Merry Christmas Myth

Merry my arse when I’m coughing up phlegm all of a sudden, my throat itches like a cat scratched me multiple times over, my whole body aches like a mudderfucker. I can’t even walk without feeling pain on the soles of my feet.

Seriously, MERRY MY ARSE.

We even had to skip the ONE and ONLY Christmas event because:

  • the shops punked me and I couldn’t get the present that I promised the host
  • last minute we were told had to bring gift exchange and we had nothing prepared
  • most importantly, I was (and still am) sick like a dog, and it really isn’t nice to pass germs to the pregnant host

Forget the fancy dinners, beautifully wrapped presents, or whatever it is that people have for Christmas. I can’t even have the simple wish of BASIC HEALTH. Just to, you know, not cough/sputter/spit/ache. Is it THAT bloody hard?

It even hurts when I pump my breastmilk out. Which is obviously making me steer away from pumping. Each suction cycle of the pump feels like it’s going to rip my nipples off. To that someone up there, thanks arh. With a truckload of fucking sarcasm.

And to think this is the first Christmas that the entire family has gone back to the house of the Lord… Shouldn’t we should be more blessed, seeing how we’re back with Him again? But no, we’ve never had a worse Christmas. So merry my arse, seriously.

Fuck this shit. I’m just way too cynical to be able to put my faith in any religion. Especially not when I get screwed over like this. And in the most fucked up manner ever, life was actually easier and better before we started going back to church. So you know what? I’m not going to church anymore. Whatever the fuck for lah, when it makes my life worse.


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