So I’m at work, closing the store in an hour, and there are no customers. So I thought I could do a blog post. I moved out of my brother’s house. He was giving me terrible panic attacks, the worst I’ve ever had in my life. You might argue that I am responsible for how I respond to my environment, but I have panic disorder and he was triggering it. Personally, I think my brother was using cocaine, but he was definitely having mood swings. It’s a sad story. Anyhow, things were getting really ugly for me. I was sleeping on the couch and paying rent, being displaced in my own home, and all he ever said to me was “where’s my rent money?”
I love my brother. When we were kids, we were so lonely that we used to sleep in the same bed even though we each had our own bedroom. We would stay up late playing Name That Tune, humming and whistling the jingles from TV commercials and sitcoms… The Partridge Family, I am stuck on Band-Aid cuz Band-Aid’s stuck on me, I wish I were an Oscar Meyer wiener.
That was more than 40 years ago, but I remember it vividly. Unfortunately, my brother does not – and that’s because of the drugs he took in the 90s. One day, I won’t remember it either and then will be like it never happened.
But this is a happy story. I moved into an old wooden house where I have two female roommates, +3 doggies, and an ancient cat. The vibe is super calm And I really like my room. It has two large ceiling to floor windows which make it very sunny and airy. I feel like I hit the reset button and I’m the happiest I’ve been in years.