letters | s/sandra #atozchallenge

letters | a to z | what sandra thinks

Dear Sandra,

What the hell is wrong with you? You are such a mess.

You don’t do enough… not for your friends, not for your family, not for yourself. Hell, you just don’t do enough of anything. You couldn’t find a job so now you’re stuck at home (current world issues aside because you were already stuck). You can’t get yourself to accomplish anything even though you have time. You have no ambition… no motivation… no confidence. And you keep telling yourself that you’re worthless.

People do need you, you know. I know you think no one would care if you vanished. You think most people wouldn’t even notice. But deep down, you must know that’s not true… don’t you? Don’t you?? You matter to people.

You just don’t matter to yourself.

You’re weak. You can’t pick yourself up. You’ve been trying for so long. And you fail every time. What now? Giving up? Hey, maybe that’s your answer. Give up. It’s too hard anyway, right? Forget about getting better. I know that’s not the answer you want. But no one has another answer… not even you. You feel that you simply cannot be helped. I understand why you feel that way. You’ve tried everything in your power. Granted, you’re level of power sucks, but you’ve done what you can. Even therapists give up on you. Maybe they’re right. Maybe there’s nothing anyone can do for you. Maybe you really can’t be helped.

Your weakness, your worthlessness, your pointlessness… these are the reasons why you look to others for validation. You don’t think you have any worth, so you need someone else to tell you that you do. I understand that. It’s pathetic… but I really do understand. I wish you could have that constant pick-me-up. Maybe if you’d married better, you would have that. But that was another of your failures.

Of course, it’s not really anyone’s job to build you up all the time. That kind of makes you a selfish bitch. You do realize that, right? You’re supposed to be able to build yourself up. You can’t, though. You tell yourself all sorts of wonderful things, but they don’t help because you don’t believe yourself. You believe that other people believe the things they say, and that builds you up. But you can’t do it on your own because you don’t trust yourself. I know why. You’ve made so many terrible choices. You’ve failed so many times. I wouldn’t trust myself either.

I’m not going to sugar coat it… I don’t like being around you. I don’t like you. I know it’s harsh… but it’s the truth.

p.s. — At least you used to be able to use all these fucked emotions to write. Poetry, especially. What happened to that? God, you are so fucking frustrating!


©2020 what sandra thinks

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letters | r/rick and morty #atozchallenge

letters | a to z | what sandra thinks

Dear Rick and Morty,

Thank you for being so ridiculously absurd and for making me laugh. The first time I saw you, I wondered what the fuck I was actually watching. I guess eventually, I embraced your weirdness.

I think maybe I relate to you, Rick. No, I’m not a fucked up scientist (no offense intended). But you act like you’re better than everyone yet underneath it all, you hate yourself, don’t you? Okay, maybe you don’t. But I kind of think you do. You hate idiots and you’re smart, but you hate yourself anyway. I’m kind of like that.

I love your meaninglessness philosophy. [That’s what I like to call it. You probably have a much cooler name for it.] You accept that life is really just nothing. There is no greater meaning so what’s the point in worrying about everything? Just focus on what makes you feel good.

I’d love to live that way. But what makes me feel good comes from others, not from myself, so it’s hard to focus on that when I have no control over it. I’d need to make a list of everything in my life in order of most-to-least joyful and picking the top few to focus on. But… even at the top of my ‘most-to-least joyful‘ list isn’t anything joyful… it’s just the least miserable. But you don’t need to hear about that.

I aspire to be more like you, Rick. Minus the alcoholism, unibrow, drool, and bad hair.


p.s. — To my readers: Please enjoy this convenient 20-second video so you’ll always be sure you’ve washed your hands long enough. A public service provided by Rick and Morty.


©2020 what sandra thinks

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letters | q/quarantine #atozchallenge

letters | a to z | what sandra thinks

Dear Quarantine,

I know you’re necessary. I take you very seriously. And I respect you. I know we’re in the midst of a health crisis, and it is not my intention to minimize your importance in any way.

But I’m having a few issues.

I’ve barely left the house for weeks. I don’t have anywhere to be, but guess where I don’t want to be? Right. Home. I’m losing it. Yes, I’ve been unemployed for a long time. And I generally hate people. This whole situation should be easy for me. Oh, but it’s not. Everything is thrown off. The kids are here 100% of the time. [More on that later.] I am *never* alone. My routine is all fucked up. I’m bored as hell. I fantasize about going shopping for non-essentials. And I want to hug my mom.

Some people are using their extra time at home to get shit done. Not me. Nope. I’m too anxious… and I have no peace or motivation. I guess that’s normal for me, but it’s heightened. Having time isn’t really new for me [see aforementioned unemployment], but I wasn’t accomplishing much before. You’ve changed nothing. But damn, do I feel like a fucking waste of space when others tell me how much they’ve done since they’ve had to stay home. Not only have I not done shit during the last five weeks, but I didn’t do shit with any time I already had before you came along. I guess that’s my fault.

