emotions

It's so hard to find the place somewhere in the middle of the best and worst I've felt.

Bodily haste and exertion usually leave our thoughts very much at the mercy of our feelings and imagination.

It was the face of a human being who__ been constructed exclusively of wounds. Not time or history or ambition, nothing but wounds. The face of a person who could probably kill someone without feeling anything whatsoever.

and it was the pretending that might explain how she could smile so brightly while her mind felt nothing - as if, at these times, there existed a disconnection between outer and inner, a shutting off, and the key to her happiness lay in warding off pain, or dodging it, or pushing it into the shape of something else - like shame or anger or even hope.

An awfulness was deep inside me, and I couldn't fight it; forced into submission and taken hostage by it, I could only just lie there, let it wash over me, and let myself be consumed by it. If I cooperate, maybe it won't stay too long; maybe it'll let me go free. But if I fight it, it might stay longer just to spite me. So I decided to let The Feeling inhabit me as long as it desired, while I lay still, cautious not to incite me, secretly hoping it would leave me soon and bother someone else, but outwardly, pretending to be its gracious host. The most discouraging element of what I felt was my inability to understand it. Usually when I was filled with an unpleasant feeling, I could make it go away, or at least tame it, by watching a light-hearted film or reading a good book or listening to a feel good album. But this feeling was different. I knew non of those distractions could rid me of it. But I knew nothing else. I couldn't even describe it. Is this depression? Maybe once you ask someone to describe depression, he can't find the words. Maybe I'm part of the official club now. I imagined myself in a room full of people where someone in the crowd, also suffering from depression, immediately noticed me-as if he detected the scent of his own kind-walked over, and looked into my eyes. He knew that I had The Feeling inside me because he, too, da The Feeling inside him. He didn't ask me to talk about it, because he understood that our type of suffering was ineffable. He only nodded at me, and I nodded back; and then, during our moment of silence, we both shared a sad smile of recognition, knowing that we only had each other in a room filled with people who would never understand us, because they didn't have The Feeling inside them.

Power as a beneficial tool for aspiring achievers is primarily made up into four folds;1. Power to control emotions,2. Power to make right decisions,3. Power to stand against depression,4. Power to excel in innovations.

Dishonoring what we feel is an epidemic that has us self-medicating as a culture and trying to numb ourselves.

The one who sees thought as a thought is the witness to mind and no longer subject to suffering.

The more you engage in any type of emotion or behavior, the greater your desire for it will become.

When you know truly know that God loves you it won't matter when others don't. And when you know truly know that God accepts you it won't matter when others won't.

When you know truly know just how much God loves you it won't matter when others don't and if you know truly know God accepts you it won't matter when others won't

Depression means self-loathing, self-disgust, and the kind of emotional numbness that feels like psychic death.

She was determined to keep her promise of 'no fandom' to her mother. Trouble was, fandom was more than a hobby, it was a support system. Without it, Liv had no one to talk to when she was lonely. She had nothing to look forward to after school, and no outlet for creativity. Liv found herself spiraling back into melancholy. She got up. She went to classes.She came home... And then did it all over again. Sleep became the escape that fandom had once been.

Everything at the moment, my dear, no doubt seems disgusting. I know the mood too well. But being in that mood, Ross, is like being out in the frost. If we do not keep on the move we shall perish.

Even when everything's going your way you can still be sad. Or anxious. Or uncomfortably numb. Because you can't always control your brain or your emotions even when things are perfect.

It was a tried and tested remedy. Go home, take two Panadols and fall into a deep dreamless slumber. The next morning awake in a hazy stupor, go through the daily routine and as soon as all obligations are met and affected parties satisfied, repeat procedure with Panadol. Continue routine for several days, months if necessary_ it all depended on the magnitude of the cut.

Everyone feels depressed, angry or frustrated at times; it__ a crossroads not a dead end.

Running keeps me at a physical peak and sharpens my senses. It makes me touch and see and hear as if for the first time. Through it I get through the first barrier to true emotions, the lack of integration with the body. Into it I escape from the pettiness and triviality of everyday life. And, once inside,stop the daily pendulum perpetually oscillating between distraction and boredom...It is the swing from boredom to anxiety, from depression to worry, that exhausts and defeats us. The sure knowledge that we can be much more than we are frustrates us.