I hate it here.

(+ my soul has salmonella)

Welcome to Shame Sandwich, where Megan feels equal parts shame and glee in sharing hilarious personal essays, thoughts, and dear-diary-esque rants every Friday. Sometimes on shame, sometimes shame infused, and other times, nothing to do with shame. Enjoy responsibly.

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AUTHORS NOTE: ← will never not feel cool as a fucking tit in Antarctica writing that

What you’re about to read is veeeeeeeeeeeeeeery raw. Honestly not sure it’s safe to consume. In fact I think my soul currently has salmonella. Would explain a lot. Damn.

So. Two things.

Thing 1: What you’re about to read consume is not my ‘normal’ newsletter style, at least the first half. But. Apparently I’m in charge of my newsletter and can do whatever the Bangin Fudge Brownies I want to do. ← Sometimes I still can’t believe that either.

Thing 2: Don’t worry, I’m ok. Well, ok ‘ish’. 🤣 I’ll give more context at the end. Just know that what you’re about to read isn’t my entire day to day life existence, it was just a raw emotional outpouring of intense frustration, captured in the only way I know how… by writing about it.

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11.12.24 | 6:43pm

This was written on the Notes app of my phone while waiting in the lobby of my daughters gymnastics. I was the sole parent in the waiting area. The feelings of frustration I was feeling inside bubbled over and I whipped open the Notes app on my phone and found my fingers typing ‘What do I want to do?’…

What do I want to do?

I want to write. I want to fucking write.

I want to do shit I don’t feel like a total failure at. Fuck. Yes. That hits.

I feel so fucking stuck. And unfulfilled. And guilty for feeling this way and ashamed for not doing anything about it.

So I hate myself?

Am I happy? What even is happy?  Nobody owes me anything yet I don’t do myself any favors. Why can’t I just fucking DO shit? What is the key? I will put it in the lock if I had it. Or would I? What if I’m just a spoiled brat? What if I’m just a lazy hoe?

Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck Me.

I want, but I don’t do.

I do, but I don’t do well.

I can’t focus. That fucking WORD, focus.

I breathe a million ideas into existence and can’t be bothered to nurture it into anything but clumps of half finished hopes.

I hate it here.

Here. Me. Myself.

I hate it here.

I’m unfulfilled as fuck.

I want a different life and yet I repeat the same mistakes.

I’ve got a worn down path of failure on my soul. Disgust rots over my self and yet I wallow in it. Unable to break free.

What am I looking for? What am I missing? What do I want? You see, that is the very thing that is fucking me sideways without protection and without the barbs cut off.

I’m in pain and yet my screams go nowhere. My grief is met with darkness.

Why can’t I act? Am I hoping for too much? Did society fool me into thinking I deserve too much? What is happiness? Am I the problem? I am always the problem.

What is my problem? If only I could taste it and define it and consume it and consummate it maybe then I could transform it from problem to perfection.

Fuck me. I hate my life. If I have to stay in a career that makes me feel like a crippled fish in a tree-climbing-competition a minute longer I will explode.

And yet I sit. I languish. I write.

It’s the only thing I can do. I am reduced to an infantile state of only being able to write.

I hate it here.

I hate feeling stupid. I hate feeling stuck. I feel so so so stuck. And I preach the opposite.

Why can’t I fucking follow through with a goddamn thing?????????

What the fuck is wrong with me??!!????

I hate it here.

I fucking hate it here.

I’m a fraud at work. Sucking in a paycheck for a role I’m a ghost in. And it has ruined my soul.

Oh, rise above the demons of my mind?

Fuck.

I would if I could. Except, would I?

That might be what haunts me the most.

If I knew what I had to do, would I have the willpower to go through with it?

Fuck.

What’s the answer, bitch?

WHAT’S THE FUCKING ANSWER??????

I care too much about what other people think of me.

I crave their acceptance like some people crave oxygen.

I fucking hate it but I don’t know what to do.

Or do I? Maybe I just don’t give a fuck.

