Allowed

I've been trying to keep it positive, I have. But honestly, I've reached the point where I am crying and drinking the last little bit of my wine at 4:00 in the afternoon. Apart from this blog, I have kept a journal most of my whole life. I have volumes. They must be destroyed when I die. Remind me to put that in my will. But I am done … D   O   N   E.
I can't write everything that I wrote in my journal because god forbid, professionally, any of this comes back to bite me on the bottom, but there were numerous curse words, and here are some quotes, "I'm tired of not seeing my friends and co-workers and having a laugh. I hate that there's nothing to watch on tv and did I mention I make EVERY effing supper? and I don't have a box of wine, and I'm ugly and fat and my hair is horrible and I just want it all to be NORMAL again...." and it goes on from there. I was honestly sitting on a little piece of back porch where the sun hits it in a chair that caused me pain to move because I HURT the OTHER SIDE of my ribs by simply reaching across and putting all my weight on the arm of the chair in my pseudo "office" which isn't an office but part of my living room to grab a book that had fallen on the floor and when I heaved myself up and over and felt an ugly pain in my ribs on the other side (not the side I hurt when I tried to pull the rock out of the ground around 3 weeks ago, and what the hell is wrong with my ribs???? Can you have soft ribs?) and I was drinking the last little dribble of red wine out of a stemless glass that has a dividing line in the middle with the top side saying positive optimist, and the bottom saying negative  pessimist (for the whole glass half empty / half full way of looking at life and isn't that a joke????) and my son came around the back of the house to get a hose because we can't handle having a twenty year old doing bloody nothing with his time and he saw me crying and just knew and tried to do something funny with the cat to make me feel better which just made me cry more and then the wine was all gone and I came in the house to see my husband upside down on an inversion table thingy that he bought second hand because he has herniated discs in his neck which give him pain all the time and my daughter saw me and said, "oh, mom" and I said "don't, just leave me alone" and then I came upstairs to my bedroom and wrote in the journal and kept crying and then wrote this post, because surely I am NOT the only one who has these moments and I'm allowed to have these moments.   I'm not the only one, am I?