There was a girl who wondered when she would stop thinking of herself as a girl and instead of a woman which at 26 she most certainly was. It was the best of times and the worst of times and nothing ever made sense. She lived in a third floor flat with her husband, 2 dogs, 2 ferrets, and more prescription pill bottles than any healthy person should have to contend with. You’re in pain? Take a pill. You’re anxious? Take a pill. You’re depressed? Take a pill! The thought had occurred to her more than once to just grind them all together mush them into one big pill because for some reason that sounded more palatable. But sometimes she stopped and looked and realized that maybe being anxious and depressed was completely understandable. Everyone hated everyone. No one had any money. And for some reason things just…kept…exploding. Literally. Exploding. How is anyone supposed to feel secure when things just…blow the fuck up?
Empathy was her gift and curse. The poor Muslims. They had their faith and everyone in America hated them for it. The poor LGBT community. They had found love in a cold world and everyone hated them for it. The poor republicans they were scared and fear will make people do bizarre things. The poor gun enthusiast they just wanted to protect themselves and desperate times…and these are desperate times…well sometimes you need a fully automatic machine gun once the rioting begins. Everyone has a point. Everyone has a fatal flaw. The hypocrisy leads to ambivalence leads to anguish leads to anxiety.
Sometimes to maintain your sanity…you have to go a little crazy.
And Anxiety Girl was born.