THE UNSALTED

It has been said that about 10% of people experience hanqxiety, including yours truly. I didn’t realize it was a thing, until it became apparent not everyone seemed to have a similar experience (Ahh, blessed be their peaceful minds). The intensity can vary from a slight feeling of unease to a full-blown panic attack, where one can be convinced of having done something stupid and irreparable. Here’s my personal ray of sunshine though: I haven’t had anything worse than a mild case in years. Now let’s hope I didn’t jinx the fuck out of it.

So what’s hangxiety, you say? Well, lemme tell you. You know how any substance, whether it’s alcohol or drugs, usually results in withdrawal when the effects have worn off? Well, when you have hanqxiety, your mind can link some of those physical aspects to a mental and emotional reaction. It’s when a hangover meets anxiety. The perfect love story, except you’re probably the loser in it.

After a night of drinking, your body does everything it can to restore. There’s a balance to everything, which in this case, sucks. Your dopamine levels will drop, your heart rate increases, you may experience nausea, and so on and so forth. You get the picture. All those things are very similar to what people endure during anxiety. And since your mind is wired to tap into previous experiences, it’s a very real possibility to find yourself not undergoing those effects as merely physical withdrawal, but to have them escalate and be dealt with on an emotional level as well. Add some blurred memories in the mix, as well as some very, very questionable texts, and you’ve got yourself the recipe for a day of what-the-fuck-have-I-done-spiraling. If you enjoy rollercoasters, you might wanna consider visiting a theme park instead of hopping on this ride. Although I have to warn you: getting on isn’t exactly a choice. So might as well buckle up for the drop, kiddo.

A British study suggests if you’re shy, you’re more likely to suffer from hangxiety, and that seems pretty logical to me. I think if you’re more introverted or reserved, it’s easier to feel like you’ve overstepped when you were under the influence (God, I sound like Aunt Gertrude when saying that). Emphasis on the feel, by the way. You were probably a little bit more out there, possibly overshared, and the fuzziness of things doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in how you handled everything. Cue regret, shame and/or guilt, and let the overthinking begin. How dare you have stepped out into the world, Gollum? Back to your cave it is.

So how to deal with it? I’m not gonna tell you to just stop worrying (Gee, thanks, Marianne, what an illuminating idea). Instead, all I can suggest is to simply accept it’s happening, and remember that it’s only temporary. Try to handle it like you would a regular hangover. Hold off on the apology texts until the next day: there’s a big chance you won’t feel the need to anymore. The people who love you still love you. You’re in your head. Now snap out of it. Not a success? Don’t sweat it. Embrace your discomfort, and look for some form of distraction. Put your phone away for the day. Take a bath. Watch your favorite show. Read your go-to book. Occupy your mind with things that bring you comfort.

In most cases of hangxiety, you’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about. Even if you wake up with this feeling of unease, you don’t have to let it control your day. I usually take a long look at Room, my ridiculous Persian cat with a constant blank expression on its face, and that’s all I need to realize that life can truly be that easy. You little cross-eyed dummy. I hope you have wonderful dreams. If you even have dreams and thoughts at all.