Ah, you've hit that lovely stage where I just tell people "My give-a-damn broke". It's a lovely feeling, once you get used to it. My stress levels are way down now, and I pick and choose what I "give-a-damn" about now.
Like, for one: my body image. Along with menopause, I *should* be freaking out that me in a bikini= 2 rubber bands on an egg. But since I now longer *care* what I look like in public, I happily wear whatever the hell I want to now, and am no longer bothered by the funny looks. :D
My house is a mess. But it's not *filthy*, so that's a plus in my books. I've been throwing things out left and right, because I no longer care about them, why the hell I still have them I;ll never know. SO out into the trash they go.
Freedom. It's a lovely feeling. I think it's also called apathy, but I'm being optimistic here. :D
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Like, for one: my body image. Along with menopause, I *should* be freaking out that me in a bikini= 2 rubber bands on an egg. But since I now longer *care* what I look like in public, I happily wear whatever the hell I want to now, and am no longer bothered by the funny looks. :D
My house is a mess. But it's not *filthy*, so that's a plus in my books. I've been throwing things out left and right, because I no longer care about them, why the hell I still have them I;ll never know. SO out into the trash they go.
Freedom. It's a lovely feeling. I think it's also called apathy, but I'm being optimistic here. :D
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It's apathy born of emotional exhaustion brought about by unfulfilled ideals. At least, it is with me.
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