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Growing up, I was prone to anxiety.

When I was younger, I was always obsessed with nails.

I had massive anxiety as a child. I was in therapy. From 8 to 10, I was borderline agora-phobic. I could not leave my mom's side. I don't really have panic attacks anymore, but I had really bad anxiety.

I wake up every morning with the worst anxiety. I don't know why. I have, like, a problem.

Well I was an asthmatic child. So that for most of my childhood I was in bed. Bedridden.

I couldn't sleep for nights on end, as my brain felt like there were thoughts colliding within it; I obsessed over small details, from saving pennies and polishing each one of them to washing my clothing over and over in the washing machine.

The only way I could relax was when I was with my children.

I have these long nails, but I literally do nothing to them! The thought of filing my nails drives me insane.

I was kind of an unhappy kid. I always felt like a cynical New Yorker trapped in a little kid's body. I started to get some pretty bad anxiety disorders around puberty, which totally did not work with growing up a mile away from the beach. I started cutting my own hair.

I have, since the age of about 2, been a twitchy bundle of phobias, fears, and neuroses. And I have, since the age of 10, when I was first taken to a mental hospital for evaluation and then referred to a psychiatrist for treatment, tried in various ways to overcome my anxiety.