However, she said, "Fuck it!"- as she threw her hands in the air in a nonchalant, carefree way. Nonchalant and carefree is NOT the way I've been using the word. I've been using it as an adjective for emphasis (fucking husband, fucking dog, fucking bills). Although her use of the word was correct (if there is a 'correct usage' for a 3 year old to use the word 'fuck'-which there probably isn't, so I'm setting a precedent here)- she found that context all on her own! We are not a carefree type here. We are uptight, all wound up, and high strung. I hate it, but that's who we are. Many comments from my last few posts mentioned 'how hard I am on myself'. I sure am and I don't like it.
I could be in a store and see a child throwing a fit and the mother would be cool as a cucumber and just deal with it. I would not. First, my kids know what a basket case I am and usually know my breaking point so it probably wouldn't escalate to a tantrum in a public place. Nonetheless, it's that high expectation I have of myself, my home, my kids, my life.
I struggle with my weight. Who doesn't? When I see people that are overweight and seemingly happy, I wonder what they have that I don't in their internal makeup that makes them OK with it. I'm missing that part- the screw's not even loose, the part is long gone!
This standard I set for my life is too high, I know that and it's tiring trying to keep up with it, I really know that! I know what I have to do and I really gave it the old college try today, but why does it have to be so fucking hard to get my hands on some drugs?
I made some calls today to psychiatrists that are covered in my insurance plan. After having to jump through a few flaming circus hoops, I finally got a hold of one that accepts new patients. Wow, well I think we can see you on Sept. 18, we just had a cancellation! Cue the waterworks. I can't wait an entire month! You'd think the fact that I started crying and asking her if she was serious or just being cruel and rambling about how I just need someone to write out a 'fucking script for Xanax', she'd realize how desperate I was... or no, come to think of it, she probably thought I was a total junkie.