I spent a lot of time in bathrooms. It's not that I have to pee constantly. It's that I'm looking for peace.
The writer Margaret Atwood, in her book Lady Oracle, wrote: "Thank God for toilet cubicles...the only places left for solitary mediation and prayer."
When I'm feeling overwhelmed by living in New York City, I step out of the crowd and go to the bathroom.
When I feel like I've done something stupid, I go to the bathroom.
When I think I'm the fattest one in a room filled with women as colorful and bright as birds of paradise, I seek out the quiet of the ladies' room.
When I feel my heart rise up and thunder in my chest, and my anxiety wrap itself around my throat, I go to the bathroom.
I always have a pen and my journal with me. Often, I'll write. It's like a little bubble of the universe has broken off from the world, leaving me alone. Something I both love and hate.
Of course, I get to pee too. Let's not overlook that.
I want to try and explain what it's like to live with severe anxiety and dark thoughts while trying to carry on a normal life. So here we are: WickedPisser. I grew up in Boston, where 'wicked pissa' means 'great!' Hence, the name.
You can call me Cassie.
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