Thursday, June 23, 2016

Blanket Fuck You Letter

My blanket Fuck you Letter:

Dear ________,

This morning I drove to work smiling and listening to songs that made me want to dance and laugh and run off to the beach instead of going to work. I giggled at the people staring at me when they drove by because I was singing loud and proud along with the radio. I felt heartily compelled not to go to work today. But I went anyway. I felt compelled to pick up the phone and yell at some people, but I didn’t. I felt compelled to go back home and crawl in bed, but I didn’t. I felt compelled to go somewhere and throw things at someone, but I didn’t. I felt compelled to keep driving and get on a plane at DFW and disappear, but I didn’t. I turned up the radio and I sang loud and laughed and giggled and went to work. Because, that’s what I do. I go on. I move forward. I push those feelings aside and I smile and laugh and dance and go to work and come home and do whatever it takes to make myself not do all those other things. And you know what? FUCK YOU! For the shit you’ve said to me. About me. For your judgment and disappointment and your BULLSHIT words and your blaming and dwelling and resentment and disowning and backstabbing and LYING. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU!

Let me lay this shit out for you:

I have been married to three abusive assholes and a mentally ill drug addict and divorced FOUR fucking times. I have had to completely start my life over from fucking scratch SIX times. I’ve had to “disappear” to get away from someone who was threatening my life TWICE. I’ve had to leave everything comfortable behind over and over and over again. I’ve had to let go of people, places, things, jobs, money, husbands, security, family, EVERYTHING that people hold on to with all their might OVER and OVER again. I’ve been beaten, raped, abused in every manner even conceived by people who were supposed to “love” me. I have been told about TEN THOUSAND TIMES what a stupid, ugly, fat, horrible, mean, psycho, disgusting, horrible, intolerable, mentally ill, et fucking cetera. I’ve been called a bad mother more times than I could even begin to count. I’ve been called a disgrace, an embarrassment, a shame, a failure, an awful woman and human in every sense of the word. I’ve been blamed for things I wouldn’t do, things I didn’t do, and things other people did. I’ve been shamed for doing the right thing and praised for giving up and doing the wrong thing. I’ve been stepped on and pushed aside and ignored and attacked. There are FEW things that a woman can go through that I cannot say “been there.” And guess what? I am in a happy, healthy relationship for the first time in my fucking life with someone who is ACTUALLY NICE to me and would literally KILL anyone who did any of the above things to me. So F U C K  Y O U!
I have some godawful fucking diseases. This afternoon, after I go home from work, I’m going to take a needle and inject it into my thigh like I do every Thursday. This morning I took my 8 morning pills. Tomorrow, I’m going to muster the strength I have and grab a cup of coffee and I’m going to go to work packing up my house to move somewhere where I WANT TO BE with the people I WANT TO BE WITH. I’ll hope that my FOUR DEBILATATING, CHRONIC, LIFELONG, LIFE SUCKING diseases won’t act up too much and I can get at least MOST of the shit I need to get done, DONE. And if they do act up. I will do what I can and then I’ll go watch Netflix and NOT APOLOGIZE FOR IT. BECAUSE FUCK YOU!

Two years ago, I moved to Mexico. I didn’t DREAM about it. Or WISH I could do it. I FUCKING DID IT. I went from envying people who did it to BEING SOMEONE WHO DID IT.  I’ve crossed out over HALF of my Bucket List and COUNTING… I’ve EXPERIENCED things I WANTED to experience and I intend to NOT STOP until I’m DEAD. So FUCK YOU! 

Through all the shit that was going on in my life for the past TWENTY YEARS, I managed THREE THINGS.

 I managed to get one HELL of an education and collect at least 6 different career options. All of which I could chuck out the window to work at Sea World if the mood struck me. Because that’s WHO I AM!!!! And I FUCKING LIKE ME! So FUCK YOU!

And I managed to raise my sons despite it ALL. I was not a perfect mother. I was, as a matter of fact, an extremely imperfect mother. And I continue to be. And THAT’S OK! But you know what? I taught my kids right from wrong. I gave them an example of what STRENGTH REALLY LOOKS LIKE. No matter how much they may want to complain NOW, I took them to experience life in another country. I have showed them how to ADAPT. I protected them so much from the SHIT of my life that they actually BELIEVE that me yelling at them or some man calling me a bitch ONE time is ABUSE. LET THAT FUCKING SINK IN. THIS is what THEY believe is abuse. They have NO IDEA what abuse REALLY looks like… They have NO IDEA how bad shit CAN BE Because I PROTECTED THEM FROM REAL ABUSE. SO  FUCK YOU EXTRA!

And GODDAMMIT. I managed to get in my car this morning, put some happy songs on the radio and fucking smile and laugh NO MATTER WHAT. Because I don’t give two fucks what happened to me yesterday or what disease I have or what judgmental BULLSHIT I have to listen to OR that my 17 year old is being a total teenage JERK right now. I don’t care WHO is pissed that I’m moving WHEREVER I WANT and who is TOTALLY BUTTHURT that I won’t apologize for it. I smiled. I laughed. I didn’t throw anything at anyone. I’m not in the mental institution. I’m not a bitter bitch who hates all men, and people, and lettuce and telephones and EVERY GODDAMNED THING.  I could be. I have every GODDAMNED RIGHT to be one of those people. But I AM NOT.  I’m one of those people who gets in the car, does whatever it takes to smile and be positive, and then goes to work fully contented.

So, FUCK YOU! And I forgive you. And I love you. And I wish you everything good. Because, that’s WHO I AM. Assholes.

Namaste, 
Shano


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