Hi guys. I’m Amanda. I’ve been called “Amandivan” in the past because of my anxious ass. (Combo of Amanda and Ativan for those who weren’t sure). I’m mostly sharing so others who feel like I do know they’re not alone 🖤 


Anxiety is a mother fucker right. I have these things that I call anxiety spirals where my thoughts get out of control. So, instead of internalizing it, I’ve been working on saying it outloud. Saying it out loud has made me seem insane, but keeping it all in makes me feel much worse. Just within the last month…  

Example one: on our honeymoon. We saw a beautifully important dog with an I-mean-business-type harness on running round our hotel floor. Obviously I assumed he was a bedbug sniffing dog. No other reason he was there. Nope. Couldn’t come up with one other reason. Did I ask anyone if that was the dogs job? No. Did I assume I had bed bugs? Of course. Did I ruin a full half hour+ of my lovely time in a fancy London hotel thinking ANY FUZZY OR CRUMB was a bed bug? You bet your ass – tactile hallucinations and all.  

Example two: a different day on our honeymoon I peed maybe twice in an hour. For no reason other than I can go an entire 12hr shift at work without peeing did I assume I had a UTI. Plotting, googling and planning how it was going to ruin the second leg of our trip and how IF it was a Uti that I would be miserable in pain and how to get someone from the states to call in antibiotics to a Boots Chemist in Waterloo. 🥴

 Neither of these worry examples came to fruition. But it ruined my precious time. I spend so much time fucking ruining my time.  


Listen. I’m not psychotic. I just worry. A shit ton. About nothing. And when I have nothing to worry about, I’ll find something. Achem, see above.  

 My emo pop punk self thinks of FOB lyrics.

“We must tell the best jokes

We must make it hard to

Look so easy doing something so hard” 

I try so hard to look collected and calm and funny and flexible when I’m holding. It. All. In. I am mostly happy. And love a lot. (See. Now I’m even worried that I made myself look too wompy and am trying to back pedal to make sure everyone knows I’m okay) what the hell. Worrying and people pleasing TO THE CORE. I’m working on it. But anyone who knows me knows my therapist is on maternity leave so I just need to cool it. This is a good outlet 👍🏼 (edit: she’s back now- #blessed)

I often wonder what it’s like to not worry or not be a worried anxious person. Some people just… live?? And aren’t concerned about social Norms in places they’re not familiar. They don’t get a belly ache worrying if the restaurant they want to go to might be busy so they should make a reservation but what if it’s a small not busy restaurant and they make a reservation at a mall-pizza-place and now look like an ass? I say these things because I’ve done it. Made a ressy at a DEAD restaurant in a strip mall. Who cared that I did that? Fucking no one… but me, because I still think about it.  

And I still think about the time in second grade where I had the song “ karma chameleon” stuck in my head and my teacher said “if you Sing it one more time…” and I got put in time out. In class. In second grade. So embarrassing. CLOSE TO DISMISSAL TIME which also meant FUCK what if I miss my bus?!? Can I tell you, I had that worry DAILY… from first grade to senior year of high school… you know how many times I missed the bus? Not once.  

 Anxiety is all consuming. Want someone to scare you out of doing something? I’m your girl. Need help over analyzing something? Pick me! But when you say things out loud it helps you realize what matters and what doesn’t. Thanks for listening. Also. DM me… I can also help talk out of an anxiety spiral, trust me, I do it all the time, and am working on it.

—————- ——

Editors note: I have to say I cackled while reading the part about karma chameleon, because I too got yelled at for refusing to stop singing it, however it was at age 27 on a rehab van with a bunch of other assholes. Sorry Kelsey but that song is fire lmfaoooooo 🤣 come in on the kickdrum anyone?

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