Feline Ruminations

No format. Streaming along at will and whim. I have trapped myself by feeding a rogue cat who stays in our neighborhood. He intimidates my cat and has taken up residence on our deck. My intentions were good. Not thought through but good. Tonight my cat came towards me and then ran away when he saw the other cat and we did this for about 20 minutes during which time I tried to stuff the rogue cat into a cat carrier to buy me some time to get my cat in the house. But...as might be expected, that cat would have no part of that cat carrier. The thought of the carrier did slow his roll a bit giving me just enough time to scoop up my cat and go inside. 

Cats can go from regular flesh and bones to boneless with no form in about one second. When they go limp they slide from your arms in one fluid motion, land on the ground and walk off with a smug, shape-shifting grin on their mugs.

 Or, and this is much the less desired one, they become a cat body with stiff, outstretched legs and claws extended. It is impossible to deal with them in this mode. This is the posture the rogue cat chose when I tried to put him into the cat carrier. 

Cats aside, tongue in cheek, because they are never aside. It is diabolical to suggest that elderly people would benefit from the companionship of a cat. Cats have perfect timing. Mine casually stroll in front of my feet as I am walking through the house. I grab anything in sight to keep from falling and I give that cat a lecture. The cat's eyes get huge and his tail goes upright, swishing and swaying back and forth. There is no way this creature is hearing what I am saying to him. I don't think he cares because when he takes a notion, and he takes a notion often, he strolls into my path again. 

There is information available with suggestions on how to give a cat a bath. Those directions are for super humans who have no fear. I am average and deeply respect the opinion of the cat on the subject of a bath. If necessary I could represent the cat in a court of feline peers. That is how much I am not planning on giving any cat, much less mine, a bath. Case closed.

 Who knew I was going to talk about cats? A show of hands, please! Well, I sure didn't know it. I am always the last to know.

I Am She (Revised and to be continued)

   She sat hunched over a hot mug of coffee, sweetened with sugar and mellowed with creamer. Her intentions had been good. Today was going to be an ordered day. Things would get done at home. Problems would be solved. 
In the time it took her to lift the coffee cup to her lips a list of tasks to be done filled her mind  In the time it took her to take a drink of the coffee and place the mug back onto the table she forgot the tasks, forgot her list of first things first and fell into a reverie of random memories. Getting still in body and mind created a hole in her soul from which all manner of whimsy, drama, quilt, shame and magical thinking often poured. Frenetic activity closed off the hole and lessened her vulnerability. For this reason she doubted the diagnosis of ADHD. She believed her incessant moving of arms and legs, her procrastination, her impulsiveness and tender heart, linked together with a vivid imagination were the tools she used to stay away from that awful hole in her soul. Intuitively she knew her perspective was flawed. There would be a day of  reckoning when her energy would run low, when magical thinking would not work and she would be left vulnerable and frightened.   
Thinking of herself as vulnerable shifted her mood. She dug deep within to access the anger to mask the vulnerability. Even this tried and true skill was becoming difficult. She felt rather than knew the control slipping away from her. A sharp pain of angst knifed through her heart. Time was short. The day was coming when she would have to face herself without an armor. Or so she thought on that particular day.

                                                                

Snippets and Maybe More

As a bonafide insomniac my days are long and it is a good thing because I could never fit all of my day into just one day.

I guess it is safe to say that life is a bit out of whack at the moment. When I cannot remember if I slept at home or at my mom's or if I slept for real or on the couch in brief naps followed by waking moments followed by brief naps there is a disconnect. My today life is scattered out over two counties. I experience a sense of being suspended in mid-air with no way up or down. I ponder the gravity of my situation and immediately avert my eyes from the truth. Truth is a mean spirited bitch at times like these and truth will preserve my sanity. So, is truth schizophrenic? I know I am not and neither am I. (Levity at a time like this, dear ones) 

The sorrow wrapped itself around me as I left the rehab/nursing home this afternoon. On the way to the parking lot I heard a bird calling out in a loud sing-song warble. I stopped to find the bird in the adjacent trees. It called out again. I could not see him through the thick foliage. The moment I said, "Well, I can't spot him!" (said to myself, that is) he swooped from one tree to the tree beside me. Much larger than I expected and silent now he seemed to have flown close to me just because he could and I liked him for that; I surely did like him for that.

One hundred years later...or two days, but who's counting.

We had the exit interview at the rehab/nursing home. October 20th is the come home date. Mixed feelings. Mine. Not his. Nursing homes have given me a new appreciation for the life I have outside them. The child in me is intimidated by all the suffering. The adult in me is in wonder at the graciousness of many of the people who are there long term.

