Dealing with life can sometimes be a pain in the arse. Shit happens. Shit happens that we wish did not happen. Sadly some of that shit is inevitable.
Last week I had a near miss after dropping the kids at school. Some dick wad drove through a give way sign and I had to put my foot down and drive around him or get hit. I was still shaking when I got to the supermarket deli where I regularly chat with the lady behind the counter.
Our conversation went like this.
“How are you today”
“A bit shaky actually, some dick wad just tried to clean me up”
“Did you report it?”
“Well, yes, not at first, but I drove past the ute again after the incident and wound down my window, and said what happened mate? This bloke said I wasn’t driving, and then drove off flipping me the bird as he did so. If he had of apologised I might not have reported it.”
“Not good enough honey, what if he had cleaned you up. Your two kids would be without their mum, people die, but it’s supposed to be when they are old and ready.”
This really hit me hard. It made me think of the times I wish that I might not wake up tomorrow. The reality of living with mental illness means that this does go through my head. I am not going to deny that I have wished for the easy way out when I allow myself to let my thoughts get out of control. My brave and strong inner voice would be telling be to get my shit together and remember how fucking amazing I am, and how much I can give to the world. My weak, frail inner voice says horrid stuff to me all the time about how I am useless, how much happier my family would be without me yelling at them all the time, how much happier my husband would be without me bitching at him. Of course that is true, but imagine how devastated my BC6 and GC8 and would be if I was suddenly not in my world.
So thank you Dick Wad. Thanks for nearly smashing into me. Thanks for the reality check.