I imagine if you saw the title of my blog, you may have expected to see a curse word or two somewhere throughout this blog. I apologize for the lack of warning on the title, but here’s a warning that I am absolutely going to spell out the word throughout this blog at some points. Please enjoy!
I’m currently reading Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb. If you’ve been following my website or author Instagram, you may know that this book was the May 2025 book club book for my book club, Adventure Awaits Book Club. (Oh man, that’s a lot of the words “book” and “club.”)
So, why am I reading it in December of 2025? Well, I lost the book for a while. I legit couldn’t find it anywhere in my room.
One day I’m sitting on the couch talking to my mom and I happen to look over at the bookshelf in our living room. The top three shelves are filled with family pictures and trinkets. My mom was kind enough to relinquish a shelf for some books that I have accumulated and sometimes leave sitting in places she would likely prefer they not be. That shelf is the bottom shelf.
Sitting on this shelf is my book club book! The issue is, I noticed this sometime in September. How has it been on the shelf for four months and I not notice? I do happen to have a blog called “ADHD, Maybe?” (Check it out!) My mom has also called me Dory for most of my life. I have no idea why I never noticed it there or thought to look there to begin with.
But anyways… I think I didn’t need to read it as much back in May as much I need to read it right now. I just finished chapter 35 of the book. In the copy I have, it’s page 254. I have about 150 pages remaining. The last sentence of chapter 35 is, “Sometimes the only thing to do is yell, “Fuck!”
Not going to even lie, chapter 35 made me cry. I had tears pouring down my face. (This is not the first time I cried in the book, and I anticipate it won’t be the last.) Thankfully, my sweet family were mostly all out of the home, and my mom was napping, so they did not witness my breakdown. I am a little under the weather today, and I had a little moment to myself to get some reading in. I don’t generally like to cry in front of anyone in general, but this moment made me think of a time in my life where I tried so hard not to cry and found myself yelling “Fuck” probably more than I even remember.
If you’ve read this book, or plan to do so in the future, I’m not even remotely attempting to compare my life experience to the person’s whose life is being described in this specific chapter and other places throughout the book. I am, however, writing this blog because I felt inspired. Coincidentally, my husband mentioned earlier that he had not seen me post a blog in a while. I told him I hadn’t felt inspired lately. I had no idea that a few hours later I would read a sentence that would inspire the words I currently type.
The book in general has made me think of my time in therapy. To help those who haven’t read the book, the book is about a therapist sharing her personal life experiences, client stories from her time as a therapist, and her experience in therapy while also being a therapist. I know I have mentioned numerous times throughout all the blogs I’ve written that I used to attend therapy. The time I mention most often, was my second experience with therapy, but my most substantial. The first time was only a few weeks. The second was four years!
I know I’ve mentioned how much those four years of therapy saved me. I can’t remember all the details I have shared, but I do feel it’s important for this blog, to share some therapy details, so please forgive me if these details are repetitive.
I loved my therapist. Aside from my family and a few friends, I had never felt love like I felt it from my therapist. It wasn’t anything unethical or inappropriate, but I could tell my therapist loved me. He loved me in a general sense of simply caring about another human going through a tough time in their lives. After four years, honestly, my therapist probably knew me better than any human ever had. There were things he would remember, things he would say, and just his general overall approach that helped me get through a horrible time for myself mentally.
My therapist helped me love myself. He would redirect me when I would make self-deprecating statements. He would validate me when I made dark statements and not make me feel like I was broken in those moments. He would listen to me and point out the light he could see in my eyes when I talked about things that mattered to me. Honestly, aside from my son and my mom, he’s the main reason I am here years later attempting to shine my light as bright as possible. He helped me realize I am so much more than the roles that I hold. He helped me realize that my personality isn’t something I should try to hide to be more palatable for others. He helped me love me.
He helped me cry. He helped me know that it was okay to yell “fuck” if you need to (more in a hypothetical sense than what the author described in their book). My therapist helped me get out my anger. He helped me find ways to be okay with being angry and that sometimes I have to just embrace it to be able to get through it. I absolutely yelled “fuck” loudly and numerous times while in my car driving to random places when my brain just couldn’t handle what it was feeling that day. He often mentioned he wished I could find one of those places where I could go and break random things. (There is one in my hometown now, and I hope to go do that activity one of these days!)
The reason I feel I needed this book is because I have been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately. Nothing compared to what I felt when I was attending therapy, but enough to know that I haven’t exactly felt like myself. I have been feeling some of the angry feelings that I felt back then though and that scared me a bit.
