I am pretty sure by now we all know that none of us have any fucks left to give.
I would estimate that I have seen at least 27,000 memes with variations of ‘I have no fucks to give’ as the central message. I alone am responsible for re-posting at least 13,000 of them.
When I say I have no fucks to give, what I am saying is I really don’t want to have any fucks to give, but in reality I have a few fucks left. Personally, I find great beauty in ‘I don’t give a fuck’. There is glorious freedom in those words. Also, it’s terribly satisfying to say.
To me, ‘I don’t give a fuck’ doesn’t mean that I don’t care about anything. I care about a lot of things and I want to continue caring. Caring makes life worth living. What the phrase means to me is letting go of caring about the things that do me no good. We all have our own personal lists of things we would like to stop giving a fuck over, but I would be willing to bet that most people have ‘caring about what other people think’ and ‘obsessing over personal appearance’ on their lists.
What I need are some sorts because I am completely out of them.
If I am honest, since I left my old job, I have to say that anxiety has been kicking my ass.
I don’t want my old job back, I just want to feel like the world is my world again. I feel like I’ve been living in an alternate dimension for months now.
To me, anxiety feels like the panic I felt when I got stuck under a pool slide.
We used to go to a pool in Northern Kentucky called Pleasure Isle. It wasn’t a circulating pool. The deep end was sand and the shallow end was concrete. Pleasure Isle’s murky water reminded me of swimming in a lake at the state park.
There were slides in the shallow end set in concrete, but you could swim under them. Well, kids who could swim could swim under them. Kids like me just floated up and got trapped underneath. I was submerged in water and I couldn’t get out from under the slide. That memory is still crystal clear in my mind. I remember scooting myself along the underbelly of the slide far enough to get my fingers around the edge and pulling myself out. I remember how the concrete scraped against my back and how I started to suck water in through my nose.
My anxiety feels like that.
Sometimes, the twitchy feeling that makes me feel like my skeleton wants to escape my skin eases.
Sometimes, though, I feel out of sorts.
I realized the other day that feeling out of sorts is just as bad, if not worse, than the zingy anxiety. I feel like something is not right. I’m not right. The world isn’t right. I don’t recognize anything, but the dangers feel so much more imminent. When I feel out of sorts, I spend my waking hours feeling the dread of thinking I’ve forgotten something very important. Feeling out of sorts is more dull than the other anxiety, but it is so much deeper.
‘Out of sorts’ just sounds like something your great Aunt Pearl would say. It is nowhere near ominous enough. It’s not harsh enough.
I know that sooner or later, my life will feel like my life again. I know it will happen.
In the mean time, I will continue my theme of ranting about something. Tuesday, I meted out punishment for people guilty of crimes that were totally defined by me.
It feels good to rant when I’m low on sorts because it feels like I have control of my own brain again for a few minutes.
Today, I’m going to complain about a radio commercial I have been subjected to all week.
Yes, I am perfectly aware that I can turn off the radio.
Anyway, the local news has been playing a teaser all week about people who lie. It starts out with an ‘expert’ making the bold claim that the average person lies 3 times in an 10 minute conversation. Pretty sure that people like my dad and an old boss who lie whenever their lips are moving contribute to that number being so high.
In any case, I am not an expert, and I don’t claim to understand how the experts arrive at these numbers, but it seems to me that would be hard to quantify.
Which isn’t the point I am making at all.
The point is, they make their statement that the average person lies 3 times in a 10 minute conversation and then immediately follow it up with the question: Can you spot a liar?
Dude! You just said that the average person lies 3 times in a 10 minute conversation and now you are asking if I can spot a liar?
It seems to me that you only have to be around people, open your eyes, and point.
I can’t wait until this stupid ‘can you spot a liar’ segment airs so that I can get back to being annoyed by the misogynist crap the morning DJ’s seem fond of spewing.
Also, if you could spare a sort or two, I could use them.
I hear ya sister. On a scale of 0 – 10, my anxiety is about 12.
sigh.
Lately I can’t stand listening to the news, the radio, ads, etc.
I guess I am out of sorts too.
If you find a good supplier, let me know.
I will share my sorts with you if I get some.
I don’t know how you do it. How you put the feelings into words, but you do it well. Lately my anxiety hasn’t been bad but I do know what you mean about wanting to get into that good groove upon switching jobs. I’ve been at my current job for 7 years now but I can still remember the unfamiliar territory feeling.
Oh thank you so much. I appreciate this…and I really hope it passes soon. I’ve been there nearly 5 months and I still feel really wonky.
Aaargh, I wish I didn’t know how that felt, I got trapped under a raft at Waterworld or whatever it’s called at Disney when it capsized. Yes, you’ve pinpointed a very apt description of how anxiety feels. This week it’s kicking my butt, next week will be different, for both of us I hope.
Everything is annoying me this week, especially belligerent male musicians on Facebook. I think it’s time for some SOA and I’ll leave them to their rantings.
It’s a horrifying feeling, isn’t it. And SOA is always a good cure.
