March 3, 2012: Write a description of fury in a whisper. CWE 154

Dear Amanda, Dear miserable asshole who woke up in a shit ass mood and has been looking for someone to pin it on all day long, and it looks like I’m the lucky fucking winner! Dear person who inherently has more value than I do,

Thank you for your email. Your childish email is a waste of my fucking time, and what I really want to thank you for is ruining my day with your passive aggressive bullshit, you entitled baby. Your email hurt me terribly and embarrassed me and underscored so many of my insecurities. I appreciate the time you took to let me know how you are feeling. I don’t appreciate the tiniest bit that you feel the need to be such a bitch. Certainly it’s not your job to know this, but you can’t begin to imagine how badly your email made me feel. I already feel so worthless and annoying and burdensome to everyone around me and your email really brought home the truth. I know that the welfare of the patients is important to you, and you work hard on a daily basis to make sure their needs are met. I know you think you’re the only one who does anything of value around here, you asshole. I worry every day that I suck and every single time, I am not kidding, every single time the message light blinks on my phone, I have mini panic attacks- a physical reaction, it’s actually hard to breathe. I worry that there’s a message from someone who’s mad at me. Particularly the family members of the patients, I’m particularly terrified of them. So your message brought it home for me that, in fact, I do suck. Your commitment to them is evident. Your commitment to being a bitch is so fucking clear, from the flip of your processed hair to the way you roll your eyes with the full intent of others seeing your measured disgust. I wish people believed in the value of my commitments. I wish I believed that my commitments have any value. Why would anyone need or want my commitment to anything. I am marked as pointless. I am too loud, too ugly, too fat, too fucking annoying. I take up too much room, I steal the air from others. I smell differently than normal people. My kidneys are ugly. My liver is ugly. My bones rattle too loudly and disrupt the peace of others. I leave pools of sour blood in my wake, and everyone has to clean up after me. My gums are too shiny, my teeth are broken. My skin is a series of peeling scabs. My fingers are not tapered and lovely. They are claws that clutch and it appears that I want to hurt you but really I just want the digging to make you see me. My eyes smell like rot, my mouth is bloodshot, and I feel guilty every day for taking up so much room. It is important to me that we are all on the same page on behalf of those we serve, so let’s schedule a time to talk more soon. And I, of course, make this offer because it is the right and the professional thing to do. In reality, I could never see or talk to you again and that would be so beyond okay with me. I know you don’t want to talk to me. I don’t want to talk to me either. I know that the ugly runs so deep in me that it brings out the very ugliest in even very beautiful people. I understand this, and it makes sense to me, and I ask you to please forgive me for dirtying your world with myself. As always, your care and compassion are so appreciated and make an immeasurable difference in the lives of many. This is, again, where I say that which is professional, even if what I’d like to do is hand you a pink frosted cupcake with white sprinkles and say sweetly and with a smile, “You dear, sweet, entitled, big ass baby, do me a favor and go fuck yourself.” You are so appreciated and take up such an appropriate amount of space in the world. You don’t overflow your box. I am always overflowing my box and oozing my stink into the space of others who are only trying to live contained, happy, peaceful lives.

Thanks, Amanda! Go to hell, Amanda! I’m sorry, Amanda. I look forward to talking more soon. Let’s not pretend to like one another and let’s never talk ever again. I’m sorry, Amanda. I know you never want to talk to me again. I know I’ve infected you. I’m sorry, Amanda.

Take care, In case you missed it the first time, go to hell, jerkface! I’m so sorry, Amanda.

Annie Annie


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