A World War Three Survival Guide

So… the world’s on fire. Again.

Maybe you’ve noticed the ominous headlines, the mushroom cloud memes, or the subtle tension in your group chat that now includes at least one friend making “just in case” jokes about learning to farm.

Whether you’re actively doomscrolling or have simply accepted that the end times will arrive before your Amazon order does, this guide is here to help.

Because while we can’t stop World War Three, we can face it with a well-packed go-bag, a questionable plan, and enough sarcasm to make the fallout feel personal.

🧳 1. Pack Like It’s the Apocalypse—Because It Is

Let’s start with your bug-out bag, a.k.a. your “oh no, it’s happening” backpack. No, you can’t bring your cat’s entire wardrobe. Yes, snacks are essential.

Essentials:

• Flashlight + batteries
• Bottled water (1L per day if you’re optimistic)
• First aid kit
• Prescription meds (especially the ones that keep you from screaming at walls)
• Cash
• ID copies in a waterproof bag
• Snacks you’d die for (literally)
• Lighter or waterproof matches
• Power bank

Optional, but highly vibe-affirming:

• Comfort object (ex’s hoodie, tarot deck, your last shred of dignity)
• Something to trade (alcohol, pads, memes)

🏚️ 2. Choose Your Bunker Wisely

Location is survival.

Go for:

• Underground or interior rooms, no windows
• Rural spaces with clean water and garden potential
• Basements that scream “serial killer” but protect from fallout

Avoid:

• Anything “important” (airports, city centres, political buildings)
• Your parents’ house (unless they’re chill under pressure)

🫂 3. Make Friends or Form a Softcore Cult

Nobody survives a dystopia alone—not even Katniss.

Your ideal apocalypse crew includes:

• A nurse
• Someone who can grow food without killing it
• A practical engineer
• One chaotic good protector
• The emotionally stable friend who still remembers birthdays

Give your group a name. “The Scavenging Scaries” is a great place to start.

🧠 4. Manage Your Mental Health (Or Try to)

Let’s be honest, we’re already not okay. Adding nuclear tension just feels rude.

Try:

• Grounding exercises (look around and name five things not on fire)
• Breathwork (inhale peace, exhale panic)
• Screaming into a pillow—low-tech, high impact
• Journaling, if you're brave
• Crying, but in a hot way

You’re surviving a literal war. Give yourself some credit for brushing your teeth today.

🔧 5. Learn Basic Skills (While WiFi Exists)

Now is the time to gain some mildly feral skills.

• How to purify water without poisoning yourself
• Stop bleeding without fainting
• Grow things (no, succulents don’t count)
• Forage without hallucinating
• Barter without being annoying

And: how to say “no” to Jeff when he offers unsolicited bunker advice.

👀 6. Don’t Be the Main Character

This is not a Netflix special. You are not the hero. You are the emotionally resilient background character who lives.

To stay alive:

• Don’t monologue
• Don’t explore abandoned malls
• Don’t take risks for dramatic effect
• DO keep your head down and your duct tape handy

🧂 7. Be Petty, Stay Alive

If we’re going down, let’s go down spicy.

• Eat dessert first
• Block your toxic ex
• Steal batteries from your least favorite neighbor
• Leave passive-aggressive signs

Sometimes pettiness is self-care.

🌱 8. Final Thoughts (If You’re Still Here)

Yes, the world might be ending. But you’re still here.

Still making lists. Still packing snacks. Still laughing through it all.

And that? That’s survival.

🔚 TL;DR (Too Long, Doom Read)

• Pack your meds, snacks, and duct tape
• Hide somewhere underground and unimpressive
• Build your team of weirdos
• Take care of your brain
• Don’t try to be the hero
• Learn to grow potatoes or purify puddles
• Laugh, cry, survive
• Don’t die

Liked this chaotic little survival guide?

Leave a tip, share it with your anxious group chat, and follow No One’s Daughter for more end-of-the-world realism and millennial resilience.

We can’t stop the apocalypse—but we can face it with snacks, sarcasm, and the occasional petty vendetta.

Stay salty. Stay alive.

(And maybe start hoarding tampons. Just a thought.)