The 5 Stages of Grief (When Trying to Secure Taylor Swift Concert Tickets)

Earlier this week, Swifties around the world gathered in front of their computer screens, hoping to nab tickets to Taylor Swift's Eras Tour—her first tour in five years and her latest exciting development following the release of her tenth studio album, Midnights.

As fans grabbed their red scarves and their cardigans, rubbed their cats in their laps and even set all the clocks around the house to midnight just to *set the scene,* little did they know what they had in store for them: tears, heartbreak, frustration, screaming, anxiety. All the elements for a perfect T-Swift breakup song, actually.

“And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry.” - “Mad Woman,” folklore

When its time for the second presale and you find yourself waiting for another three hours, soon your blood starts to boil as if someone is interrupting your moment at the VMAs.

How could I have been waiting for this long and still have no tickets? How many people could possibly be in front of me? It's the middle of a Wednesday! Surely some of these people should be at work, and kids should be in school.

Granted, you took a very long lunch break and told your boss that you had a doctor's appointment, because technically, miss Swift did receive her honorary doctorate last spring. So, it wasn't a total lie. But, there's no way that everyone else did the same.

Before you know it, your anger blurs your vision and you can't even see the screen anymore. You curse all the tweens who are stealing the seats that you deserve. You consider sending spiteful texts to your friends who you know already got their tickets. You send a tweet that says, “I loathe you @ticketmaster,” except, deep down you know it will only be read by a beleaguered social media intern.

“No deal.” - “Lavender Haze,” Midnights

Okay, two days have passed and you still don't have tickets. No worries, no need to panic. Just take a deep breath. As Taylor Swift says on Fearless: “Breeeeathe.”

You start texting everyone you know and seeing if they have any extra tickets. “I'll babysit your kids for free for the rest of my life,” you message your thirtysomething cousin who you haven't talked to in years, but you saw on Facebook that they secured tickets for their daughter and her friends. “If someone has a Taylor Swift ticket to offer, I'll clean every inch of your home with a toothbrush, three times over...every week for all time” you write on a pleading Instagram Story.

“Can you even recite all the lyrics to ‘Beautiful Eyes’?” you judgmentally say to your friend who got lower bowl seats. Then, quickly realizing your mistake, you offer: “If you trade me these tickets, I'll steal a priceless piece of jewelry for you—it'll look like it came right out of the ‘Look What You Made Me Do’ music video” (you assure them that you know a guy who works at Harry Winston).

“When my depression works the graveyard shift...” - “Anti-Hero,” Midnights

Now, that line from Midnights where TayTay says “Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness,” is really starting to resonate. After 48 hours of madness, endless hours spent on Ticketmaster and many texts sent commiserating with your friends who also didn't get tickets, the sorrow has really set in.

Ticketmaster just announced that they're canceling the general sale because of “insufficient remaining ticket inventory to meet [the] demand.” And now, you're not sure how you're going to get your hands on those stubs.

So, you wrap yourself in your Red (Taylor's Version) blanket, and decide to play the saddest T-Swift song you can think of—maybe “Last Kiss” or “All Too Well.” You pull out your guitar, just so you can let your teardrops fall on it (and boy do they ricochet). It's a sad picture.

“So I'll walk out of here tonight / Try to go on with my life.” - “Don’t You,” Red (Taylor's Version)

After days of chaos, and still no tickets in hand, you finally reach a place of acceptance. You see that Taylor has released a statement, and she said, “It's truly amazing that 2.4 million people got tickets, but it really pisses me off that a lot of them feel like they went through several bear attacks to get them.” And she adds, “I'm trying to figure out how this situation can be improved moving forward.”

You appreciate that she still brings her usual level of humor and honesty, and you have hope that you might still be able to get those highly-sought-after tickets. (I mean, if worst comes to worst, you've still got a kidney to sell so you can afford a resale stub.)

Also, this is the same woman who removed her music from Spotify for years because they weren't paying creators enough. The same woman who is currently re-recording her first six studio albums in a savvy effort to have control of her music. If anyone can find a solution that pleases fans and challenges the system, it's probably Taylor Swift. And if not, well, you might just have to fight your cousin's kids for some tickets.

Want all the latest entertainment news sent right to your inbox? Click here.