My anxieties have anxieties.

You are your struggles. You say, “I am an anxious person” rather than “I sometimes feel anxiety.” You identify with your problems, which is likely a huge reason why you can’t overcome them.

One of the few blessings of living in an age of anxiety is that we are forced to become aware of ourselves.

Anxiety is fear of one's self.

We find ourselves in a very difficult time, and I personally find myself becoming more anxious as I step into hospital every day

These days a very melancholic mood has taken hold of me. There is nothing else but my work. My dear ones, I have been well and I have been working and my way of working is changing. For this reason I always feel extremely anxious. I am not content and perhaps I will not (ever) be satisfied with my work, not even for one day. I want to attain works which are more personal and clean.

Anxiety was born in the very same moment as mankind. And since we will never be able to master it, we will have to learn to live with it — just as we have learned to live with storms.

July. — I am anxious, and it soothes me to express myself here. It is like whispering to one's self and listening at the same time.

I am burdened with anxiety. Anxiety for the lamb with his bitter future, anxiety for my own body, and, not least, anxiety for my own soul. You can fool a lot of yourself but you can’t fool the soul. That worrier.

Anxiety is often related to having to perform and act an acceptable role in order to be admitted into relationships.

I would say off the cuff that I am an anxious person. I worry about everything. I need to know everything. I tend to live in a state of anxiety with the feeling that life is some kind of great catastrophe. I feel the desire, or rather the intense need, to do something useful for society, and that is what stimulates me. In every situation I always look for what is positive and beneficial for my fellow citizens. I am interested in study, reflection, philosophy — but always as a dilettante. I also consider myself a dilettante as a painter.

Anxiety and existential anguish are part of everyone's life. My personal experience has been of sad events, such as my father's early death, but these are things that happen to everyone, no matter where he comes from.

Anxiety, the illness of our time, comes primarily from our inability to dwell in the present moment.

An anxiety for being me, forever trapped in myself, floods my whole being without finding a way out, shaping me into tenderness, fear, sorrow and desolation.
An inexplicable surfeit of absurd grief, a sorrow so lonely, so bereft, so metaphysically mine...