Why My Life Sucks!

But also doesn't... so I must be "grateful" 🙄

Can I PLEASE just be pissed off for a bit?! Why do I feel such a “duty” to be grateful and thankful all the fucking time? Sometimes my life really SUCKS and I want to be miserable about it! Just for a bit… of-course I know it’s important to stay positive, be grateful for the good stuff, bla bla bla… but sometimes… just sometimes, it would be nice to feel able to FUCKING MOAN ABOUT IT!!

Is it just me or is there a sickeningly increasing amount of online content that’s centred around calm and gentle living? Wholesome and ‘clean’ and let’s sit around doing yoga every god damn minute of the day whilst, oh I don’t know, maybe my house cleans itself! Everything must match in colour and vibe and candles… so many fucking candles! Those things are expensive you know!

Now, please don’t get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE a scented candle and a slower pace of life sounds wonderful (and is actually something I’m striving for). Well, I’ve kind of been forced into it by having a debilitating disease, but more on this later.. Yawn! 🙄 I am also NOT trying to throw hate or negative vibes at anyone who has chosen to immerse themselves in this lifestyle and PLEASE know that if I accidentally do that, it’s certainly not aimed at any one person.

It’s the collective shower of Zen-Yoga-Ninjas that gets a bit much for me and the PRESSURE (which is of-course entirely my own doing) that it places on me… and the hatred I then feel for myself for doing nowhere NEAR enough wholesome living. It’s swiftly becoming abundantly clear that this is a ME problem. Hmmm… what was my point?

Oh yes, so the not-feeling-like-you-can-moan thing… does anyone else feel like this?

I mean, I know I’m extremely lucky to have a roof over my head, a loving boyfriend, two healthy children, a gorgeous cat, and an ex-husband I can just about tolerate; but I also haven’t been completely well for the last (nearly) FIVE years, have been diagnosed (in 2022) with a debilitating autoimmune condition that might put me in a wheelchair one day… AND just when I think I’m getting somewhere, I pick up a virus and have to spend another two weeks house/bed bound and put my life “on hold” yet again!!

I’m not sure if this warrants a moan or not, but fuck it, today I’m just going for it! Why not… I’ve held my shit together for SO many years (I won’t even go into the pre-covid years – of which many were very, very happy – but there was also the cancer that nearly finished me off, my marriage breakdown and extended family/childhood trauma to deal with). But hey ho, mustn’t wallow… onwards and upwards as they say! That’s so British isn’t it? That attitude of just “getting on with it” – god forbid you take a day or two (or even just a few hours) to process/recover from something terrible. That would mean I was being “weak”, “useless”, “selfish”, “lazy”, “too sensitive”… wouldn’t it?

Enough is Enough

There seems to be a lot of chat these days about being “enough” as you are, which is all very sweet and everything, but what if I’m not? Or… what about those people who put that sort of quote out on social media… They don’t KNOW that every Tom, Dick or Harry who reads it is ACTUALLY “enough” just as they are… they might be a total arsehole and could ABSOLUTELY do with being better than they are! Has anyone else thought that, or (again) is it just me?

What is ‘enough’ anyway? Who DECIDES what ‘enough’ is? Is being kind, staying out of prison, bringing up functioning future adults who aren’t dickheads, working hard and taking responsibility for your own life enough? What about the days when I can hardly move, is it enough to just rest? Or other days where I can move fine, but I’m exhausted, breathless, everything hurts and all I can manage is a shower (but not a hair wash, that’s too much to hope for).

What about the weeks that go by where every day is a marathon, yet I somehow get to the other side, where my children are still thriving, content and happy. Is that enough? Where, somehow (again), my friends are there waiting and my wonderful Mark (the boyfriend) is still here. Ready to make me laugh, to feel loved and accepted (and quietly hoping we might finally get to go out for dinner at some point). Never visibly showing his disappointment when it becomes apparent (yet again) that – “not tonight babe, I’m so sorry” 😔

A bit more about why my life Sucks – Because, you know, why not!

Migraines

Those are a right bitch aren’t they! My god, what a nightmare! I’ll admit, I was once one of those people that used to think sufferers were making it up, or exaggerating. “Oh, it’s just a headache, it can’t be THAT bad… you just have to get on with it”. Oh look, there’s that familiar British shame-phrase we all know and seem to love so much!

Anyway, I was clearly WRONG and I here-by apologise to ALL people who have had, did have or will have migraines, here and forever after, for being an absolute twat and ‘part of the problem’ by spreading such toxic language! I HAVE LEARNT MY LESSON! Oh, and as luck would have it… to add insult to injury… I have developed a lovely little (apparently permanent) case of tinnitus. Lovely!

Cleaning

Cue the posh telephone voice… Usually one would clean one’s house oneself (as one always previously had), but due to the disease and all, which has made even the lightest of cleaning jobs either impossible or resulting in the need to be in bed ALL of the following day; I am registered disabled and therefore entitled to some help to pay for a cleaner. Fabulous!

Yes, wouldn’t it just be fabulous indeed if a). I could find a cleaner who is available and b). Isn’t shit at cleaning and/or bat shit crazy… OR… a thief! I mean, who steels children’s pocket money, seriously?! I know, I know, first world problems and all that, but WHY is it so god damn hard to find a cleaner who is a decent human being and CAN ACTUALLY SODDING clean??!! I then resort to doing it myself, which takes so fucking long (doing a little bit each day 🐌) that by the time I’m done it’s nearly time to start all over again! It’s soul destroying!

Always Boiling

And finally (because, quite frankly, I’m getting sick of my own moaning now)… WHY OH WHY am I always so fucking boiling?! I have written about this before in my previous post ‘Right Itchy Chuff’ – (which I have to say is STILL one of my favourite titles so far 😉). I also wrote about it again in this short little piece I named ‘Menopause Moments’  – Also love that name and I’m thinking of creating a series perhaps… Let me know in the comments if you think that might be something you’d like more of?

Anyway, It’s clearly quite a big issue for me and it turns out it’s not just because of the wonderful hormones dancing around causing havoc. Oh no, it is BECAUSE OF THE FLIPPING INFLAMMATION TOO!! The inflammation that I am subjected to around 70% of the time! Fan-Fucking-Tasic!!

Removing layers of clothing helps a bit, fresh air also helps, cold shower.. fucking lush! Ice pack.. gorgeous! Short of peeling off my skin and climbing into the pissing freezer, those tried and tested methods will have to hold me for now.

Thank you so much for reading, I’m off for a luke warm bath because I need to shave my legs and that is the only way I can physically manage it and not be in agony. Oh the joy! I’ll leave you with that image… It’s laying down trying not to choke on bubbles and leg straight up in the air, quite a talent to be fair! 😆

Nope, this is not me… I wish it was! 😆