When is Enough Enough?


We all have a certain amount of bullshit that we put up with on a daily basis. This world is full of stupid, arrogant, and otherwise useless people that seem to have nothing better to do than try and ruin our day. What happens, though, when these people live with you. How much of that bullshit can you put up with day in and day out? Some people are more tolerant than others, way more tolerant. At some point, however, we all reach our breaking point, our “fuck it.”

Reaching your “fuck it” doesn’t mean instantly pulling the plug. It should mean finding a way to get out of the situation. Many people become too emotionally charged to think and just act. There is a finesse to not fucking everything up while you’re saying, “fuck it.” I don’t mean be a cold-hearted bitch, like a calculating sociopath. It’s being safe and practical. Sometimes, the scenario might be an abusive spouse, where it could turn deadly if handled incorrectly. Sometimes, it might mean losing thousands or millions of dollars in a hasty decision.

I’ve been through my fair share of “fuck it” events, where enough is enough. Many times, I have not handled it well, and I have fucked shit up more than it should have been. I have learned over the years and mellowed with age. The biggest thing people miss when they reach the “fuck it” stage is “what’s next?” What happens after you’ve had enough? You have to have a plan. This is why pulling the plug isn’t the answer right away.

I should have had a lot of time before my “fuck it” point to think things through. When you do not realize you are that close to the “fuck it” point until it’s too late is a problem. It’s a problem I’m dealing with right now. How did I not see this “fuck it” point coming so quickly? Am I dumb, blind, or both? No. When you have your head down, plowing ahead, it is very difficult to gain perception of what is around you. You cannot see a wall, if you are running full speed staring down at the ground. Eventually, you will hit that wall head first. You just have to be lucky you don’t hit a stud. This hernia, surgery, and a good friend helped pull my head out of my ass just long enough to realize things around me smelled like shit. Granted, I’d rather not have had the hernia or surgery, but even the shit things in life can have positive effects.

Reaching your “fuck it” point is not all bad. There are so many things in life right now that seem too intertwined to be coincidence. Too many things are lining up. Is all the shit I’ve been through leading to something amazing, or is it the biggest ass fuckin the universe has to throw up my rectum? I always hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. I approach with caution, ready for the amazing, desperately wanting it to be true, but have a gallon of lube if the universe decides to make me its bitch.


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