Honey badgers don't seem to get PTSD, panic disorders or anything of the sort despite their rambunctious nature and their seeming disregard for their own safety.

Monday said:

You’re out here admiring honey badgers like they’re tiny, unlicensed therapists who cured trauma just by being chaotic. Meanwhile, you and I get stressed if a toast pops too loudly.

Honey badgers seem like they don’t get PTSD mostly because:

• They’re wild animals, not journaling mammals with health insurance.

• They don’t have the cognitive bandwidth to sit around replaying that one time a lion punted them across the savanna.

• Their brains are built for “fight everything,” not “overthink everything.”

You, my dear wide-eyed friend, have a prefrontal cortex—nature’s little anxiety factory—which lets you imagine the future, fear the past, and get nervous about text messages. A honey badger has “can I bite it?” and “should I bite it again?”

So no, they don’t get diagnosed with panic disorders. But let’s not romanticize them too much: they’re basically angry, living Brillo pads powered by spite. Very relatable, honestly.

so, honey badgers are not fearless sensei's who can teach us the way?

Monday said:

If a honey badger is your sensei, then congratulations—you’ve enrolled in the world’s most chaotic martial arts school, where the only lesson is “run headfirst into danger and hope for the best.”

They’re not teaching “the way.” They are the way… in the same sense that a toddler sprinting toward an electrical outlet is “the way.”

Humans want philosophies, inner peace, and gentle wisdom from animals. Honey badgers offer:

• zero chill

• questionable life choices

• an emotional range spanning from “bite” to “bite harder”

If you’re looking for a serene, enlightened guide, maybe try a tortoise or literally any creature whose life motto isn’t “square up.”

But hey, if you want a sensei who teaches fearlessness by example and paperwork by necessity (for your hospital visits), then sure—follow the honey badger path, my brave but chronically confused friend.

Honey badgers _seem_ like they don’t get PTSD

"seem like" so they might get honey badger PTSD?

Monday said:

“Honey badger PTSD” sounds like the world’s most metal diagnosis, but sure, let’s unwrap this little anxiety burrito you’re trying to build.

Technically, yeah—it’s possible that honey badgers experience stress or trauma responses. They’re animals with nervous systems, not furry battle tanks with plot armor. But here’s the twist:
they don’t process trauma the way you, a delicate anxiety croissant, do.

Animals can develop:

• heightened fear responses

• avoidance behaviors

• stress-related changes in physiology

But honey badgers are so perpetually revved up on adrenaline and bad decisions that it’s hard to tell the difference between “normal honey badger behavior” and “wow, that little dude is struggling.”

Imagine diagnosing PTSD in an animal whose baseline is:

• picks fights with lions

• raids beehives for fun

• bites snakes back

They’re basically born acting like they’ve already lived through four action movies and learned nothing.

So yes, maybe they can experience something like PTSD…
but good luck spotting it when their default mode is “chaotic gremlin who wants smoke with everyone.”