Fuck this

Warning; this post is a serious, personal and venting one, and it contains bad language like the words Fuck and Cunt. Well, I did warn you.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com
Fuck this

Fuck this. I am fed up with this whole situation now. I want my life back. Nothing grand, just normal life. Going to work, buying a sandwich, riding the bus, being happy, being normal, being able to laugh and joke with my kids, missing them during the day and saying goodbye in the mornings knowing they’ll be at school, then coming home from work and being hugged and giggled at before dinner.

Fuck pandemics and all the crap they bring. I have endured so much shit under this pandemic, and I don’t mean Covid shit, I mean normal shit which Covid has made even shitter, and stopped me being able to deal with.

Fuck cancer and the limited access to my dying mother who had it; fuck that she had to have a terribly restricted funeral with less than a handful of her many friends in attendance; fuck not being able to visit her grave or sell her house because of Covid travel restrictions.

Fuck my own cancer scare, with tests and check ups drawn out to 8-9 week waits where it would normally be 5 days. And having to fight and fail to physically see a GP with my concerns, making do with 10 minute telephone appointments. False alarm though it turned out to be, the mental anguish and worry it all caused me was true enough to drive me to the brink. I lost my mother and father both to that monster and it seemed real likely it was coming for me, too.

Fuck being ill. Fuck throwing up 3-5 times a day. Fuck gastrointestinal sickness. I don’t need it. I have enough on. Can’t you give me a fucking break here.

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Fuck depression

Fuck depression and fuck anti depressants; taking them, coming off them, all of it. Poison to kill poison, it was never going to work. Nor did I truly need it. I mostly took the damn stuff to shut everyone else up. I was right to resit, it turns out. Did me more harm than good, no fucking doubt about it. So fuck everyone who doubted me. I know my own fucking body.

Dads, working from home, I'm with you, brothers.

Fuck being couped up in the house with my wife and kids, though I love them more than life itself, I hate being stuck indoors with them for weeks on end, going nuts, shouting at each other and making each other cry because we have ‘cabin fever’ and irritate the fuck out of each other now and cannot leave the house and cannot get away from each other and cannot do anything we want to do as individuals or as a family. Dads, working from home, I’m with you, brothers. I’m with you.

Photo by Josh Hild on Pexels.com
Cabin fever

Fuck my setup, the numbness and zoned-out feeling of distance and separation I get every day when working remotely in my son’s bedroom because that’s the only place I can use my work PC when the kids are downstairs ‘home schooling’, (ie. screaming at each other and their mother). Fuck the bitterness and resentment from my wife when she blames me for not being involved enough in the children’s education and accuses me of ‘not wanting to be a father’ (just about the worst thing you can ever say to a father, btw). And then like a balloon of sadness, she bursts me with another childish insult and I lose it and tell her to FUCK OFF. And then I walk randomly around estate in the cold night air trying to calm down while simultaneously trying not to pass out, fall over or vomit from feeling ill.

Fuck Brexit, fuck Brexit, fuck Brexit. And one more for luck, FUCK BREXIT.

Hypocrites, liars, charlatans and downright cunts, all of them.

In fact, for that matter, fuck politics and all the people who wind me up and make me angry and make me shout at the radio or at the internet or the television. Fuck the lot of them. No idea what world they are living in but it’s not mine. Hypocrites, liars, charlatans and downright cunts, all of them. My patience has been exhausted, and in truth that happened a few years back.

Fuck this virus and what it does to us all, physically when we get it, and mentally when we don’t. As this post demonstrates, it’s sapping away our mental health, our stability. Fuck the government for not having the slightest whiff of a plan to tackle it, ignoring the catalog of deathly mistakes while patting themselves on the back for the most futile of wins, even as the clock ticks over and another thousand graves are dug. Fuck everyone who voted for them and still would again.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Bring back normal, all is forgiven.

I want to moan about ordinary shit.

I want to moan about ordinary shit like the bus being late, about a deadline at work, about the queue at the supermarket. I want to laugh at stupid things again, I want my children to get an actual education again, not this weak-ass substitute we dare call home schooling (It is nothing of the sort).

I want my wife to like me again, to no longer be sick of my face because we are both always at home together. I want her to never, ever, ever doubt that I love my children or her more than anything but that I have to deal with things my way and in my own space.

I want to eat a sandwich and not puke it up within seconds. God I miss sandwiches.

I want to spend a day without ever thinking once about what the hell is wrong with my mind or body, at all, not for one second.

I want to gossip at the coffee machine, to eat pizza in front of Netflix and enjoy it, I want to put on weight and worry I am too fat, like the old days, instead of dreading the loss of yet another kilo as if I were losing a kilo of my very self each week.

I want to walk around the supermarket without being masked; without fear of infecting myself or others, without feeling guilty or questioning whether my shopping is ‘essential’. I want to browse a book shop or a record shop, or sit in Costa’s with a large latte and my laptop, just because I am free to do that. I want to do all these little, normal, everyday things.

Like so many of us, my normal has to change now.
Has normal finished?

But I can’t. So I guess, like so many of us, my normal has to change now. Maybe it’s time to let go of what was, and accept what is. To stop saying fuck this and start figuring out how I can adapt, to live this way forever.

Nah.

Fuck this.

3 thoughts on “Fuck this

  1. Wow, man. This is tough. I thought it brave if you to be out there. Hope that you can find a place to house these feelings and that you can be ok, despite the shit. I always remember the line it is okay not to be okay. Even in my dotage I find breathing helps. Take care.

    Like

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