Have Anxiety? Try Being A Zombie

H

There are advantages to being a zombie. No job, no bills, or long lines at Starbucks. I bet being a zombie is goddamn carefree.

Then I backed up and really thought about it. Would I give up my cubicle and all my bills to experience the existence of a zombie, unencumbered by elections, doctor visits, and anti-aging products?  Wouldn’t I be trading one set of worries in for another?

In reality, zombies are walking bundles of raw nerves and I don’t mean that just literally. How could they not be?

Here are the top anxiety triggers for zombies. How do I know this? Science. Duh.

Diet – Menu choices are limited to raw brains, flesh, or intestines. No matter how much  zombies feasts, they’re always hungry for more. Kind of like Chinese take out. There are no McBrain’s or Brainpotle’s for a quick, easy brain fix. Zombie kids are gonna whine about not getting happy meals with their brains.

Vegan zombies are fucked. They fool themselves with cauliflower for a while, but sooner or later, they’re going to eat brains.

Foodie zombies are both hungry and frustrated. There are only so many ways to artfully prepare raw human brains. What if you develop a taste of a specific type of brain? You work your way through the delicious Schmidt family and then have to settle for the less-than-desirable McNulty’s. Not to mention, the Food Network under represents foodie zombies.

Health issues – You don’t know anxiety until a body part drops off. Ooops, there goes an opposable thumb. No badminton for you, zombie boy. Male zombies are especially prone to the “losing body parts” anxiety. Get a hold of some bad brains and zombie indigestion is not pleasant. Plus, there’s always the risk of eating a human’s mental health disorder and taking on a human’s emotional baggage when you’re already the undead.

Peer pressure – Zombies are expected to be part of the herd. They lurch the same. They moan the same. They move in the same general direction. There is no room for individuality. Pity the zombie who wants to break free and just take a stroll through the wild flowers.

Clothing – What about those who get zombified as they stepped out of the shower? They have to spend their undead time wandering around with a towel on their head while wearing a nasty bathrobe. The envy they feel toward the zombies who turned while dressed in their snappiest clothes makes the whole zombie experience an unhappy one.  Also, what happens when they get bit in the middle of the night wearing funky, holy underwear? They will be lurching around with stains and their nutsacks hanging out. The other zombies will point and laugh. Well, until they lose their digits. Odds are though, the nutsack goes first

Hygiene – House flies annoy the living. Houseflies for the undead are unbearable. Think, for a moment, about unborn flies crawling all over your body. Stressful, right? No amount of cheap body spray hides the stench of decay. Oral hygiene? Forget about it. Flossing never reaches the intestinal chunks stuck in their molars.

PTSD – The living shoot at them every day. People try to shove knives in their brains. There’s swordplay and they don’t get a sword. Wild animals and dogs see them as easy dinner. Do you have any idea how hard it is for a zombie to get a Xanax prescription? They always eat the doctor before he can get the ‘script’ written.

Trauma – I mean, they did watch their family turn into zombies. If truth be told, they probably had a hand in their transformation. Meanies.

Women Zombies – Imagine turning zombie while going through menopause. That will make the baddest, most pissed off zombie of all the zombies. Her hair’s a matted mess and just forget rosy cheeks. The only reason she gets wolf whistled is because her intestines are hanging out and there’s a wolf close by.

Sleep anxiety – Zombies don’t sleep. Sometimes, they just want to take a nap and Motel 6 won’t leave the light on. They are like a shark, always moving, and people like them less than sharks. Unless they are zombie sharks. Nobody loves a zombie shark.

Death – Who doesn’t fear death? Humans fear death while a zombie hopes for death. When is their hero, the bad ass with a crossbow, going to come along and remove their head from their shoulders?

Phobias – Imagine how a zombie with kinemortophobia, the fear of zombies, might feel. One minute, they are stumbling through a park. The next, they glance at their reflection in a pond and scare the shit out of themselves. There’s also the anxiety of misophonia, the “hatred of sound”. With all the moaning, screaming, and sloppy eating, how could they not be anxious?

