YOUCH

YOUCH

I don’t mind a whole lot of things.

Changing a baby’s extra poopie diaper.
The pinch of a needle or the sight of my blood as I’m donating.
Staying up all night with a vomiting child.
Bandaging up a sliced finger or skinned knee.

Simple, everyday grossness that probably should turn on my squeamish button, usually doesn’t bother me.
So, YaY.
Bring it, if you must.
If I have to, I can handle almost all icky.

ALMOST.

There is a video making the rounds on tv and every social media outlet known to humankind
& just the thought of thinking about it sends my stomach into a turmoil.
I am avoiding it like the plaque
& if I see it anywhere in the distance, I WILL run.

I am very sorry for your pain French gymnast, Samir Ait Said, I truly am but I can never, ever, EVER look at you and your Rio Olympic footage.
Ever.
It just can’t be because my psyche simply cannot handle it.
But, just so you know, you now live in a safe, guarded but, never to be mentioned again, corner of my brain.
I put you there yesterday right after I came thisclose to watching you experience your profound agony.
I tucked you away, nice and fluffy cozy.

No worries though, you aren’t alone.
The NFL’s Joe Theismann lives there.
He moved in back in 1985
& to this very day, I have yet to watch his leg contortion.
Nope.
A young man named Kevin Ware lives there too.
Seems he played basketball for the University of Louisville back in 2013.
Unfortunately, that’s all I know about him.
I just can’t bare to hear the rest of his story.

yikes.

There are certain rules I follow on this jolly road of life
& staying far, FAR away from grotesque content alerts is one of them.
Just thinking about it gives me a serious case of willies
& now that I’ve been thinking about it …

Hello Willy.
Goodbye Breakfast.

YOUCH.

 ðŸ™‚

I Am My Feelings