Election Anxiety: Why We Need to Chill and Why We Can’t

We need to talk about this election hysteria. I read this article in the Denver Gazette, and my mood swung harder than a Timnath couple with a pineapple on their porch. If this article teaches us anything, it’s that the political climate has turned into a nationwide group therapy session—complete with wine, Xanax, and probably more panic attacks than a haunted house full of clowns.

People like Kelly Stahlman and Lori Frasier aren’t just voting; they’re bracing for doomsday. Even the gym is now a place to squat away your existential dread. And why not? Every cycle, both sides roll out the “democracy is dead if they win” banner like it’s a Macy’s parade float. Everyone’s stressed, and for good reason. You’ve got a 2024 landscape where insults fly like seagulls at a beach picnic, and even comedians weaponize jokes that go nuclear.

Still, a moment for some real talk: elections are a high-stakes game, but they’re not a game over. The APA says 80% of us are on edge, half of us are angry, and a chunk is politically ghosting their families harder than a bad Tinder date. The psychologist’s advice? Detox from social media, touch some grass, and maybe, just maybe, remember that the world is not a swirling abyss of red and blue.

But let’s not kid ourselves. After Nov. 5, we won’t all be linking arms, singing kumbaya. As Maggie Watt nailed it, there’s a dark cloud hovering. And whether you think the sun’s going to break through or we’re in for more stormy weather, one thing’s for sure: this election is making us all question whether “we the people” includes the ability to chill the hell out.

We are more divided than ever, but we must find our E Pluribus Unum – from many, one.

So take Randi Smith’s advice: put down your phone, log out, and maybe have an awkward chat with your hairstylist who votes differently. Worst case? You get a new perspective. Best case? You come out of it with a great haircut and a reminder that there’s still more that unites us than divides us—when we’re not busy doomscrolling ourselves into oblivion.