There you go, just in time for Halloween. Got anxiety? Anxiety sucks major ass. But at least we don’t have to worry about zombie anxiety. Just offering up some seasonal perspective.

About the author

39 comments

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

  • Don’t forget climate change. Zombies love cold climates for obvious reasons, and it’s getting harder and harder to get away from the heat. And also imagine never being able to enjoy going to the beach again. The thing that really sucks about that is lots of people go to the beach and people=food. Yeah, I’d walk right into a helicopter’s blades if I were a zombie too.

    On the other hand there’s never having to worry about sunburn because your flesh is already rotting off. And on the other hand there’s four fingers and a thumb. Not much meat on ’em but they’re fun to gnaw.

  • It really depends on whether the root of the zombie problem was biological or metaphysical. The former likely brings with it the litany of “human” conditions, though likely in a diminishing state of clarity (see; warm bodies). The latter is the dicier of the 2 options depending upon the definition of zombie used; undead or reanimated dead. The undead option leaves open multiple potential levels of perception as the higher will is clearly stripped away but the higher perceptions may be unaffected. Worse still would be the reanimated dead option. “But random, rambling internet guy,” I can hear you say (my hearing is amazing, you’d be shocked) “that means body but no soul. In this, the metaphysical version of events, one might presuppose the existence of a soul which would be sent to wherever souls go. That in itself doesn’t imply eternal torment; that’s faith-based.”

    To which I reply; what if the body and soul are connected and one would have to experience that from an ethereal plane with no actual physical input?

    And then I realize that I basically just answered a rhetorical question again and most of you didn’t even make it this far into my answer so it probably won’t matter.

      • The sad thing is, that’s just what I call a responsive dense thought. When I try to think something up, the results are always odd but not quirky or interesting…just not quite right. But when I just let my brain loose ideas like that shake out, fully formed and with very little input on my part.

  • I’m trying to limit the amount of food I’m stuffing in my face as of late. Thank you for the help here in curbing my appetite for a little while… ; )

  • See, I was thinking it would be cool to be a Zombie. I’m pretty sure they aren’t judgmental. I don’t think you’d ever hear a zombie say, “O… migod, did you see what zombie Khloe Kardashian was wearing? Tragic.”

    Also, I want to be a zombie on day one of the apocalypse because running is exhausting. I’d be tired after the first quarter mile. I could maybe speed walk for another half mile, but I’d complain the ENTIRE time, then one of the other survivors would be so sick of listening to me whine, he’d shoot me with a crossbow.

    Plus, if you’re a zombie, I think you can eat as much as you want and still shed the pounds/flesh.

  • Thanks for the laugh, both my PTSD and SAD kicked in yesterday big time and the thought of a zombie with both of those just made me chuckle.

  • I think the level of anxiety would be directly related to the type of zombie you might be? Like if I was a 28-Days Later zombie I’d totally stress out about the amount of mad dashing around I’d have to do. They run everywhere – and have to look all crazed and angry the entire time. It would be exhausting! If I was a Land of the Dead or Pirates of the Caribbean zombie, I’d have to worry about being eaten by a shark as I tried to walk underwater – and about holding my breath. Would I need to hold my breath if my lungs had already rotted away? If I was a Michael Jackson Thriller zombie, I’d be totally having a panic attack at the thought of having to be in a choreographed group dance number – one misstep and those other zombies would be rolling whatever eyes happened to still be in their heads.

  • This is great, So much of our time is spent running from our anxiety. Doing anything to avoid it. And when it appears, fighting it and trying to ignore it. We all hate our anxiety. We talk about it all the time, about what a burden it is to us and our families. About how we just want to be normal and rid of this horrible plague in our lives.

By Michelle

Michelle

RSIH in your inbox



Categories