to tell her that if only something were wrong with my body it would be fine, I would rather have anything wrong with my body than wrong with my head, but the idea seemed so wrong and wearisome that I didn't say anything. I only burrowed down further in the bed.

I tried to think what I had loved knives for, but my mind slipped from the noose of the thought and swung, like a bird, in the center of empty air.

because wherever I sat, on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok, I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.

If Mrs. Guinea had given me a ticket to Europe, or a round-the-world cruise, it wouldn't have made one scrap of difference to me, because whenever I sat--on the deck of a ship or at a street cafe in Paris or Bangkok-- I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.

I thought I would swim out until I was too tired to swim back. As I paddled on, my heartbeat boomed like a dull motor in my ears. I am I am I am.

Wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stweing in my own sour air.

Immagino che sarò sempre molto vulnerabile, lievemente paranoica. Ma sono anche maledettamente robusta e resistente. E felice come una pasqua.

Preferiría que algo funcionara mal en mi cuerpo a que funcionara mal en mi cabeza, pero la idea parecía tan complicada que no dije nada

El silencio me deprimía. No era realmente el silencio. Era mi propio silencio.

Donde quiera que estuviera sentada estaría sentada bajo la misma campana de cristal, agitándome en mi propio aire viciado