1,781 Quotes About Mental-health

I no longer seek those things that help me to heal but for those things that fortify me with the strength required to carry the load fate has set upon my shoulders. Instead of finding a way to forget, find a way to bear the constant remembering. The silence of the wild being one of those elements that reinforce the weathered walls of the soul and mind.

There is no “letting go.” I would dare to take it further and say there is no healing from trauma. For nearly 25 years, I’ve waited to get over the traumas that have amassed across my life. The pursuit of this healing has felt a great deal like a search for God—for something elusive, divine, and that may or may not exist.

Effective communication is the backbone for productivity in all settings...especially in healthcare. Lives depend on this simple act

You must change your life, Rilke said to the young poet. We must heed his advice. We have to understand the world we live in and how our relationships are being shaped by the digital age in order to change our lives, in order to find happiness. Through some simple and not so simple behavioral changes, I believe we can become more useful, more productive, and more independent. We can be truly happy.

Now I know, you can’t change what’s happened to you or hide it, or spin it, or get over it. All you can do is hold it confidently knowing that the mistakes are yours but so too is the wisdom earned along the punishing passage. Suffering is the catalyst for transformation. The wounds don’t define us; how we went about surviving does. Oddity, in this sickened society of medicated despair, is a blessed state.

I think that while I hated being depressed, and I would hate to be depressed again, I found a way to love my depression. I love it because it has forced me to find and cling to joy. I love it because each day I decide, sometimes gamely, and sometimes against the moment's reason, to cleave to the reasons for living and that, I think, is a highly privileged rapture.

Throughout the journey West, I had a raging fever. In a mere two days, we drove 1,925 miles from Connecticut to Colorado Springs, where we chose to break our journey. The further West we went, the sicker I seemed to become. As though the turmoil, rage, and grief within me were tightening their coiled grip, sensing that something was coming that would force it to relinquish their hold.

If I’m not talking myself out of depression, I’m talking myself into depression.

If you’re not talking yourself out of depression, you’re talking yourself into depression.