Do you feel like anxiety has a grip on your throat?
SkyDxddy isn’t here to explain what anxiety feels like—she wants you to live it. Her new single "Choker" doesn’t play out like a message or a plea. It’s not a diary entry or a therapeutic unpacking. It’s something else entirely: a reconstruction of what it means to be stuck in survival mode. You don’t just hear the lyrics. You recognise the silence between the words. You recognise the emotional dissonance—the smile that masks the spiral, the calm voice that covers the panic.
The result isa sort of simulation—an emotional experience that hits in the same way a contemporary art piece might, surrounding you, disorienting you, forcing you to sit with something you usually run from. It’s what makes her approach to storytelling stand out. She’s not here to simplify the pain. She’s here to show you what it really feels like.
Her upcoming debut album, Traumacore (Raw & Uncut), out May 16, takes the same approach. It's being released during Mental Health Awareness Month, but it doesn’t feel like a campaign or a concept. It feels like someone opening the door to a room most people keep shut. These aren’t clean stories with takeaways or redemption arcs. They’re raw memories. They’re messy, uncomfortable, and personal in a way that feels risky—but deeply human.
"Choker" in particular is built around a specific kind of emotional contradiction: the ability to function while everything inside is falling apart. SkyDxddy calls it smiling through survival mode. Anyone who has struggled with high-functioning anxiety knows what that means. It’s the quiet panic behind social interactions. It’s the exhaustion that comes from pretending. It’s the performance of normalcy, while privately suffocating. And this track doesn’t try to explain any of that. It just lets you feel it.
There’s a quiet generosity in that. In making something that doesn’t try to fix the listener or give them a motivational quote to hold onto, but instead says, “I see you.” That phrase comes directly from SkyDxddy herself, and it says more than any campaign slogan ever could. This is the kind of art that gives people language for what they’ve been through—not by intellectualising it, but by reflecting it back with absolute clarity.
The album, based on early insights, doesn’t shy away from the hardest subjects: body dysmorphia, addiction, grief, trauma, and abuse. But it doesn’t exploit them either. It isn’t trauma for clicks. It’s trauma laid bare by someone who has lived it and who has learned how to turn it into connection. There’s no lecture, no apology. Just a quiet kind of solidarity.
"Choker" isn’t comforting in the traditional sense. It doesn’t soothe or uplift. But what it does offer is something often more powerful: the reassurance that you’re not the only one choking on your own silence. In a culture of emotional performance, SkyDxddy’s honesty hits hard. She’s not crafting a persona. She’s building a mirror. And for many listeners, seeing themselves in it might be the first time they’ve felt less alone.
Follow SkyDxddy