I helped my sister pack up her car this morning, then watched her car leave with her cat and boyfriend along for the ride. As soon as the moment passed, the nausea washed over me again. I started crying in the shower, for the situation, for my sister leaving, for Robin Williams dying. He is a perfect example of my "depression is no excuse" post that's so infamous.
The Nausea passed, and I went to work. My sister was home by my lunch break. She said it felt weird being back, and she cried thinking about living in Mom's level 3 Hoarder House again. She gets the same anxiety I do about it, although mine is so bad that I can't stand being in a Ross for more than a minute.
The house feels empty now with two less souls in it. I really miss her already, and I'm a little jealous that she's back. I had a brief moment of euphoria after she told me she made it. It was so easy to pack her car and she was home within a day, surely it won't be that hard for us.
Then the moment passed.
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