I have loathed almost every.single.second of this year that instead of an advent calendar counting down the days to my typically fave day of the year – Christmas (I mean, second to my birthday of course), I’m counting the days (30), hours (720), minutes (how do I compute this?) and seconds (for real, I can’t do math that well) and milliseconds (who can help me out here?).
This year did start off on a fabulous high-heeled foot with smiles, champagne and high hopes of a bright and shiny new year.
But somehow, this year just took a big dump on almost everyone I know.
For me the sparkle of 2016 lasted about 24 hours. Family drama involving cops, divorce, death of a young friend, bad shit happening to a good person (that would be moi), and still on the hunt for a job – all squeezed in on or before January 27, 2016.
If someone would have told me what the next 11 months entailed, I would have punched myself in the face, possibly crawled into an oven set to broil or figured out how to construct a time machine into the future (although I would need help with the dimensions portion of this project due to the aforementioned horrible math skills).
So, here’s the kick off to my Fuck Off 2016 countdown to better days for everyone I know ahead.
Fuck you for making me feel ashamed of myself to which was no fault of my own.
Fuck you for a culture of victim ignoring, shaming, and turning the other cheek when convenient.
Fuck you for taking the happy, the uncompromising confidence, the pride, the sparkle, the light, the love out of a girl who has never known any different.
Fuck you for taking away my ability to give a rat’s ass about my appearance to the outside world.
No really, fuck you. I mean me in no make-up in public….I think it’s been since 7th grade.
Fuck you for the seven months of sleepless nights on my leopard couch because being alone with my thoughts became unbearable due to an act on one single night.
Fuck you for the lasting post traumatic stress disorder, severe adjustment disorder and extremely delayed response to that event I’ve been trying to cope with over the last 11 months.
Fuck you for the pile of emotions that creep and sneak and fall from the sky at unexpected moments that are bigger than the goddamn mountain of laundry I avoid doing.
Seriously fuck you. I’ve never been a crier.
But fuck you for real 2016! I just.can’t.stop.
Fuck. Even Ted got into the emotional mix.
Fuck you for making my cortisol levels soar, my energy plummet, allowing my anxiety take over, laziness to kick in, sleeplessness be a constant and for making my diet consist of mainly Pepto Bismol, Aleve and carbohydrates.
Fuck you for taking away my excitement for my most wonderful time of the year…celebrating any and everything.
Fuck you for the Halloween fail.
Fuck you for the sucking the Christmas spirit out of my soul (except my Clark Griswold glass, of course).
Fuck you for the lonely feeling of fight – but the fierce (while faint) is still in me and ready to kick some ass.
And so, the countdown for me, for you, for the upside down world we live in at the moment is on. I say we commit to a bottle of bubbly per Fuck You 2016 countdown day.
Who’s with me?!?