Said easier than done.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

Name what you fucking want, bitch. Name it, you disgusting, depraved, sick and twisted cunt. Name it. Fucking name it.

I want to get paid to do shit my motherfucking way.

MY MOTHERFUCKING WAY!!!!!!

Why am I so frozen? Why????????????????

I hate it here.

I fucking hate it. I’m stuck in a frozen concoction of dread and inaction.

Why can’t I change my ways? Why don’t I want it bad enough? What would rock bottom look like? Why is writing my only outlet? Why can’t it help me more.

If I could make a living from my writing I would be in endless ecstasy. Or would I?

Why can’t I be in ecstasy right NOW?

That fucks me up big time. BIG FUCKING TIME.

Why can’t I be happy now? Because I’m not being honest now.

The degree to which you can be happy is the degree to which you can be honest.

Holy fucking hell that feels massive.

Nay, that IS massive.

Honesty feels like an exhale. Or does it? Idk if I would know what that would feel like.

But I do know what dishonesty to one’s own self feels like.

It feels like getting hung. But before you die, you just remain in that horrifying state… forever.

I hate it here.

I don’t know what to do. That’s the truth.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know what to do.

Do I trust the process?

No. I don’t.

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Aaaaand, that’s what I wrote. Kept 100% in it’s raw, unedited form.

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🫣🫣🫣🫣

Whew. I can’t believe I’m posting this shit.

And yet? I want to post this shit. Nobody is coercing me. I’m not doing it for clout. I’m posting it because rips shirt and pounds on chest I am a writer, goddamnit. I’m a motherfucking writer and this is what I want to write about.

This is how I process my life. This is how I make sense to the senseless around me. In fact, I wrote something hella profound in that note:

“The degree to which you can be happy is the degree to which you can be honest.”

BRO.

SIS.

COUSIN.

RELATION.

That is a maaaaaaaaaaaasive ‘aha’ moment for me!!!!!!!!!

So I’m going to write say it out loud one more time:

“The degree to which you can be happy is the degree to which you can be honest.”

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🎤🤯

I’ve always prided myself on being an honest person. I largely hate liars.

And yet… when it comes to being my honest self, and showing up as the unfiltered real me for the majority of my life?! Christ on a ripe cantaloupe I’ve been as fake as Hollywood’s tits.

And lemme tell ya… that takes its toll on your soul.

Massively.

Which is why my Shame Sandwich newsletter has been the brightest light in my life. For the first time in my life, I can truly say, I’m doing what I LOVE, and I’m honest while doing it.

Excuse me while I go sob all of the castor oil off my eyelashes. ← don’t know if it’s actually growing them legs but i’m fucking doing it ok ← and if you have no idea what i’m talking about pls google castor oil and eyelashes hahahah

Now, being honest doesn’t mean I don’t regularly feel like I might shit a shame sandwich after revealing some of this shit with you. 😂

Unfortunately, there’s been no fast track to “I’m not a people pleaser anymore!” or “I suddenly am super confident all the time!” or “I finally have true inner peace!” from writing my newsletter.

HOWEVER—

I think I’m making tiny little babe ← yep e not y steps in that direction. And at any rate, I’m feeling ALIVE in the process. My soul is radiating with love and healing every time I stay true to myself, which is every time I write to you all, my shame sammie fam. <3

AND NOW— if I was you right now, I’d probably have some questions. 😂

Like…

→ BISH YOU GOOD????

→ YOU SEEMED KINDA… UPSET. ARE YOU REALLY OK???

→ WHAT IS GOING ON???

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First off, hormones.

Yo. My hormones have been on some whack crack the last 10 days. Truly. 😭😂

Normally, I get my usual ‘BITCH I WILL FUCK YOU UP IF YOU GIVE ME ATTITUDE!!!!’ moments, on my pre-period PMS week. 🥳

However, the last 10 DAYS have been Weird. Extra. Unhinged.

