Stages I go through in a breakup*
(*not in any order whatsoever. *reserve the right to revisit bulletpoints)
- Singing loudly with Annie Lennox, Aretha Franklin, Pink and Carrie Underwood while driving –
am strong empowered woman who needs no man
- Fetal position, rocking back and forth muttering things to the dog – am certain no will ever love me, that my hair will never behave respectably, that my feet are just plain ugly and I should just give up now and become a cat lady
- Cool. I’m, like totally cool. No, actually I’m so important and so busy with all my important busy life things that I have no time to do anything buy my very important things that really just take up all of my time. Lord I just have no time to be worried about such trivial things! Am important, very busy person, anybody can see that, also I like wearing my pants inside out.
- Fuck it. Fuck absolutely all of it. Fuck all of it somuch that I’m going to sit here and eat ice cream – NOT low fat or froyo, but FULL fat Ben and Fucking Jerry’s ice cream, AND I’m going to eat it straight from the container sitting on the couch at 11pm, because I can, okay??? Am so damn happy that no man will ever see me naked again that I’m gonna sit here and my godamm ice cream, okay?
- Obsessively checking WhatsApp to see who’s online and when. Not because I care, I
just happened to pick up my phone. Am totally in control here, and do not care when anyone is on line and not sending me messages. Do not care even a tiny bit. Absolutely did not just check my messages just now. - Hang out with hot 30somethings. Decide right after gorgeous blonde in short shorts says, hey you’re my mom’s age, you look good and that’s what’s really important that I need to hang with my 50something friends maybe a little more.
- Make empowered decision to go see all Marvel/Xmen/Star Trek movies by myself, because dammit I am an empowered and free woman who needs no man to go to movies with. Also I can eat all the damn popcorn myself.
- Buy a parrot, because… because honestly I’ve got nothing here, but I did buy a parrot who is learning to dance and sing to Brittany Spear’s Work Bitch, so that’s pretty entertaining.
- Revisit the ‘Empowered/Fetal/Fuck All of Things’ Cycle for a few more rounds.
- Journal, Meditate just like Mastin Kipp says I’m suppose to, because you know he’s a 30something who is apparently enlightened, or at least has a book and a blog and sends messages on YouTube from Maui on how to cope with heartbreak. (aside – he would likely frown benevolently on a few of my other coping mechanisms)
- Fail spectacularly and not being petty and bitter. Journal about greater than average pettiness and bitterness. Meditate on super charged petty bitter non enlightened behavior that would disappoint Mastin.
- Wonder if I should share any of this with my therapist, but then worry she will think less of me, then wonder if maybe I am not approaching this correctly. Decide I’m fine, and will tell my therapist so.
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- Draw picture. Write poems. Mock picture and poem. Buy $50 worth of art supplies to colour picture. Continue to mock now coloured in picture.
- Buy cute dress, because Fuck it.
- Buy new bra, because really Fuck it
- Buy groovy top that 30somethings wouldn’t be caught dead in, but would probably say would look good on someone my age.
- Look at bank account balance. Berate self over apparent complete lack of self control.
- Remember that my birthday is in a week.
- Fuck all the thoughts about what to do on your birthday. Will pretend to ignore the damn thing this year, and secretly stuff face with cupcakes and Ben and Jerry’s.
- Re-examine feet. Decide they are the ugliest feet that have ever existed. Wear open toed sandals anyway, because Fuck it, no one will ever see me naked again, so why worry about ugly feet. Right moving on.
- Wonder why you have to write all this shite only after midnight, and not in the morning like normal writers.
- Debate major hair cut vs finally embracing dreads. Buy more hair product because bank account still had a few dollars in it. Decide that stress increases frizz, and hair products with cool smelling ingredients will decrease stress.
- Write self depreciating blog, spends hours writing and rewriting it, finding pictures and clever gifs and memes instead of sleeping, because sleep is for wimps and people who have to have passable hair, pretty toes, and who don’t eat Ben and Jerry’s at midnight, who don’t need to sing Carrie Underwood in the car.
yeah, I’m still figuring this stuff out. And that’s okay. I suppose…. mostly.
Zen Bitch 