I Don’t Trust Joy, and Other Things Depressed People Say

So, a lot has happened…

The summer seems like such a blur now, although it certainly wasn’t wasted. I can’t say I much liked staying with Younger Sister, as much as I got to spend time with my precious nephews. (Younger Sister does not clean, and just remembering her bathroom is making me obsessively clean my own in the middle of nights.)

Elder Nephew, Sweet Pea I’ve called him here, has gone and grown up when I wasn’t looking, and has gone from the precocious toddler I remember to a pre-teen, snarky, sarcastic, foul-mouthed boy I still adore beyond reason, but worry so much for. Yes, he’s autistic, but I see in him, potentially, the anger and alone-ness that filled me at that age with a fury I still haven’t dispelled. I hated seeing him get in trouble, winced to hear him cry and scream like a much-younger child. I tried to spend time letting him jabber at me about his special interests, and was as lenient as I could be about the language. God, he’s funny and smart, though.

Younger Nephew, Winky I sometimes call him, is as sweet as his brother is bad-tempered, always asking me how my day was and worrying if he caught me sad. I spent time with him learning eagerly about Pokemon, his biggest interest currently, and playing video games with him. Does anyone remember the ‘80s movie “The Wizard,” about the little boy who was a genius at video games? That kid has nothing on my Winky. Two minutes into a brand-new game, my nephew is stomping over the bosses and finding secrets none of us knew about. He just started kindergarten after a summer of me beginning to teach him to read, and thankfully loves it.

Basically, I spent my summer helping Younger Sis with her kids as much as I could, since she’s so tense with her difficult eldest that she’s prone to scream at them over almost nothing. Now, being away, I worry for her, and them, and wish I could do something.

Yes, I’m away. Somehow (influence of the gods + me being partially disabled finally did something good for me?) or another, Youngest Sister (an abrasive but kind militant vegan) and I managed to land a gorgeous apartment in a brand-new building that looks like a fancy hotel, with it’s own doggy-spa room, gym, pool room, roof living area with big-screen TV, etc. And in a town that looks like it was made according to what I always most wanted to live in – pretty, full of parks and trees, a small-town feel with a TON of cutesy vintage stores and restaurants.

Everything I need is within easy walking distance. My New York-loving sis now lives a less-than-a-minute walk to the train that will take her there. I not only have my own bedroom again, but for the first time, my own bathroom. We’re still settling in, with so much to do (Youngest Sis has been granted creative control of common spaces and is agonizing over WHAT COLORS), but we’re settling in after about two weeks here. And I…love it. And that scares me.

I don’t talk about all the bad there’s been the past, well, many years. This blog is more about the past-life PTSD, but trust me, real life has been sucky for as long as I can remember, for the most part. Now I’m away from my rather-toxic parents and adored-but-needy nephews, in a beautiful green place and a spotless, roomy apartment. I found a free and basically on-demand ride to any medical appointments I’ll have, which are basically the only reason I ever need to travel more than walking distance. We might, MIGHT, get a dog, something I’ve wanted a long time.

And I don’t. Trust. It.

I feel like the other shoe will drop any minute. Probably, it won’t. Sis and I can easily afford our rent and bills here, the lease is long signed, we’ll be here at least a few or several years, if not longer. But I keep waiting for someone to say, “Bwa ha, you thought a good thing would last? Don’t you learn ANYTHING?”

For so long, I kept thinking, kept going back to the thought that the gods were heaping bad on me because they wanted me to kill myself. That I was supposed to, though psychics many of whom I partially trust have said that no one is ever supposed to. I thought I took on too much, and I did. But now I dare to hope that I got the bad all over with, and only good is left. I’m beginning to plan things for the future, to my surprise. I have a novella I want to get published, and another book I want to write. It’s just…been so long since I had, wanted a future.

You who read this, whenever you do it, do me a favor. I know you don’t know me, but still. Take a moment, ask whatever you pray to to not let a stranger suffer any more. That all that remains for me is the light.

Author: athlynne

"From mirror after mirror, No vanity's displayed. I'm looking for the face I had Before the world was made." - W.B. Yeats

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