For the past few years I have been observing the autistic traits of essentially everyone in my family, and have come to understand why we are not close: We all get on each other's nerves. I am estranged from some, and have distant relationships with others. If I'm telling the truth, I don't even want to spend time among them, and I'm glad I live hundreds of miles away.
My sister recently committed suicide. I see and hear about the frictions between her survivors, and they all seem to respond to each other in full prickle gear. They do all seem to be losing it. I counsel one niece who values my perspective and compassion. I hope for everyone's sake the funeral is over quickly and life starts to get a little more mundane (sometimes boring is good).
Life is a gift, and we have an obligation to enjoy it. That's my belief. Especially if one has a history of depression, sometimes one has to really, really try to enjoy things: maintaining at least a few friendships, planning pleasant events, developing enjoyable pastimes. I'm prickly too, but the difference is, I don't wallow in despair, I don't glorify suffering or victimhood, I pick my battles and even better, I pick my picnics.
Peace to you all.
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A finger in every pie.