Which Classic ’80s Board Game Is Responsible For Your Anxiety Disorder?
Childhood is an amazing time of magic, learning, and absorbing trauma that will ruin your entire adulthood. Sure, most of it will come from your parents being fuck ups, but don’t let the contributions of whimsical childhood traditions go unnoticed! If you’re always inexplicably terrified in elevators or rendered speechless by salad bars, there’s a good chance a classic ’80s board game is at the root of your anxiety. Answer these questions to find out which super fun childhood board game trauma factory you should sue for therapy money!
I’m Most Afraid Of:
a) The building I’m in rapidly decaying to the point that it all collapses and I’m sent screaming to my death.
b) People noticing me eat, commenting on it, and then asking if I want more.
c) The ice. THE ICE.
When I’m Scared, I Usually Cope By:
a) Taking the safest option and edging around the problem rather than confronting it head-on.
b) Frantically stress-eating, shoving more and more in until my esophagus reverses course and spews every morsel back onto the buffet table.
c) Add more tissues under my feet! More and more, until I can take just one more step!
I’d Never Want To Vacation In:
a) A city. Or a hotel. Or a building. Maybe a tent? How tall is the tent? How hard is it to knock the tent down?
b) Africa. Not because I’m racist, I swear!
c) THE IIIIIIIIIIIICE.
My Last Relationship Ended Because:
a) They lived on the 15th floor.
b) I could feel them watching me eat. Calculating every swallow. They were counting.
c) Every time we’d fight, they’d say I was skating on you-know-what. I sued for emotional abuse.
If you’ve chosen mostly A’s, the inescapable mental trauma of Jenga has permanently scarred you. Your anxiety disorder exists on (sorry) ground level.
If you’ve chosen mostly Bs, you have that garage sale where Dad bought you Hungry Hungry Hippos to blame for your constant food-related anxiety.
If you’ve chosen mostly Cs, you are a niche ’80s board game trauma victim who owned Thin Ice. Honestly, we’re not sure how a therapist is going to do with this one, but avoid wet Kleenex and tweezers in all situations.