How to calm yourself down when the whole world won’t get out of your face.
My skin is cracking and I look 700 years old
‘But I’ve been using an expensive anti-ageing moisturiser practically since I was eleven. What is this?’ you are screaming at the mirror. It’s OK. When you feel like your face is falling off and that you can see death visibly approaching, remember that the collective noun for pugs is a grumble. A grumble of pugs. Now go and google a grumble of pug puppies. Feeling better?
I have no idea what is happening in my life, HELP ME
You don’t know where anything is. You can’t remember why you walked into the room. What are your glasses doing in the fridge? You have seventeen unanswered texts on your phone. It’s OK. You’re not the only person to have let things unravel a bit. Look at the mum in E.T. She didn’t know she had an alien living in her house for ages. THAT is what out of control looks like.
I just want to run from the room screaming ‘Fuck you all!’
You are trapped in a social circle of hell and it’s past 10pm. You are having a conversation with someone who hasn’t asked you a single question and your ex-boyfriend has just walked into the room looking handsome and happy. Your only thought is to roar out of the room, screaming, in a blaze of madness. It’s OK. It is summer. There is rosé. Drink the rosé. Drink all the rosé. Don’t share it.
I am being forced to deal with sexism at work
Sexism at work is literally the most comatose-inducing situation known to humans. Any woman forced to listen to the prehistoric ramblings of an unevolved megabore who thinks it’s funny/appropriate to make weird, backward comments at your expense does not deserve a place at the table of your anxiety. It’s OK. Just remember Lena Dunham invoking the spirit of Mariah Carey when dealing with angry men (‘Why are you so obsessed with me?’) – only for Mariah to tweet her back with her full blessing to invoke her any time, complete with a gif of herself blowing a kiss. What a time to be alive.
I haven’t slept in what feels like a decade
You are deranged with exhaustion. Everyone keeps commenting on it. You now feel like the ghost of Judy Garland is living in your house, possessing you to take sleeping medication. It’s OK. Taboo has been given a second series by the BBC. Tom Hardy with no trousers on, mumbling spells by a fireplace. Focus. There’s always something to look forward to. You can re-watch him on CBeebies while you wait. Sensible.
You just bought something very expensive by mistake
OMG. You own the world’s most expensive shoes and are now going to end up chased out of your own house by HMRC with nowhere to go but back to your parents to live your days out like Norman Bates in Psycho. It’s OK. You don’t need to explain your purchases to anyone. Just think of that time Justin Bieber had his monkey seized by the German government. “Honestly, everyone told me not to bring the monkey. Everybody,” he said about that fateful trip to Munich. “I was like, ‘It’s gonna be fine, guys!’ It was the farthest thing from fine.” Not that he cares what anyone thinks – and we could all do with a dose of that. “People are always like, ‘Why did you get a monkey?’ If you could get a monkey, well, you would get a f—ing monkey, too. Monkeys are awesome.”