I’ve been all out of sorts myself lately. Hoping the nice weather will finally come and bring some sorts along for the ride.
Oh sister, I hope so.
I think you may have nailed it. Sorting is exactly what needs to be done to decide which things to care about vs. which things lack the fucks to be given about.
Would you call female SOA’s DOA’s? That doesn’t seem fair.
I used to get those anxious feelings when I was managing the warehouse at Tumbleweed while high on drugs. Like “God damn it, what did I forget?” but not wanting to stop working to figure it out, because that would look stupid. Most of the time it turned out to be nothing but garden variety paranoia, but there were just enough times when I actually WAS forgetting something to never quite let me feel right about just blowing it off when it happened…
Also, assuming their contention isn’t total BS, extreme liars probably do weight the curve; you know those people… The ones whose every word is a lie including “and” and “the’…
yes, I do know those people. And I’m sure it does weight the curve quite a bit. But the commercial was still goddamn annoying.
I’ve been surprisingly Zen for the past several weeks (if you don’t count the anxiety about Listen to Your Mother). I’ve got several sorts to spare. If you lived closer, I would suggest liquor, music, and laughter. Yes, I realize that you can do all of that at home with Randy – but then how would you get my sorts??
Randy has been keeping me laughing a lot lately. It helps. I’m wondering if I’m more anxious about Sunday than I think I am…I dunno. I guess I will find out on Monday. Haha.
I went from working 14-16 hour days in a vegetable packhouse – you couldn’t see the whips, but you could hear them – to working sales from home. Every single day I have anxiety over my job. I love it, I want to keep it, but the reality shift from where I was to where I am is so huge that I can’t find anything to plant myself on. I just keep telling myself that next year will be easier. I’ll find my footing and start to excel.
I am pulling for you, sister!!!
I’ve been going without radio and TV for so long I don’t think I could stand it anymore. Everything I watch/listen to is to order (i.e. Netflix, Spotify) and without commercials, thank you very much! The funny side effect is that you end up only knowing certain people exist (like Taylor Swift) because of their presence on Twitter. Not a bad side effect I would say!
We are much the same. We only have Netflix and Amazon streaming, so I haven’t seen a commercial in years. The radio…different story..obviously.
You are welcome to my spare sorts 🙂 As soon as I find them they are all yours! As for adverts, I tape everything and whiz past them or listen to BBC Radio 4 ( which blissfully has no adverts – one advantage of paying a licence fee in the UK).
Can I spot a liar? I’ve given up worrying about it, as long as I know the truth I don’t give a fuck 😉 But if anyone finds my sorts, so that I can share them with Michelle, I would be extremely grateful for their safe return.
I promise if you loan them to me that I will not abuse them.
maybe like the fucks you don’t have to give, but still can find a few, there are some sorts lost in there too that will find it’s way back to you. xo
I should look in the bottom of my purse with the crumpled up receipts and pennies.
If it was earlier this week, I wouldn’t have had any spare sorts as I was SO out of them (PMS, even though I swear my ovaries are sputtering, with the added fun of a 25% stomach bug). For me it usually shows up as dread and hopelessness. Then my gut started feeling better and I got my period and now all is well again, so I DO, in fact, have some sorts to share. Until next time bwahahahahaha
I will take them when I can get them!
It’s not nice !not nice at all .After leaving my lying narcissistic husband at the age of fifty three,no job,money, home,I was out of sorts for a long time still get bad days and when I do !
What helps me is
1. Go to a field, back yard, anywhere no one
will hear you ,let out the biggest loudest scream
kick punch swear
anything just get it out
2. Watch something really funny here in London I watch Mrs browns boys laugh till I cry or wet my pantys.
3.Eat something really nice chocolate, ice cream (big tub )
4.Have a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight
5. Don’t. Stop until you can say fuck that feels better .xxxxx
A VERY good list!
I don’t have any sorts to spare but I can give you a virtual hug! My water slide moment happened in grade 5 when the teacher lined us up to check how neat our binders were. I was walked home by a grade 8 student because I couldn’t swallow for two days.
I will take that virtual hug! Thank you! Oh yeah…not being able to swallow..that’s when it’s really ramped up.
My ‘sorts’ are out as well Michelle. If I gave you some they might make it worse for you. Misogynist D.J.’s seem to be a Universal thing. :/
ohhh..yes..I don’t want any defective sorts.
HAHAHAA.
Saw this title in my inbox this morning before I had time to read it, and I just *knew*. Started laughing before I even read this. 😀
You do have a way of putting the feeling into words. And yes, Out of Sorts is an uncomfortable place to be. For me it feels like having one foot nailed to the floor, so nothing gets done, even though the clock is ticking and everything on my list NEEDS TO BE DONE RIGHT THIS MINUTE TODAY IF NOT SOONER, but the lack of fucks causes that to not really matter. Much. Then the anxiety kicks in at 2:30 a.m. when I wake up and says: “OMG NOTHING IS GETTING DONE AROUND HERE. Also you probably forgot something really super important, so you should dwell on that for a bit, too. shhh, go back to sleep…”
I should write a post about it myself, but I’m too out of sorts to feel creative.
