A Quote by Jane McGonigal

Growing up, I was prone to anxiety. — © Jane McGonigal
Growing up, I was prone to anxiety.
Neurotics are anxiety prone, accident prone, and often just prone.
I'm terribly prone to anxiety. I get very depressed and I get very anxious and my anxiety is almost always about my children.
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.
I am not taking a position on any policy, but I do think there is a growing sense of anxiety and even anger in America over the feeling that the game is rigged. And I never had that feeling when I was growing up. Never.
Helpless lust and unreasoning anxiety were just part of growing up.
Mum and Dad were very much friends and up for life. There was no anxiety for anything when I was growing up; they just taught me to be me.
Mum and dad were very much friends, and up to life. There was no anxiety for anything when I was growing up, they just taught me to be me.
The creative process is often wrapped up in bottomless anxiety, and when the world applauds the product of that process, it soothes the anxiety. Briefly. Then the anxiety returns and even intensifies.
Writing a book is the most difficult, anxiety-prone aspect of my life because the words that I put on paper are very serious to me.
When I was growing up, I didn't know of anybody who was trans. There was always, like, this shame, anxiety thing around all of that, even if I wasn't actively expressing it.
Growing up in Vancouver in the 1950s, I was often capricious and temperamental, quick to laugh, even quicker to feel despair, prone to flailing my arms, pouting and crying when things didn't go my way, or I thought something was unfair, or I was bullied by my sisters.
I'm growing fonder of my staff; I'm growing dimmer in the eyes; I'm growing fainter in my laugh; I'm growing deeper in my sighs; I'm growing careless of my dress; I'm growing frugal of my gold; I'm growing wise; I'm growing yes, I'm growing old!
I did not write about that kind of insecurity and anxiety between myself and my brothers, because my father was the dominant male figure as I was growing up in that home.
I went through a lot of abuse and a lot of really difficult things growing up - depression, anxiety, attempted suicide.
I like my coffee like I like my romantic partners: cold and bitter and prone to giving me anxiety attacks.
In my past 20 years of interaction with girls across the world I have found that girls live in fear and anxiety while growing up.
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