Best 1014 quotes in «mental health quotes» category

We're saying the story doesn't end here, that the air in your lungs is there for a reason.

We speak about losing our minds as if it is a bad thing. I say, lose your mind. Do it purposefully. Find out who you really are beyond your thoughts and beliefs. Lose your mind, find your soul.

We were taught to share at the expense of our own well-being. We came to associate self-care and self-love with selfishness.

What brought you here isn't your fault. We human beings have to live each day to its fullest and do our best in whatever environment we find ourselves in. There's no need to feel any shame just because your "fullest" and "best" look different from those of others.

What does your anxiety do? It does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, but it empties today of its strength. It does not make you escape the evil; it makes you unfit to cope with it if it comes.

What do you fear when you fear everything? Time passing and not passing. Death and life. I could say my lungs never filled with enough air, no matter how many puffs of my inhaler I took. Or that my thoughts moved too quickly to complete, severed by a perpetual vigilance. But even to say this would abet the lie that terror can be described, when anyone who's ever known it knows that it has no components but is instead everywhere inside you all the time, until you recognize yourself only by the tensions that string one minute to the next. And yet I keep lying, by describing, because how else can I avoid this second, and the one after it? This being the condition itself: the relentless need to escape a moment that never ends.

What do you want to do with this? she whispered tightly. Honestly? I intoned. Burn it.

What good is your reality, when justice fails and dishonesty is glossed over and the ones who keep faith suffer .... What good is your reality then?" " .... I never promised you a rose garden. I never promised you perfect justice .... and I never promised you peace or happiness .... The only reality I offer is challenge, and being well is being free to accept it or not at whatever level you are capable. I never promise lies, and the rose-garden world of perfection is a lie...and a bore, too!

What happens is my mind starts to go in circles, thinking and thinking, and then I can't sleep. And once a couple of days go by, if you haven't slept, you start to get sick. You can't eat. You start to cry. It just feeds on itself.

What goes on in our heads solely determines the level at which we function in society, our physical health, and the degree of our mental and emotional stability and maturity.

What if fighting was no longer your first answer but change is?

What I learned from that intensely educational period of my life is that one kind of misfit is the person who suffers abuse or trauma and doesn't transcend it in the socially hoped-for way. We take a wrong turn or go deeper down. That's often looked at like a failure, but sometimes I wonder. I've learned things by taking the wrong turn or going down deeper that I could not have learned any other way.

What is the date? What is the time? … Great, that’s what Now is. And every second, your ‘Now’ changes. Because all we have is Now. We are continuously living in the Now. Not yesterday, not tomorrow, but Now. Today. The present. And I need you to live in it. To truly appreciate it. To breathe and feel yourself breathing.

What Love Are You That Causes Sorrow? Love is joy; It is not supposed to hurt; Then why pain Is part of it? Love is delight; It is not supposed to harm; Then why hate Is part of it? What joy are you That causes pain? What delight are you That causes hate? What love are you That causes sorrow?

What people never understand is that depression isn't about the outside; it's about the inside. Something inside me is wrong. Sure, there are things in my life that make me feel alone, but nothing makes me feel more isolated and terrified than my own voice inside my head.

What's a triumph is that you woke up this morning and decided to live. That's a triumph.

What people don't understand about depression is how much it hurts. It's like your brain is convinced that it's dying and produces an acid that eats away at you from the inside, until all that's less is a scary hollowness. Your mind fills with dark thoughts; you become convinced that your friends secretly hate you, you're worthless, and then there's no hope. I never got so low as to consider ending it all, but I understand how that can happen to some people. Depression simply hurts too much.

What people never understand is that depression isn't about the outside; it's about the inside.

What still frightens me is that society is fickle. There was a time when nobody believed in the reality of abuse, and now it seems that just about everyone does, and yet, I realize we could still move backwards. It is important to stay firm: It took many years for the truth about sexual abuse to come to the fore. It is still fragile, and must be constantly nourished by research, reflection and above all, listening with empathy and an open heart to the stories of people who have been the victims of child abuse in its many forms and are now survivors. They have much to teach.

What's the difference between sanity and madness anyway? We all play headgames with ourselves. We all have baggage. We all cope somehow. I'm not sure if I'm mad or sane. I mean, I hold my life together, I pay my bills, I raise my kids. But the world is so polarized and bizarre now that for some people, none of these these things matter if they're not wearing the right shoes or don't have the right credit score or a fancy family car. Some people think the most important things to worry about are handbags and tan lines. Meanwhile, war and crime and poverty unfold all around us, and we ignore it. In that environment, how can we even begin to talk about sanity and madness?

What super powers are hiding behind your insanities?

What’s more insane? Hearing imaginary voices? Or not hearing the real ones?

What was wrong with me? Why could I not just flip the switch and see all the brightness ahead if only I chose the correct path? Or rather, why could I see the correct path but not choose to tread upon it?

When are we going to stop being afraid to push for change and begin putting into action the things we have discussed for centuries? Mental health cannot wait any longer. Lets get to work!

When a client enters therapy with a prior diagnosis, it might be difficult for the therapist to think outside of the box presented. One reason a dissociative individual might have several different diagnoses, however, is that as different parts present, they may also be presenting with diagnostic issues that are different from the host. Such differences especially make sense given the nature of DID.

When anxiety gets out-of-control, it can create a nasty feedback loop that keeps us trapped in our heads, thinking and worrying about “what if…, what if…, what if…

When anxiety is in balance, it helps us to think ahead to the future, make plans, and get organized.

When emotions are long held and extremely complex, it sometimes takes years for them to enter fully into awareness.