I gasp as a pang of sorrow tears through me. If the doctor's are accurate there is not much time left of the option to come home. Well, I assume the option is always available. The hellish part is making the decision when it is an option and the person you love is the  person for whom you must decide that option. 

A few days later....it is early in the a.m. and I am not in bed yet. I am on the bed and I have done all but get in it. There is so much happening each day. I forget that I am 65 and I, accustomed to the constant changes as a child, young adult...o.k....constant changes since birth, find this change challenging beyond what I can think or imagine. I want to freeze time until I can catch up with it. Pipe dreams, magical thinking, the imaginings of a woman who craves for a simple answer to an equation which totaled up bears grim news. I cannot get the look on my husband's face to fade. I crave solace. I crave a long, deep hug and a lap to place my head on. Star light, star bright, first star I've seen tonight.....

Two Sides of The Same Coin

I searched for some time before I found these two items, a cartoon and a quote. They do not appear to be related but the minute I placed them in this post I realized they are the perfect representation of the dichotomy that is me. 

Hurricanes, Nursing Homes and Insomnia

A triple threat to my psyche so powerful that I had a dream that I was in a situation that involved many people I know and a house where a party was going on and deep mental confusion and sorrowing and despair on my part with random people comforting me and I kept saying I had to get to my doctor because I needed to be hospitalized and every time I said that I would get distraught and remember I was not at work but I should be and I had not called my boss and I was not capable of calling my boss because I was mentally out of control so I sobbed and tried to find my way out of this house. I found my way out only to find myself in a car in Pennsylvania with three or four people who knew me and they were freaky and we had a flat tire and I asked where we were and they said Pennsylvania and I freaked because I did not even know I was in the car much less going to Pennsylvania and then some locals gathered around the car and offered to fix the flat tire but I am paranoid and say in a stage whisper to my friends that we should get out of there and all the while I was freaking out because I was in Pennsylvania and I had just been in a house and Micah did not go to school that day despite me asking my son repeatedly if Micah was going to school and a rock band came to the front door of that house and yelled in at us and I asked what their gig was, like, jazz or rock and they played rock and roll and I kept saying I needed to call my doctor because I was in serious emotional trouble and needed to be put in a hospital and I could not remember where I lived although I thought it was an apartment but I could not remember if I had paid the rent or if my memory was accurate and that freaked me out because I could not focus and then I was in Pennsylvania and then I was in a warehouse on a base but I could not find my way out and did not know which base or how to get off the base and in my frantic searching I wandered into a gym of marines working out with weights. I stumbled around them asking where I was and how could I get back to a main road. I ended up in front of the warehouse/gym but could not recognize any landmarks so I started crying and crying and I lost it but whoever was with me kept telling me to be quiet and I could not figure out how I was suppose to do that under such stressful conditions. I wanted to go to my doctor but now it was almost 5 p.m. and I did not know where I was or where I needed to go and the freaking enormity of my situation kept overwhelming me and I would break down for a minute and then kept trying to find out, in the name of all that is horrific in dreams,

how I was going to make it and the phone rang and woke me up and I did not go to sleep again. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

So Today...

Days have passed. I begin to write and change my mind. The conversations in my head run off in different directions like giddy children released from school on a Friday afternoon. Tonight I am staying at a friend's house. She is out of town so I have the place to myself. It is a luxury and a much needed break in the action. 

Today I was in traffic on several occasions. On the way to New Bern I encountered a traffic jam. It was obvious there had been an accident far enough ahead that I could not see the emergency vehicle lights at first.

Oh dear, I have writer's block again and again and again. Writer's block is frustrating. I am going to flow randomly (which is a surprise to no one says she).

Tree tops full of tiny birds singing and chirping with vigor. Any alien noise silences them. Often they lift up in unison leaving a tree for an adjacent shrub. A glimpse of one intrigues me. Their feathers reveal subtle colors as the sun highlights them. The moment is brief. Their singing is joyous, incessant and often the only evidence that a tree or shrub is full of tiny birds.

my cat sat with his face against the living room window as i walked to the car. he knew, long before I finished gathering items, that he was going to be left inside and that I was going away for the night. He mouthed a meow my way. Clever feline knows I have a heart easily melted by sad looks and plaintive meows. I averted my eyes as I climbed into the car. When the engine came alive I glanced towards the window. My cat had moved away. I was relieved and disappointed. Emotions are capricious. mine follow a predictable path. i know my cat resigned himself to his fate earlier than i was prepared to let him off the hook. when i glanced to see him in the window he was, no doubt, making himself happy at the food bowl. funny how a cat can flip a finger in our direction when he has no fingers at all. i drove out of the park with a taste of humble pie in my mouth. a bit of envy i experienced reflects my own wish to resign myself quickly to unpleasant moments yet manage to convey disdain.