There are a few people in my life, to some extent, that I wish were not. I say to some extent, because if they would chill the heck out, things would probably be fine. I don’t know that they’re capable of it though, so I manage what comes at me. I truly just wish I didn’t have to manage. I just wish things could be so much better than they are without all the struggles and having to stay on your toes waiting to see what drama someone might bring to your life next.
There’s another line in this book that states, “It’s just one of those things.” The context that sentence was used was to help a person see that there’s no explanation for something bad happening. It’s literally “just one of those things.” We often seek a reason for why things happen or don’t happen. You could say “It’s all in God’s plan.” That’s a valid statement. However, that often doesn’t really feel helpful when it comes to the horrific things that happen in a person’s life.
Honestly, sometimes things happen and you just have to yell “fuck”.
It may be in God’s plan. It may just be one of those things. It really doesn’t matter why most days. Sometimes, just yell. Go break things (in a safe environment and not things that will cause you more problems later, please). Go sit in therapy and cry your eyes out. Cry in front of your family. Cry whenever you feel is necessary. Get those feelings out and don’t let them eat away at you!
Sometimes things don’t make sense, but trying to ignore all those hard feelings, isn’t going to help you move forward in the long run.
My husband and I had a disagreement the other day. We were both right. We generally are on the same page within a disagreement but for some reason take a minute to realize we want the same thing and are often debating semantics. He was washing the dishes earlier today and asked me to stay in the kitchen with him when he noticed me heading back to our room to get back in bed because I wasn’t feeling well. This man loves me! Thanks again in part to my therapist, I am actually able to recognize love. I could see the love in his face when he asked me to sit in the kitchen while he washed. He knew I wasn’t feeling up for cleaning even though that tends to be what I do when he cooks breakfast. He wouldn’t ask for me to clean, but he asked for me to stay with him while he did. My husband truly enjoys my presence.
While he was washing the dishes, I was reading. I looked up at him and watched him for a while. At one point he turns towards me and smiles his beautiful smile. We hadn’t technically resolved the disagreement we had the other day, and I think were at the point where we just realized it wasn’t worth any further conversation. We both know we are right and what needs to happen. We’re just doing it at this point. His beautiful smile triggered the thought of “I love his face. I hope I always have this man smiling back at me in life.”
While I am a proponent of divorce absolutely being on the table, my husband and I are actively taking care of each other’s hearts to avoid it having to be a choice we make. I don’t believe divorce is in our future, but I am not ignorant to the fact that if we don’t prioritize our relationship, anything can happen.
It might seem odd for me to bring this information about my husband up. However, I bring it up because of some other sentences from Maybe You Should Talk to Someone. “And you know what I’m going to miss most of all? His face. I’m going to miss looking at his beautiful face. It’s my favorite face in the entire world.”
How is it that I spoke with my husband about not feeling inspired, think the thought I thought about his sweet face, read all the words I mentioned throughout this blog, and then get to the point of feeling inspired to write this blog all in the same day?
I think it’s because I was meant to write this blog. These words need to be out in the world. I’ve been in my feelings lately and honestly, sometimes the only thing I need to do is yell, “Fuck!” I need to realize that things just are the way they are sometimes, and I can’t always change them. I have a phenomenal husband, five beautiful children, the most amazing mom, and my life is honestly something I could never have dreamed of having during those four years of therapy.
Like I mentioned in my blog, “Good Things Can Happen,” “I can’t promise you life will get better, but I will say that good things can happen.”
I can’t sit here and say that the bad things happening in your life will work out the way you hope. I can only say that, sometimes the only thing to do is yell, “fuck,” and keep moving forward. As I say in a number of my blogs, do what makes you happy. Find what works for you. If you aren’t up for yelling a curse word, find something else that helps you not hold in your anger. It’s okay to let go at times. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to not have it all together. Life will be hard. People will suck and make life challenging. In the case of this specific chapter in the book, there may not be anything you can do to change the bad things that happen. Life isn’t always going to make sense, but I hope you can find the people in life that make it better.
I hope you have someone in your life that you love seeing their face. If not, I hope you love your face. You deserve to love your face even if you’re not in the best head space at any given time. I also hope you find someone else someday whose face you live. It doesn’t have to be a spouse. People have a way of being your favorite face even if they are not a partner. My therapist’s face was my favorite for the longest time. I’m grateful for my therapist’s presence when I needed it. I’m grateful he helped me find joy again in life. I’m grateful for reading Maybe You Should Talk to Someone now instead of in May. I haven’t finished it yet, but I highly recommend it. I don’t imagine that recommendation changing within the next 150 pages.
Life isn’t easy, but you’re doing great! Be kind to others. If you’re the one causing problems in other people’s lives, maybe you should talk to someone! 🙂













