Sunday September 7, 2014
Dear FancyPants (a.k.a. Cleo)
I hope all is catnip and squishy food over The Rainbow Bridge. Be careful of substance abuse. I’m not particularly worried since your sense of smell was weak, thus dampening the effect. Sucks to be you. I hear when you’re (you, as in Cat) high on the ‘nip it essentially the big O. Yeah. that’s what I wrote. You missed out.
The Man Human says that he still sees you around out of the corner of his eye. Those Fancy Pants a millisecond after you find a cozy hiding place; Or feeling you brushing past against his leg. Looks down. You’re not there.
We know you visit to make sure we don’t forget you. How could we? Your pictures are all over the place and you’re my FaceBook header and profile pic sometimes. (Yes, I know you think my profile picture should always be of you. SorryNotSorry. I do have other things going on, you know. sheesh.)
Oops, your favourite ADHDH showed up…I know you’re mocking me as you read this. Can felines even read? -more> Suspension of disbelief it is.
What was I saying (writing? typing?)…
Oh. Right. You visiting us because you miss us.
Sometimes I see you just as you finish turning the corner. I’d know that stumpy tail anywhere. So, thanks for letting us know you’re still with us, eaven if for a mere glitch in Time.
I hope you don’t take this personally; Man Human said He thinks he’s ready for another cat. That he misses having a cat. Uh,you. I mean he misses havingyouaround. Me? I felt guilty for wanting to having another feline. How do you know when you’re ready to move on? Of course not to replace you. But because I’m lonely at home while Man Human is away for work.
It was really comforting to have you at home the past year. Sure, you kept your distance and sat at the foot of the bed, facing the doorway as Head of Premesis Security, Manx that you are.The fact that you came to sit with me on the bed helped me feel less alone. I’m touched that you graced me with your presence. No really.
It also made me feel like I mattered. You relied on me for sustenance. And Temptations. (You know it’s a fact).Don’t worry I’ll keep my mouth shut about having to rely on ~heaven forbid~ a Human for survival.
Social Anxiety is a paradox, isn’t it? I’m so anxious about other thinking of me negatively to the point where I housebound for over a year, and yet I bitch that I feel lonely.
It’s not as if Man Human didn’t ask me to go out and do stuff. I was asked to help with grocery shopping, running errands and keep him company in the car, to stop by a friend’s house… I know it’s been really hard for him to watch me wilt; from the familiar outgoing and friendly Woman Human to how I am now. He comes home from work to see me still in bed, or on a good day, I’ll be out of bed and showered, watching TV, or something productive.The majority of the time it’s the former.
No motivation to do anything because it all so overwhelming. Pointless. And the Social Anxiety makes it so stressful that it takes deep breathing and self talk before I can return a call. Getting out of the house to get the mail? More often than not just the thought of getting out of bed causes paralysis of will.
I don’t answer my phone if I don’t recognize the number. That’s normal? It worse than just avoiding the call; listening to the voice mail used to have me so tense I didn’t realize I was literally holding my breath when I did manage to access my voicemail…mailbox. I knew that listening to the messages reant that I’d have to follow up or remind me that I have social obligations. Whole new level of avoidance – even the *thought* of having to not only return the call, I’d have to apologize for the delay in following up. I figured if I didn’t listen to the messages, then I wouldn’t be faced with Real Life.
Being /feeling oblighted to talk to people who were ridiculing me or irresponsible, rude, disrespectful – take your pick – left me paralyzed.
Yet I wanted – no, yearned to be confident enough to go out; do stuff like take a walk, ride my road bike whiche I haven’t ridden in two years. I was even feeling guilty that I was letting The Husband down.
I know it hurt him that Social Anxiety was like an invisible force keeping me locked in the house, my bed. It did feel like that, going to get the mail was a task I had to give myself a freaking peptalk. Thinking about how isolated I felt was an extra pile of shit to weigh me down, so I my brain basically shut down and went into fight or flight mode. Flight – avoiding -always won. It’s making me nauseous remembering how bad it was. I know, I know, you’re itching to Bitchslap some (O.K. more than some) sense into me.
I hear you loud and clear:
Suck it up Princess, pull up your Big Girl Panties & fucking make Social Anxiety your bitch.
– matter-of-factly, of course. If only it was that simple. I’m trying though. It’s a little bit easier now that my meds have been adjusted. Even from the grave (figuratively), Your Highness Queen of the Seymour River Jungle, your superiority finds its way into My Psyche. How do you do that ~ telepathic power? Can all cats do that? Oooo, Sense of Humour just showed up. Good indication that I’m feeling better for sure. For now.
Yet, you know Eternal Cynic Within Me is pointing out
If not for that “downward spiral” shit to being housebound, I wouldn’t have been home in your last days, your last hours.
I would’ve come back from going to the store maype, to find you seizing. Or worse. You gotta I’m so glad I was there to hold you so you knew how much we loved you. How much we wished you could live forever.
Now that you’re gone, The Voice of Reason is taking your vncancy saying: FancyPants doesn’t need your help anymore.
Stop trying to be the hero, stop playing the victim; whichever is convenient at the time. Who’s *really* keeping you prisoner inside this huh?
Zing. Point taken.
You and The Voice of Reason make a ridiculously strong team. Have you two considered starting up a law practise together? Right. You don’t “play well with others” because you prefer your indepence. See? Sense of Humour keeps me from falling down into that Downward Spiral (why is it a spiral?).
I like making people smile, I miss joking around with people
You know what? It is time to stop Bullshit Excuses. I owe it to you, for using you, I guess. Oh, sorry; I’m not guessing, I know it’s time to stop and reevaluate.
And before you telepathically bestow me your feined hurtful expression, I will add that I do owe it to you for poking, prodding…harrassing you the past 8 years. I know no matter how indignant you act, that deep down you needed Man Human and I as much as we needed you to make life better. I’ve known it all along. I may (or may not) have felt guilty whenever I subjected you to photoshoots with the crocheted “crap” ~ as you call it ~ on you. Sorry about the sweater. I didn’t realize that the yarn was going to make it so stiff you’d tip over when you tried to lie down. I gotta say though, the glare from you was hilarious. And so was the helplessness after you realized you were basically screwed.You have to admit, the crocheted pylon was genius, despite once again, being subjected to your glare.
Right, I’ll get to the point. I can sense your amused expression – ADHD amuses you so much. I know you and ADHD enjoy hanging out. But guess what, *FancyPants*? I don’t mind it so much because ADHD makes it fun to laugh at myself. And yes, *FacePalm* still does make an appearance even now that you’re not here to keep my sense of humour intact. I’ll let *FacePalm* know you say hi. (You’re welcome.)
I gotta get on with my day.
Thanks for helping me sort through my…*issues*:
* it’s OK to get another cat after you’ve died.When we feel ready.
* Sense of Humour and Voice of Reason will help me out. Keep them close by.
* Stay away from Cynic and Excuse(s), they’ll drag me into their dark side
*Suck it up, pull up your Big Girl Panties & fucking make Social Anxiety your bitch. (insert Bitchslap here)
* ADHD is actually more fun than I realize.
* ADHD+SoH+*FP* =NinjaCrew to Make SA My Bitch (N.C.T.M.S.A.M.B.)
Don’t be a stranger,
Your Woman Human
P.S. Man Human is back Tues we’ll call Linda to sprinkle your ashes where you loved lounging like the Feline Queen of the Seymour River that you are; we’re on it. Aren’t you glad you didn’t end up in the freezer until the ground thawed out like she did to Randy? You khow, if you miss him, we can bury you with him. Yeah, I’m joking.