The amount of hard rock rage music that I’ve been listening to to get me through the last several days is an accurate representation of my internal state. 😂

I’m STILL in the midst of waiting for this FUCKING PERIOD TO START, it’s bloody ← haha LATE turns out, I would have to be fucked to be pregnant which means my hormones are still whack on crack. So. I REALLY hope I don’t re-read this once my hormones calm down and scream. 🙈😂

Second off, my job.

Disclaimer: If you’re a a co-worker of mine, I don’t legally allow you to read further. Any action can and will be taken against you if you read further. Or, if you’ve read anything prior, too. Is that clear? Good. 😂

All the things have been hitting with my day job lately and it’s been fucking me up in the head. I’m 8 months into this job and it has morphed into something I’m deeply unhappy with, generally speaking. And I feel myself slipping into deep melancholy over it. Even though it’s the best paying job I’ve ever had. ← Talk about a MIND FUCK!!! I feel so ashamed for a) not being grateful for this decent paying job and b) for not trying harder. I’m teetering on the edge of not wanting to give a damn.

There’s honestly so much to un-pack there. I 100% want to write about all of that in a future newsletter.

Third off, my future.

deep breath—

I really feel stuck. I know I don’t want to stay in my job for a second longer than I need to but what am I doing about it?

Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. And, it is fucking me up in the head.

Which honestly might be exactly what the hopefully hot Dr. ordered.

It would seem I can’t be bothered to do anything until I’m utterly and completely MISERABLE. And hating it here.

And, are you ready for this?

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Just one night later after writing spilling I hate it here thoughts on my phone… I kinda sorta had a breakthrough.

That’s right, on Wednesday evening, instead of the endless procrastination and swirling and spiraling, I finally faced myself in the metaphorical mirror.

We talked. Face to face. She and I.

I told her I was ready to stop spiraling in circles, and face my circumstances head on. And she told me she was going to stop chasing all of the distracting shiny objects and instead become still, so we could both listen to the quiet voice of wisdom within.

And for the first time in a (long) while… I have hope that I will one day, sooner rather than later, I will be living a life where ALL of me shines, in a career that supports my daughter and I as we live our best lives.

That is my dream. 🥹

And you know what?

By me writing this newsletter, this is me living the dream. 😭 It may only be once a week on Fridays, but goddamnit, if that’s not the most beautiful start that I’ve ever seen.

And, all this to say— my ugly moments of melancholy-rage-despair culminating in the last 10 days or so have finally led me to bloody do something about my circumstances. Instead of wallowing, I’m finally, seriously going to figure out what’s next for me.

Coming face to face with my despair, truly facing it has caused a palpable shift of energy within me.

I’m somehow… calmer.

My goal is to be out of my job within the next 6 months. ← holy fuck that just popped out of nowhere. LET’S FUCKING GO. Except. I’m committed to leading with intuition and flow. Not fear or force.

Taking flowful action, here I fucking come. 💛💛💛

And now— I wish YOU the bestest Friday ever, and weekend!!!

-M

p.s. - DATE UPDATE!!!! I think imma go back and update that post with some of the extra details but for now imma give you the cliff notes.

1. ✅ Very attractive in person! 🥶

2. ✅ First half of date was fun! 🍔

3. ❌ Not a lot of intellectual depth. 😴

4. ❌ Not respectful of physical boundaries. 👎

5. ❌ Will not be seeing again.

Sooo… onto the next lol.

p.p.s - These are some of the peeps that I’ve been LISTENING TO ON REPEAT: Dorothy, HARDY, Halestorm, System of a Down, Shinedown, Breaking Benjamin, Linkin Park, Disturbed, Hinder. 🤘

p.p.p.s - I’ve also countered the above with more stand-up comedy. I loooooove comedy. Obvs. If you’re not laughing you’re dying. 😂 So if you have a fav comedian recs please share them!!!

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Hi, hello! You just read Shame Sandwich where I, Megan, share some shit with you in the only way I know how: blasphemously.

If you loved this newsletter, I would be shamefully thrilled if you would give this post a heart, comment or share. Shank you!!!

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