I Write About Mice But Actually Anxiety.

It’s funny, the things that finally set you off.

Like, I’ve always presumed that I was a relatively hinged person, but here I am, utterly unhinged. For some of you, this will be unsurprising. Some of you will be thinking, “Geraldine, YOU WERE NEVER HINGED. YOU HAVE FEWER HINGES THAN A SLIDING DOOR.” And I hear you, friends. I understand that I am very good at giving the impression of being *waves hands around in a fluttering fashion to suggest madness* but that is just theatrics. For the most part, in my everyday life, I am calm! And reasonable! And I do not cry while watching movie trailers!

I handle all sorts of things without turning into a fire hydrant of feelings. Death threats in my Twitter feed? No problem! Weird health issues that result in my menstrual cycle seeming resembling a risque, one-woman staging of Carrie? Fine! (Also, someone

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