When emotions are expressed...all systems are united and made whole. When emotions are repressed, denied, not allowed to be whatever they may be, our network pathways get blocked, stopping the flow of the vital feel-good, unifying chemicals that run both our biology and our behavior.

When our past wounds get reactivated over and over again in our lives, they can throw our emotions seriously out of balance.

When looking at triggers for mental health problems, therapists often identify an intense change in someone’s life as a major factor.

When I came to you A butterfly came too And feelings started anew... ...Do you remember it? But most of all: Do you believe in signs?

When it comes to our minds, awareness is very often the solution itself.

When I was cooking I enjoyed a sense of being ‘out’ of myself. The action of dicing vegetables and warming oil made my hands tingle and my thoughts switch to a different hemisphere, right brain rather than left, or left rather than right. In my mind there were many rooms and, just as I still got lost in the labyrinth of corridors at college, I often found myself lost, with a sense of déjà vu, in some obscure part of my cerebral cortex, the part of the brain that plays a key role in perceptual awareness, attention and memory. Everything I had lived through or imagined or dreamed appeared to have been backed up on a video clip and then scattered among those alien rooms. I could stumble into any number of scenes, from the horrifically sexual, horror-movie sequences that were crude and painful, to visualizing Grandpa polishing his shoes.

When someone says you've changed, it's because you are no longer willing to live your life their way

When someone needs something in order to feel better, that something returns him love.

When someone needs something in order to feel better, that something returns her love.

When sleep came, I would dream bad dreams. Not the baby and the big man with a cigarette-lighter dream. Another dream. The castle dream. A little girl of about six who looks -like me, but isn’t me, is happy as she steps out of the car with her daddy. They enter the castle and go down the steps to the dungeon where people move like shadows in the glow of burning candles. There are carpets and funny pictures on the walls. Some of the people wear hoods and robes. Sometimes they chant in droning voices that make the little girl afraid. There are other children, some of them without any clothes on. There is an altar like the altar in nearby St Mildred’s Church. The children take turns lying on that altar so the people, mostly men, but a few women, can kiss and lick their private parts. The daddy holds the hand of the little girl tightly. She looks up at him and he smiles. The little girl likes going out with her daddy. I did want to tell Dr Purvis these dreams but I didn’t want her to think I was crazy, and so kept them to myself. The psychiatrist was wiser than I appreciated at the time; sixteen-year-olds imagine they are cleverer than they really are. Dr Purvis knew I had suffered psychological damage as a child, that’s why she kept making a fresh appointment week after week. But I was unable to give her the tools and clues to find out exactly what had happened.

When we are told what is healthy we are being told what is right to think and feel. When we are told what is mentally ill we are being told what ideas, behaviour, and fantasies are wrong. [...] The avenues of escape are blocked by the professioal abuse of pathologizing. To refuse the mental health approach confirms one's 'sickness'. One needs 'therapy', [...] How can we take back therapy [...] from a system which must find illness in order to promote health and which, in order to increase the range of its helping, is obliged to extend the area of sickness. Ever deeper pockets of pathology to be analyzed, ever earlier traumata: primal, prenatal, into my astral body; ever more people into the ritual: the family, the office force, community mental health, analysis for everyone. [...] Its practice may differ [...] but the premise is the same. The work of making soul requires professional help. Soul-making has become restricted by therapy and to therapy. And psychopathology has become restricted to therapy's negative definition of it, reduced to its role in the therapy game.

When you are depressed you feel alone, and that no one is going through quite what you are going through. You are so scared of appearing in any way mad you internalise everything, and you are so scared that people will alienate you further you clam up and don’t speak about it, which is a shame, as speaking about it helps.

When you grow up in a home where dysfunction renders you invisible and silent, it can foster deep rage to come to school where this dysfunction is perpetuated by adult after adult who demands that you sit down, be quiet, and listen to what we have to say.

When you get mentally free, you are free. The rest is just geography!

When your mind is in a dark place it is difficult not to think in shadows.

When your heart cries because it wants to be free, But your mind feels as though it is stuck in cement. This is the reality of those who suffer depression and mental health issues.

When your heart cries because it wants to be free, But your mind feels as though it is stuck in concrete. This is the reality of those who suffer depression and mental health issues.

When you suspect that a person has gotten to the point of , “ I can’t take it anymore” with evidence of self-limiting thoughts and self-harm actions, please by all the legitimate means available to you, as a care giver, seek professional help and restraint the person. Of course, they would say they are alright and all that… but if your instincts says, they are not, please keep a close watch!

While toxic food is bad for your health and well-being, so are negative and unethical people.

Withdrawing and shutting down in response to life is just another way of getting triggered, and it is no more mature or healthy than emotionally over-reacting.

Who has not been, or is not to be mad in some lonely hour of life? Who is quite safe from the trembling of the balance?

Why did I allow the abuse to continue? Even as a teenager? I didn’t. Something that had been plaguing me for years now made sense. It was like the answer to a terrible secret. The thing is, it wasn’t me in my bed, it was Shirley who lay the wondering if that man was going to come to her room, pull back the cover and push his penis into her waiting mouth it was Shirley. I remembered watching her, a skinny little thing with no breasts and a dark resentful expression. She was angry. She didn’t want this man in her room doing the things he did, but she didn’t know how to stop it. He didn’t beat her, he didn’t threaten her. He just looked at her with black hypnotic eyes and she lay back with her legs apart thinking about nothing at all. And where was I? I stood to one side, or hovered overhead just below the ceiling, or rode on a magic carpet. I held my breath and watched my father pushing up and down inside Shirley’s skinny body.