So my life is going really well right now.

I have a new job that I love, a little house that is my sanctuary, and enough money to pay the bills. I have friends and family who love me, and furbabies that help keep me sane. I had an appointment with my psych, who gave me an A+ and told me to keep up the good work (yay me!).

I’m really and truly happy, and I feel that I’m on the path to staying that way for a good long while.

And yet, I find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Things are going so well that it should be all sunshine and roses, but I’m peeking around corners waiting for the next “bad thing” to jump out and bite me. Because for me, it usually happens like that.

I’ll be cruising along, thinking the bad is behind me, and something will jump out of left field and bite me in the ass. An example? Right after I got my new job – and the day after my birthday – one of my kitties disappeared. My first thought was, “I knew things were going too well!”

We have a running joke in my family – because so much weird crap happens to us, our luck is bound to change eventually…and when it does, we’ll win the lottery. I joke with a friend who seems to have the same bad luck that I do that we should never go anywhere together, because something bad is bound to happen.

In the spirit of facing my fear, I’m really trying to shake the nagging feeling that a “bad thing” is imminent. Nothing is out to get me. I make my own happiness, and control my own fate, and won’t let anything get in my way.

Let’s hope it works!

About Jessica Wilson

My name is Jessica Wilson, I’m 35 years old and single. The single is (mostly) by choice, the 35 is not. I am mom to 5 furbabies, have become an avid runner, and own and operate a small business. I’ve been dealing with mental illness for as long as I can remember. I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety in my early 20’s, and continue to struggle with it or manage quite well, depending on the day. It very obviously runs in my family – my grandmother was bipolar, and mental illness can be traced back at least 3 generations on my maternal side, in various forms.

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