You’ve brought about these new catch phrases, and, God, how I loathe them. I never want to hear the words ‘new normal’ again. Fuck that. This is not normal and nothing anyone says will convince me that this is any form of normal… old, new… no. Just no. And how stupid is the term ‘social distancing’? We are not socially distant. We are physically distant. As we should be. But socially? No. Socially, we are more connected than ever. I have a group text with my mom and sisters. We talk every single day. Socially, we are much closer. Physically, we are apart. Easter was fucking sad. Especially for my mom and one of my sisters as they both live alone. Thanks a lot for that. (That was sarcasm, in case you didn’t get it.)

*Sigh* What was I saying? Oh, yes, back to the kids.

I’m going a special kind of crazy. They are good kids. Thankfully. But my god. I need a break. My teenage son stays up later than I do (into the wee hours of the morning) and sleeps ‘til afternoon. I don’t necessarily have a problem with that, but he does have schoolwork. My daughter is twelve, and I am so screwed if her bitchiness gets worse when she becomes a teenager. She picks fights… daily. And she is always talking. To me… to her brother… to my husband… to her friends. Would it be rude for me to tell her to just shut the fuck up for five minutes? Yes, I know it would. And when she’s on facetime with her friends, not only do I hear her talking, but I have to hear her friends talking, too. Oh. My. God. Kill me.

And the kids fight. Normal, I know. But I am sick of it. It’s a different version of the same fight every time, too: my daughter getting on my son’s case for not being nice enough to her; my son wishing she would just shut up and leave him alone. I can’t fix it. It’s not really mine to fix. But it’s mine to endure and I am so over it.

I try to distract myself. I’ve been baking too much. It’s not really the baking that’s the problem… it’s the eating. I might as well start applying desserts directly to my butt and thighs. [Sorry for the disturbing visual.] I try watching tv, but all I see is stuff about you. Even if I do find something decent to watch, you’re mentioned in every other commercial. You know the ones. ‘We’re all in this together‘ and other such ads? Those. They’re supposed to be uplifting, but honestly, they have the opposite effect.

You’re everywhere. And you’re fucking depressing, you know? I realize that’s rich coming from me, but there it is.

Sometimes, late at night, I lie in bed wondering if you’re real or if this is all just a bad dream. And if it is a dream, am I ever going to wake up? I’m afraid you’ll never go away.

p.s. — What the hell day is it anyway? I should check twitter. Did you know that each day, @twitter tweets out what day it is? I should retweet the Monday tweet on Tuesday. That would fuck with people.

p.p.s. — Thank you for not impacting my husband. If he wasn’t still going to work, that would surely push me over the edge, and no one wants to see me lose my shit.


©2020 what sandra thinks

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letters | p/p.s. #atozchallenge

letters | a to z | what sandra thinks

[This space intentionally left blank.]


p.s. — Please write back.

p.p.s. — Let’s hear it for the ‘p.s.’ to every note I ever passed in school!

p.p.p.s. — Yes, you’re right… I had nothing for P.


©2020 what sandra thinks

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letters | o/occupant #atozchallenge

letters | a to z | what sandra thinks

Dear Occupant,

Please allow this to serve as notice that you are hereby evicted from the premises. ‘You’ or ‘occupant’ being that nasty, nagging, hostile voice and ‘the premises’ being my mind.

You have 30 days to comply.

The Bitch Who Owns the Place

p.s. — I wonder if this will work. Seriously, please get out.


©2020 what sandra thinks

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letters | n/never #atozchallenge

letters | a to z | what sandra thinks

Dear Never,

Are you the answer?

Wait… don’t tell me. Not yet. Let me ask you the questions first.

When will I stop worrying all the time?

When will I feel like I’m a good person? A good mother? A good friend?

When will I believe others when they tell me I’m not so bad? When will I stop thinking they’re ‘just being nice’?

When will I have one whole day—start to finish—where I don’t feel hopeless for a single moment?

When will I find some joy in my life?

When will I stop feeling so much pain?

When will I feel beautiful?

When will I stop hating myself?

When will I feel happiness?

Okay now…

Are you the answer? …because I’m afraid you are.

p.s. — Dear Now, When should I give up? Are you the answer?


©2020 what sandra thinks

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letters | m/marvel #atozchallenge

letters | a to z | what sandra thinks

Dear Marvel,

What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously. What were you thinking with Thor in Endgame? Fat Thor? Really? Did you want to ruin the movie for me? Well, good fucking job.

Come on. He could have been wrecked without losing the abs.

You suck.


p.s. — (To my readers) I didn’t say ‘spoiler alert’ because, come on, if you haven’t seen Endgame by now, you just don’t care.


©2020 what sandra thinks

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letters | l/lucifer #atozchallenge

letters | a to z | what sandra thinks

Dear Lucifer,

Please hurry back.

I miss you.


p.s. — I know… it’s the fucking quarantine holding shit up. But I can’t wait. It may be time to re-watch the whole series.


©2020 what sandra thinks

Posted in blogging, challenge, life, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments