
Two of Correll's signature figures side by side: the striped-shirt character lying flat on the floor, once as plain depression and once, cocktail in hand under a palm tree, as a tropical depression. The full version appears further down.
Gemma Correll is a British cartoonist, writer and illustrator whose small, scruffy drawings have become shorthand online for what anxiety and low mood feel like. Her recurring character, a woman with glasses, a ponytail and a red-striped top, overthinks phone calls, hides from parties, lies face-down on the floor and shares her bed with pugs. The comics are funny first, but readers often say they feel seen by them.
This collection gathers 52 of her illustrations about depression, anxiety, health and ordinary awkwardness, with a short note on each. If you are searching for her work, this is a good introduction to its main themes.
Who is Gemma Correll?
On her own website Correll describes herself as a cartoonist, writer, illustrator and all-round small person. She studied at art school in Norwich, England, graduating with a BA (Hons) in graphic design specialising in illustration. Her books include A Pug's Guide to Etiquette (2013), The Feminist Activity Book (2015) and The Worrier's Guide to Life (2015), and her comics have appeared on The Nib and Tinyview.
Her commercial clients have included The New York Times, Hallmark, Oxford University Press, Chronicle Books and Bodyform, and several drawings below carry the logo of Mental Health America, a US non-profit that has used her illustrations in awareness campaigns. One of her self-portraits in this set notes that by 2016 she was working as a professional illustrator and living in another country.
Why humour helps people talk about mental health
Correll's comics work because they name specific thoughts rather than general feelings. Instead of saying anxiety is hard, she shows the exact spiral that follows a friend being five minutes late, or the silent prayer that nobody answers the phone. Seeing a private thought drawn on paper can make it feel less shameful and easier to talk about.
The comics are personal expression, not therapy, and not every panel will match every reader's experience. Depression and anxiety are real health conditions with effective treatments. If drawings like these feel uncomfortably familiar, or low mood is affecting your daily life, talk to a doctor or a mental health professional.
The comics, one by one

A friend is five minutes late, and the thought bubbles escalate from mild worry to a ditch, a hospital and blaming herself. It is a precise portrait of catastrophising, where the mind jumps from a small trigger to the worst possible outcome.

A self-portrait comparing 2006 and 2016. Ten years earlier she was at art school, working in a high-street shop and sure she would never make it; ten years later she is a professional illustrator, living in another country, with two pugs and slightly less anxiety.

Seven thought bubbles all say the same thing, I can't do this, while the character keeps drawing, with a final note that she is doing it anyway. Many people with anxiety will recognise the gap between what the inner voice says and what they still manage to do.

A railway map called the Train of Overthinking, with stops such as Why Did I Say That Central and Everyone Hates Me Now-ville. The loop shape is the point: anxious rumination tends to go round in circles rather than reach a destination.

The Road to an Idea is a tangle of loops, wrong turns, naps, yoga, crying and dead ends before it finally reaches the word IDEA. It is a cheerful corrective to the myth that creative work arrives in a straight line.

A tourist map of Menstrual Island, visited once a month, featuring Bloaty Town, Crampy Valley, Hater Lake and the HMS Sanity leaving in three to seven days. Period comics are a recurring theme in her work, and they helped make the subject less taboo in mainstream humour.

She cannot sleep on planes because she is personally holding the aircraft up with her mind. Fear of flying often comes with this kind of magical thinking, the feeling that relaxing for a second will cause disaster.

The Diabolical Deeds of Nefarious Uterus: a cartoon womb admires a pair of new pants, then vows to ruin them. It is one of several comics in which Correll turns the body into a mischievous character.

A large pug sprawls across the bed and the pillow, under the words You have stolen my heart, and the punchline, and my bed. Pugs are Correll's trademark; her first book was A Pug's Guide to Etiquette.

The classic line about slipping into something more comfortable gets a literal answer: an oversized T-shirt, fluffy socks and a bag of crisps. It is a gentle joke about how unglamorous real comfort is.

At a party she nods along to a conversation while thinking about pugs and pizza, then panics when asked what she thinks. Drifting attention in social situations is a common experience for introverts and anxious people alike.

Four increasingly tangled poses, each with the same doubt: is this yoga? Anyone who has followed a class from the back row knows the feeling.

A single word in big red letters, NOPE, above the character face-down on the floor. Some days need no further explanation.

At parties you will find her crouched in a corner making friends with the host's cat, wine in hand, rather than with the cool people. She compares herself to a drunken Snow White, which is both funny and very relatable.

The full version of the depression pun from 2017. In weather terms a tropical depression is a storm system; here it becomes the same exhausted figure, just with sunglasses, a flower garland and a cocktail.

Too depressed to move, too anxious to stay still, with arrows forming an endless loop. It captures how depression and anxiety, which often occur together, can pull in opposite directions at the same time.

Very busy doing nothing: wrapped in a blanket with a hot drink and two pugs. Rest is presented without guilt, which is a small but meaningful message.

A rewrite of René Descartes' famous line, I think therefore I am, with the word over added before think and anxious added at the end. She credits the joke playfully to Descartes plus Gemma Correll.

The official uniform of the freelancer from 2014, with labels such as ceremonial robe of honour, traditional freelance sweatpants and a compulsory shirt for video calls. It looks even more accurate after years of remote working became normal.

A horror story in one panel: someone hands her the phone because a caller wants to talk to her. Phone anxiety, especially among younger people who grew up texting, is a widely shared experience.

It's OK to be a work in progress, with the character painting the words on a wall. This piece carries the logo of Mental Health America, the US non-profit, which has used Correll's illustrations in its awareness work.

Out running in a tracksuit, she thinks: this is a betrayal of everything I stand for. Exercise helps many people's mood, but the comic is honest about how unnatural it can feel at first.

Two friends face to face with the words You always know what I need to hear. Another Mental Health America illustration, this one about the value of supportive friends.

Two versions of the same woman, each wishing to be the other: the punk in black wants to be kawaii and pretty, the one in pink frills wants to be minimal and punk. It is a light jab at how rarely people feel content with their own style.

The Perils of Chronic Overthinking, from 2015: a figure buried under a cloud of questions such as Am I good enough? and Everyone is staring at me, with only a hand and a call for help visible.

Real-life horror movie posters: The Phone Call, The Unexpected Guests, Those People Over There Are Laughing and Attack of the Overly Chatty Waiters. Old B-movie styling makes small social fears look as dramatic as they feel.

A llama in a bow tie confesses: I llike you. A llot! Not every drawing in the collection is about worry; plenty are simply silly wordplay.

A box of compliments, please take one: you look nice, you did a good job, you're talented. A gentle reminder that a kind word costs nothing.

My Bladder 'n' Me, from 2018: she has fun plans for the day, her bladder proposes spending it on the toilet in pain instead. Correll has drawn several comics about chronic health problems, making the frustration recognisable without heavy explanation.

Anxietea: a teacup worries about being too hot, too cold, tasting weird or being too perfect to live up to. The pun turns the most comforting British drink into a nervous wreck.

Time to make that phone call, she decides, and then, while it rings, hopes desperately that nobody picks up. Another of her many comics about phone anxiety.

Early bird, night owl and a third category: the permanently exhausted pigeon, lying on its back. Many readers find the third bird the most relatable.

Two people carry boxes labelled anxiety, illness, stress, panic and bad times, under the words Thanks for helping with the heavy stuff. This Mental Health America piece is about friends who share the load.

Mental illness feels like a tug of war with yourself: two identical figures pulling a rope in opposite directions. The hashtag at the top was part of a Mental Health America awareness campaign.

From the same campaign, a cycle between I have to do all the things and Everything I do is crap. It shows how pressure and self-criticism can feed each other in a loop.

Part of a comic drawn as a ballet chart for being ill: the wheezing double cough. The dance-step format makes the misery of a heavy cold strangely elegant.

The next step in the same routine: the pas de tissue, a ballet-style leap for a tissue, followed by a nose-blowing move. The French ballet term pas de deux is the source of the pun.

Not sick, she wishes she could get sick for a day off; sick, she is bored and wishes she were working. The grass is always greener on the other side of the duvet.

Your hair looks nice, says a friend. Thank you, I brushed it, comes the reply. A small joke about how low the bar for self-care can be on hard days.

The fountain of knowledge next to the geyser of nonsense from the internet, with a crowd gathered at the geyser. From 2016, it feels more pointed every year.

Le Menstrual Couture collection, 2018: a hot water bottle down the trousers, a blanket cocoon and the I can't stand up straight posture, presented like a fashion show.

A meditating woman keeps asking whether she is in the moment yet, then thinks about being hungry and wanting chips. Drawn with the BodyPositive logo, it gently mocks how hard mindfulness can be in practice.

A pug in a red polka-dot headscarf flexes an arm and says We can do it! It parodies the famous Second World War poster by J. Howard Miller, later popularly linked with Rosie the Riveter.

Bra nicknames, 2017: Sir Itch-a-Lot, Lumpy McBumpyson, Vlad the Impaler for the one with the escaping underwire, the Crumb Holder, Lil' Scrappy and the faded but beloved Old Faithful.

Networking event thoughts, drawn for Evernote: Why am I here? What if nobody talks to me? Should I be smiling more? And, most importantly, where are the snacks?

A single panel of a woman fleeing a pink cloud of pollen: the allergies begin to infiltrate. Hay fever season, told like a war film.

Bundled in a hat and scarf with an equally bundled pug, she apologises for the things she said when it was winter. A quiet joke about how much the seasons can affect mood.

Get Beach Body Ready parodies the 2015 Protein World advert that asked commuters on the London Underground whether they were beach body ready and caused widespread complaints. Her alternative instructions end with the best one: just go to the beach.

This year's best festival: Couchella, a sofa, crisps and two pugs. The name plays on Coachella, the well-known music festival in California.

Decision-making dice for her social life, with NO printed on every face. Anyone who cancels plans gratefully will understand.

A four-part comic showing anxiety, panic, depersonalisation and dizziness, each labelled with physical symptoms such as palpitations, sweaty palms and trembling. It is one of the clearest pieces in the set, showing that anxiety is felt in the body, not only in the mind.

The tug between I have to do all the things and Everything I do is crap appears once more to close the gallery, a fitting end for a collection about cycles of worry.
The themes that run through her work
Looking at the set as a whole, a few threads stand out. The biggest is anxious thinking: catastrophising, overthinking and social dread, often drawn as loops, maps or swarms of thought bubbles. Next come bodies that misbehave, from periods and bladders to colds and hay fever. And running through everything is comfort: blankets, crisps, cats and above all pugs, which act as a kind of emotional safety net in the drawings.
The style is consistent too: black ink, a single accent colour, handwritten labels and very little background. That economy is what makes the comics so easy to read on a phone screen, and so easy to share with a friend with a message like this is me.
If you enjoy these, you may also like DestinyBlue's illustrations, which explore similar feelings in a more colourful, symbolic way: DestinyBlue’s Illustrations: Colour, Symbols and Personal Expression.
Sources: Gemma Correll official website; Gemma Correll: About Me; Gemma Correll on Instagram; Gemma Correll on Twitter; Gemma Correll on Facebook. All illustrations © Gemma Correll.

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