I recently received a message from a priestess in Los Angeles alerting me that I had recently been cursed by a family friend who is envious of me and that’s why I’m not excelling in life. I really don’t see what there is to be jealous of; I’m a twenty-four-year-old with anxiety, depression and PTSD, genuinely nothing to be envious of.
The thought stressed me out though because of how demanding things have been lately. The work life is tough and taxing on the body; I really shouldn’t be having serious back pains at this age and finances are tight. Life is great, isn’t it?
However, darkness brings light and as down as I feel most days, I do put in effort to stay positive especially when I get to wear my new SIN hoodie with my name and title on it; my Mam is going to be proud.
St. Patrick’s Day in Headford town was spent working, but Dylan and I snook outside for fifteen minutes to see the parade; my Dad was marching in it for his soccer club, it was only mandatory that I see him and give a big wave.
This next anecdote is funny, but you would have had to have been there in person; I was up in the bedroom and Pipsqueak was taking a drink from his water bottle. I padded over to his cage and stuck my finger in to give him a little rub; he was so unaware of my presence that my finger scared him and he jumped back a few inches and landed on his back. I felt so bad, but laughed so hard and apologised aloud to him.
Mother’s Day brought flowers and chocolates, my Mam was overjoyed, but as every mother says: “Don’t you be getting me anything now, mind your money.”
My little brother, Cian, seems to think their house is haunted because he’s constantly hearing creaking noises. I know a lot about the paranormal and have had the same experience when I lived at home, but it’s merely the house settling, but try telling an overactive thirteen-year-old that. He’ll be fine once the teenage disco comes up at the end of March.
The day held some well-needed good news for Dylan and I; unsurprisingly making the cry-baby of the family shed tears. That cry-baby is me. We’re moving back to my Nan’s house in the city; the house deemed our forever home by my uncle. Our money troubles can finally end, we can save properly, be in a job where we feel respected, add a new canine family member and continue to dwell in a place that is sacred to me. A place where memories of childhood live in the walls and laughter still echoes. A place where we’ll be surrounded by old neighbours who became friends, who we miss and can’t wait to live next to again. I’m finally going home. Home. To keep fulfilling my promise to my Nan; a promise to look after her home for the rest of my days.
I feel this is because of her, someone up there was looking out for me and sprinkled some good luck our way instead of bad news. Our next chapter begins in June and this time there will be a good starting sentence, a deep relating plot and a permanent happy ending. Good things happen to good people too.