Local illustrator on debut book and becoming friends with her anxiety

Seattle illustrator Haley Weaver’s first encounter with anxiety was in the form of a monster under her bed that spoke her terror into existence. Over the years, she came to know anxiety as a “permanent, imperfect roommate.” 

In her debut illustrated memoir, “Give Me Space but Don’t Go Far: My Unlikely Friendship with Anxiety,” Weaver shares how she’s learned to coexist with her anxiety and the coping mechanisms she’s picked up along the way.

“The biggest thing I wanted to drive home about anxiety is that generally, anxiety is talking to you because it wants to keep you safe,” Weaver says. “Even if it’s completely irrational, even if it’s coming from a place of like, obviously, I’m not going to get dramatically hurt going to a party, but I could be emotionally hurt.”

According to the National Institute of Mental Health, an estimated 31.1% of U.S. adults experience an anxiety disorder at some time in their lives. Weaver takes on this increasingly common experience and unearths a personal perspective that audiences can find relatable.

Weaver started posting her art online in early 2017 and posted her first illustration humanizing anxiety in December 2018. Through her art and writing, she explores and dissects mental health, selfhood and relationships.

Weaver’s memoir is a sweet, vulnerable retelling of her biggest conflicts with anxiety throughout her life. She spills her deepest secrets, darkest fears, cruelest shame spirals and all the lies she’s ever told through relatable, funny and vivid illustrations.

“The more I became personal [in the book], the more it felt like a story worth telling,” Weaver says. “I started thinking about how to include my coping mechanisms and make everyone a character and kind of anthropomorphize my brain.”

In the illustrations, she envisions her anxiety as a brain-shaped black tangle — noting that anxiety can look different for different people. Cutesy, colorful hearts represent the human characters. Her coping mechanisms make appearances as sticklike rectangles in vivid outfits, each with their set of elaborate gimmicks and schemes, organizing themselves in her internal world like “tiny soldiers” always at odds with anxiety.

As a child, some of her coping mechanisms involved throwing tantrums, hiding, keeping her true thoughts secret, distracting herself to avoid uncomfortable feelings and blatantly lying. In college, Weaver used alcohol and partying to make her social anxiety quieter. 

“I thought it was like this total party trick, to just drink and suddenly become the most interesting person in the room and of course, that went horribly wrong,” Weaver says. “Because I not only made a total fool of myself many times but also truly endangered my life many times. So, that was a coping mechanism that, like healthy boundaries, had to be very firmly set in my adulthood.”

Weaver eventually found a healthy coping mechanism that became her favorite — writing. She says it’s helped her loosen her anxiety with each word and drawing etched on the page. 

“[Writing] is BFF No. 1. I think I’ve always been a person that keeps a diary or a sketchbook and that’s how I process a lot of my emotions,” Weaver says. “I have so many journals at home, full of every thought I’ve had, every fear I’ve had, ruminating bad dates or horrible job interviews.”

In August 2017, Weaver moved to Seattle. She started seeing a therapist who introduced her to new coping mechanisms like taking space when she needed it, meditation and warding off overwhelming feelings. During the pandemic, Weaver found that spending time outdoors was another coping mechanism she never knew she needed.

Throughout the book, Weaver personifies anxiety as an entity with worries, fears and rationalizations. As she narrates the tender moments of her life, she starts to see anxiety as a part of her — a part trying to keep her secure and alive. Near the end of the memoir, Weaver not only finds healthy ways to cope but also learns to love her anxiety.

At 30, Weaver says she sees anxiety show up more intensely but is better equipped to deal with it.

“While I would never say anxiety doesn’t bother me anymore … I have a lot more of a gentle approach to my anxiety,” she says. “ … I approach it now with a little bit more curiosity, like, ‘Where’s this coming from? Why am I feeling so heightened about this thing?’ Because it’s just in my head. No one else is telling me this besides this little guy.”