I was fine. I was good. I didn't eat any ice cream last night or this morning, I didn't peek out the window every time I heard a car door close hoping he was coming to say it isn't over, that an impostor has been posting as him online and he really couldn't get to me because he was tied up in a basement. I have spent the past 3 days fine, happy, good.
I got a tattoo and talked about the holy trinity of female conversation (Makeup, Men and Motherhood) half of Friday. I ate fried dough and talked to a dear friend who gets me and laughed at the kinds of things normal people don't find funny. I didn't even blog for the love of fuck... I was healed.
And until half an hour ago, I was fine. Then suddenly the sick feeling started, and out it came-- gallons of snot and tears and miserable sobbing. 20 straight fucking minutes of body shuddering can't breathe face drenching blubbering.
This had better have been the fucking end of it: My blog is getting way boring.
About Nanda Sue
- Amanda Kershner
- South Bend, Indiana
- A 38 year old single mother turned wife and stepmother, and over-thinker, my anxiety disorder is more than just acute...it's the cutest. I am a tish bitter, neurotic and well meaning in sometimes equal parts, and am prone to cattiness, wordplay, run-on sentences and misspelling.
