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Hipstercrite Life

Anxiety and the Thirty-Something

Austin sky

It got to the point where I couldn’t leave the house.

A small, round bruise on my leg would send me into unshakeable despair.

“I’m going to die,” I’d repeat to myself.

My suffering boyfriend, the man who didn’t sign up for this, would hold me and remind me, like he always did, that everything was going to be ok. You are ok.

And that’s the kicker, right? You know you are ok, so why are you feeling this way?

Minor panic attacks were hitting two or three times a week, while the major ones, the “PLEASE, SOMEONE TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL BECAUSE I’M PROBABLY HAVING A STROKE” moments, were once or twice a month. It made me irritable, it made me flakey and it made me want to retreat from the world.

Throughout my twenties, I was confused, I was sad, I drank, I passive-aggressively texted paramours, I threw myself into my job, I changed who I was for the worst. All of these ugly feelings and character manifestations happened, but there was one (more…)

20-Something, Hipstercrite Life

Is Life About Taking Risks?

Lately my anxieties have prevented me from living the life I want to live.

It took a lot of self-analyzing and begrudged admittance to say this out loud. I have my theories as to why my anxieties have become as bloated as a Pufferfish in the BP oil spill, but I haven’t yet discovered the answer. One step at a time.

This realization/admittance came after I found myself having an exaggerated and unnecessarily negative reaction to minor obstacles affecting my getting to Portugal to see Geoff (he is currently teaching there for three months).

In other words, I went ape shit girl drama cray-cray: crying, throwing garbage cans, drinking Malibu Rum on the couch and taking 3 hour naps to prevent myself from yelling at people on the sidewalk.

You see, sinking ship American Airlines will not release a voucher to us that would help pay for my plane ticket. This has caused me to scramble to find the resources to get to Europe. A few options have become available (another smaller voucher (more…)

Hipstercrite Life

When Almost Passing Out During Yoga is Exactly What You Need

Yesterday,  I wrote about how I felt like I was cracking up due to my nighttime anxieties. Trying never to give in and dwell on the negative, I decided I needed to do something about it.

So I picked the most cliché thing possible- I tried yoga for the first time!

Cliché or not, it was well worth it.

I’ve owned two yoga mats in my life and have never actually done yoga. Thanks to my friend Jordan, I finally got the push in the tush I needed to go.

We went to the donation-based Black Swan Yoga on 5th Street. The moment I walked in, I was struck at how peaceful and positive the atmosphere was. I’m not sure why this surprised me. It’s not like they play death metal and talk about cutting yourself at yoga. Everyone was so friendly and not in an over-the-top kind of way. Like a pull you in and hug you and make you feel all warm and gushy kind of way.

I sat down and was instantly struck by the fear that my feet might stink, but when I realized that yoga is not about being self-conscious, (more…)

Hipstercrite Life

The Crack-Up


The past couple of nights I haven’t felt my strongest.

As I mentioned before, my boyfriend, who I’ve spent nearly every day with since we first met, has left for Portugal for three months. Since I work freelance from the house, I find myself with more alone time than I did before I met Geoff. We don’t have a TV, so there isn’t the omnipresent media voice protecting me from my own thoughts.

Actually, that’s a lie. There is a TV. It’s upstairs in the bedroom, but I refuse to sleep there. I sleep on the couch downstairs because I feel safer there. Upstairs I have no control of what is going on downstairs.

This logic makes no sense.

But back to being alone with your thoughts. It’s a dangerous pastime when you have an overactive imagination. It can be paralyzing. You can absolutely convince yourself of something because all you’re doing hyper-focusing on that thought.

Every night, every damn fucking night, I’m convinced that someone is going to break in. I hear a noise (more…)

Austin, Hipstercrite Life

I’ve Become Scared of My Own Shadow

Lately I’ve had this growing illogical fear that every single evening someone is trying to break into my house.

Every single night.

Typically around 4AM.

I guess that would make it morning then? 4AM is that ungodly time that really deserves it’s own time of day. It’s the gateway from night into morning. It’s dark and ominous and you most likely won’t hear a soul except for the psychopath hiding outside your window. My window. He likes to hang out there and tap melodies on the pane and dance on dead leaves. He’s a pretty bad dancer from what I can tell, but are psychopaths ever really good dancers?

This fear has begun effecting my life greatly. My sleeping patterns have become distressed and I often wake up to my heart pounding through my chest. Recently I even found myself standing on the street corner in my silk robe dialing 911 in one hand and brandishing an Ikea paring knife and Swiffer mop in the other. That evening I was absolutely convinced someone was in my house and (more…)

Hipstercrite Life, Pop Culture

Teenage Wasteland

People under the age of 20 scare the living hell out of me.

Teenagers have zero understanding of how life works. Unless they grew up in a Little Orphan Annie-type setting. Then they understand the way life works more than I’ll ever want to know. Because most teenagers are inexperienced with the ways of the world, they are prone to doing terrible and illogical things such as shooting animals, driving drunk, taking dumps in public spaces, and wearing pajama bottoms for pants.

When I think about the potential ways that I am to expire, death by teenager is one of my greatest fears. Teenagers act without knowledge of ramifications. They will shoot you point blank with a smile and then go eat a peanut butter & jelly sandwich. THEY WILL EAT YOUR FIRSTBORN AND THEN USE THEIR RIB CAGES AS TOOTHPICKS.

If you don’t agree with me, take a look at this story that happened on Friday night.

A friend and I were out and about on the hipster-centric east side of Austin. After the bars closed, (more…)