A person who suffers from severe locomotor anxiety finds himself in an almost permanent state of mental tension. He wakes in the morning with the anxious expectation of having to go out somewhere in the course of the day.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I wake up every morning with the worst anxiety. I don't know why. I have, like, a problem.
I wake up most days with a vague feeling of doom - 'Dear God. Here I am again.' Then, when I read about politicians in the newspaper, the vengefulness starts. By mid-morning, the anxiety is kicking in.
I think the thing I fear most in life is waking up one day and not feeling challenge - feeling ambivalent or glib about what I have to do that day.
My brain is so anxiety-prone, like a pinball machine. If I don't get up in the morning and focus my thinking, my breathing, and my being for about 12 minutes, I'm just a screwball all day long.
There's a constant anxiety that comes from having an innate sense of self, yet existing within a homogenised, aspirational culture.
Practically everybody knows what it's like to feel anxious, worried, nervous, afraid, uptight, or panicky. Often, anxiety is just a nuisance, but sometimes it can cripple you and prevent you from doing what you really want with your life. But I have some great news for you: You can change the way you feel.
Anxiety is part of creativity, the need to get something out, the need to be rid of something or to get in touch with something within.
In sharp contrast to the idea that this stage of life is enviable, we hear high levels of anxiety about getting old, anxieties about health, mobility, access to facilities, simple routine care and attention.
Anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strength.
There are moments when all anxiety and stated toil are becalmed in the infinite leisure and repose of nature.