I’ll be glad when I replenish mine, too.
Thank you, gorgeous…it is so nice to not have to dwell in out of sorts hell all alone.
ha! I hadn’t thought about Pleasure Isle in years! That place sure was a dump and I couldn’t wait to get there. It’s amazing how good things look when you are a kid. I kissed my first boyfriend at Pleasure Isle…I should have drowned his fucking ass! I’m not good right now either. I don’t know what it is but I am ready to jump out of my fucking skin. Like the sky is falling or something….I guess that just makes me chicken little!
I am right there in the barnyard with you, sister.
If I had a sort to spare I would share it with you, but I don’t, none to spare. (I feel like I’m in a Seinfeld espisode, not a square to spare.)
I’ve been feeling really out of sorts lately and I know exactly what you mean when something just feels off. Thankfully I’m not stricken by anxiety like some people are, most of the time I can just roll with the punches.
I hope you get back to feeling “normal” soon. 🙂
Thank you! I am sure I will…it’s just going to take time. Which I hate, because I am not patient.
I just pop my daily pill and try to avoid the news. But I found my keys and wallet that had been missing for two weeks so may be I have a few extra sorts.
YAY on finding lost things!
Omg, I hadn’t thought about Water World in years – that is the name of the water park I went to growing up. I think now to how gross those places are. How much pee/chlorine must be in the water, eww!
I am surprised that it’s only 3 in 10 that lie, I thought it would be higher really.
Lately I have been out of sorts listening to all the “mother’s day” ads. Just makes me think about the woman I have had no contact with for 12 years. I think I now understand how most guys feels around valentine’s day, LOL. Well the good news is mother’s day is going to be over in a week and and half. I try just flicking to another station, seems to help.
BTW good luck on ‘Listen to your mother.’
Yeah, that pool was nasty..
And thank you. I am both looking forward to it and looking forward to getting it over with.
I’m seriously all out of fucks but you can have any and all of the sorts you want. I mean it – any kind of sort you need. 😉
cool…I need a half a fuck ton of anchoring sorts.
Ohhh, my anxiety has been through the roof lately. I’m so tense I’ve had migraine after migraine and I try to sleep and my head just buzzes. Usually writing makes me feel better but you know how it is…sometimes you feel like you’re an okay writer and then sometimes you feel like you shouldn’t even be allowed to hold a pen.
Getting trapped underwater sounds like probably the worst experience ever, unless there was also a shark under there with you. Or an eel. Eels are fucking creepy. I’m glad you survived.
If I had any sorts, I’d for sure share them with you.
Right there with you, sister…
I am glad I survived as well. I think it was a pretty close call. And fuck eels right in the face. and sharks.
I’ve been out of fucks and sorts for quite a while now. I feel you on this one. I just keep on chugging on. That’s what everybody keeps telling me to do while I keep hoping one day they’re right.
I’ve been keeping up with you and I know you are out of sorts….you are getting good advice, though…forward motion, Eric…that’s always the best choice.
Well there, you see I just thought sorts kind of ran out as you got older… Happy to know they are transferable and regenerative… Have fun at the radio show
I like your writing….the title was interesting as well. Wouldn’t it be nice if the priorities would align with our brains and abilities so sh*t could get done in an orderly fashion. Probably never gonna happen……..glad you got out from underneath that slide.
Thank you so much! and yes, yes I am glad I got out from under that slide.
I am also out of sorts and in need of some. My anxiety has been very high this week with pressure in my chest and a constant lump in my throat. I lost my wonderful amazing husband of 32 years very suddenly 3 weeks ago and I feel like I can come apart! My children (boys 19 & 22) are taking it so hard and my 19 year this week had his first ER visit for his first ever horrible panic attack. Just what we needed.
I am glad the shit storm that was the month of April is over but it would be helpful if the racing thoughts and anxiety could go with it. I have enough (horrible) changes to get used to and fucking anxiety is not helping!
If you find some sorts, or give a fucks please do share.
I am so very sorry for your loss, how for you and your boys. I wish you peace and I would pass you all my sorts if I could. xo
Sometimes I wish I could blame everything on hormones. And sometimes I do wonder if I may be right about that assumption. Anyway, not giving a fuck, not wanting any more drama in my life or not having the patience for it, anxiety, overthinking, being out of sorts…..maybe my universal solution of eating brownies might help? 😉
Eating brownies is rarely a bad decision. I am with you on that.
Christ on a cracker! You nailed the anxiety thing big time! I have a group of authentic women friends, and when one of us is all messed up she just lets out a roaring, “Fuuuuucckk!” and the rest of us rush to support her with our own rabid expletives. It releases the tension,and we all have rollicking laughs. We live in the country, so our howlings echo through the woods and down the ravines, scaring the hell out of the wild life and two-leggeds.
Thank you for being so fucking authentic! You’d fit right in with our motley crew!!
I pretty much want to hang out with you and your friends. 🙂