Book Anxious People Novels & Stories

Bart chuckled under his breath. “Good afternoon, Karen. I can get you something to eat if you’re hungry too?” Bart asked bringing another chair to the table. “I’m fine, thank you…” I replied twiddling my fingers in my lap as I tried to figure out how to ask my questions without giving too much away. Why do I feel anxious like this? Is this normal?

ALWAYS SEEK FOR THE WRONG ONE. It's written in all caps letter. She felt the shiver run down her spine! Shit! MILDA CAME TO work late. The box sender keep lingering on his mind. She suddenly felt like someone's watching her! Oh my god! She looked around and found no one... Maybe she's just being paranoid. Someone's just making fun of you... Thought Milda to herself. She busied herself with working her ass off. She didn't even realized that it's past lunch time! Shit!

The problem was not just the crowd. It was the thoughts. Airports were basically torture for someone like me. Everywhere I looked, someone’s mind was shouting something. [Please don’t let my luggage be overweight.] [Did I lock the front door? I definitely locked it. Right?] [If my flight gets delayed again, I’m going to lose it.] [Why is this line moving so slowly? The person in front of me has been standing there forever.] [Should I buy a sandwich? No, it’s too expensive. But I’m hungry. Okay, maybe just the sandwich.]

I arrive at the café where Alex and I are supposed to meet, twenty minutes early. I couldn’t stay at home; the anxiety and impatience were overwhelming, and I just had to leave as soon as possible. My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest, racing with every beat as I try my hardest not to panic. I've never felt this nervous and scared in my life. Meeting Alex makes me anxious, and I dread the possibility that he might reveal Kai's involvement in Dad's kidnapping.

Keenan’s POV I spend the entire morning talking myself out of asking him and then talking myself back into it and pacing like a man who doesn’t know what to do with his own body. The bookstore is quiet and my hands keep fidgeting straightening stacks that don’t need straightening, sliding books into place that were already perfectly lined up, running my thumb along spines like they might suddenly whisper answers to me and every time the bell over the door rings my heart jumps like I’m waiting for a verdict.

Anne sat on the edge of the small bed in her small room, she felt uneasy, it was like something was wrong but she could not figure it out yet. She had just gotten back from work and she was tired but the way she was feeling, overshadowed the tiredness. She began to bite her nails and tap her feet continuously on the rug in her room, while the fingers on her other hand kept tapping her knee at the same time. This, she always did whenever she was anxious and needed to figure her thoughts out.

The gesture felt exposed, dangerous, and I dropped my arm quickly, breath shallow. You’re being paranoid, I told myself. But when I left the bookstore and headed home using a different route, he followed again. That night, I barely slept. By morning, the certainty had settled into my bones. Someone was watching me. ************* Alex didn’t look up from his tablet when I told him. “You’re stressed,” he said calmly, skimming through reports. “That clinic has you on edge. It’s normal to feel jumpy.” “I’m not jumpy,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m careful. There’s a difference.”

Chandler turned off the dryer and looked at the top of her head. She set aside everything so she could focus on saving her missing friend in Brazil. But now, Maxine started to wonder again. This excessive anxiety, an ongoing worry, became so irrational. Everything feels clear when it isn't, like her brain won't shut off and if it could, then things might be better. "Being an idiot sometimes is good," Chandler said, placing the blower aside. "Because too much knowledge will make you feel guilty about EVERYTHING. EVERY SINGLE THING."