Despite being a book that features way more taxidermy animals than I would be usually comfortable with, Jenny Lawson brings little pearls of wisdom from the madness of yelling, Texas childhoods and a cocktail of physical and mental illnesses that make up this sharp writer. I loved this book.

There are quotable moments in this book, like the entire epilogue, the moments where she talks from experience about how her definition of 'living' is entirely different to someone else's and that's OK, and her 'fights with Victor' which made me laugh out loud.

Mostly, as someone who was diagnosed with severe depression in December and has had anxiety since I was able to form a coherent thought, I appreciate how much her discussion of mental illness captured what it's truly like. Obviously it's different for everyone, but I think it's pretty close to what I do when I get into depressive episodes. It made me feel hopeful. That even when all the awful clouds are raining on you, there will be sun. Eventually. You've just gotta keep pushing.

You've just got to be furiously happy.