August 31, 2006

Nite Nite Kitty

Part of me is relieved today. The curse of threes is complete.

My kitty was put to sleep last night as my mom held him. He lived to be almost a full 18 years old ... and from an alley cat beginning too, literally.

My mom found him in the alley behind her office one day. The staff had gone to treat a medical emergency in the alley and she noticed him afterward. The doctor that lived across the alley said he had been hanging around lately. She took him and put him on the doctor's porch out of harms way. The little kitten was still sitting right where she left him when she went to go home.

I still remember naming him when I was only a girl. My mom brought home the tiny tabby in a cardboard box. I had just seen The Land Before Time and wanted to name him after the lost little dinosaur with no family, Little Foot. The name did always feel right for him. He was an adventurer, a survivor, curious, and full of love. He was never a stereotypical snob cat. He didn't like to be held, but he would rub on you and nuzzle with you for hours.

Always the cat that wanted to try to run outside, to find something new and interesting, he got himself and the others in a bit of trouble from time to time. They never had his spirit though - too scared to really venture out and too timid to know what to do in their new surroundings when they did.

Before the divorce, he had our German Shepard to count on when he managed to get out without us noticing. They'd be curled up sleeping together in the morning, her keeping him warm in the cold desert night. Later, he had to fend for himself when he got out. Gone missing for an entire week, he managed to do just that. No claws, in coyote country, vulnerable to birds of prey, and still he managed to come back in one piece without a scratch.

The doctors told us he should have been dead two years ago, that he would never make it once he left the hospital, but he went on living his laid back, sweet ways and proved them wrong. He had his ups and downs since then, but he had a good run of it.

I will never forget the way he would squeek to meow or the way he would reach his paw out as far as he could and tap your leg to remind you that he was there. Now I will have a plaster mold of his paw print to always remind me instead.

Posted by: Princess Cat at 03:55 PM | Comments (17) | Add Comment
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August 30, 2006

ThereÂ’s A Hole In The World Today

A strong woman turned into a quivering voice on the other end of the phone, “He is too weak to move.”

Focused sirens intent on their task disrupted my quiet neighborhood.

She didn’t know what to do, “I always said when he lost his dignity …”

Three stretch limos rolled by.

Mom called this morning with the strength to talk about my cat, at first. Somewhere about half way through the conversation the woman in pain, the woman losing her only companion since being walked out on 8 years ago, came through. Her heart was breaking and she could not hide it any longer.

My cat will die this week. I have no choice. He will die. She will never be sure she did the right thing, no matter how he dies. The ache of self-doubt will haunt her with every piece of his life she puts away to stop the reminders of what will not be. The silence of her empty house will be enough to make her ears bleed.

I have been prepared for two years to say goodbye to him, but I am not ready for this to be his week. My mom is not ready for this to be his week. She is not ready to lose the last piece of the family she built, the family she still dreams about and will never have.

The passengers in motorcade that drove by must be feeling something of the same things. Three stretch limos and no less than five other vehicles with their hazards on followed the ominous black hearse as it drove by. Did they get to say goodbye? Did their loved one have a good life? Do they doubt themselves and what they could have done? How will they fill the hole that is left? Will they be able to mend their broken hearts?

Desperate tears seeking guidance are falling across the world today.

In moments like these, I can’t help but be convinced that empaths are real. I am covered in a heavy cloud of thoughts and emotions that are not my own. I am crying the tears my mother has put away so that she can go to work. I am aching to hug the people that drove by and tell them that I understand. I am praying for rain. I am praying for a long, heavy, downpour of rain – the kind of rain that you cannot feel until you have been soaked to the bone and a still peace has been brought to your core.

Dear God, please let the rain find those hearts that so badly need a rest. Please, let them find their peace. Please Â… just rain Â…

Posted by: Princess Cat at 01:37 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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August 22, 2006

Take Back Your Superpower! I Want A New One!

I hate being aware
I hate being able to "read"
I hate being able to see the psychology behind actions

There is nothing I can do to change the situations. No matter how much I scream inside, no matter how much I calmly explain what is going on, the outcome is the same. Vicious cycles of self-destruct and pain go on, unhindered ... waiting to spiral out of control.

People don't want to know they are being read. People want to believe that they are above basic behavioral psychology and complicated enough to be unexplainable.

They usually aren't.

Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances to explain behavior that are not outwardly visible, but for the most part ... people are people. They are motivated by generally similar and basic things, they make decisions in fairly simple and repeatable ways. Unfortunately, the drive for certain needs yields a retardation of the normal processes and people develop "issues" they again don't want to admit exist.

I want so desperately to put people behind my eyes, to save them from themselves, to hold their hand in a new direction ... but I can't.

Despite my own shortcomings and flaws, there are some things you just know you are right about. This is mine.

I want a new thing to be right about. This superpower sucks!

Posted by: Princess Cat at 08:23 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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August 21, 2006

Just When I Think I'm Invincible ...

The screen as gotten a pretty blurry today. I've reached some kind of threshold, I guess ... the tears just won't stop falling on this subject. I have a good job at a very people friendly company with good bosses practically being handed to me ... the catch? A commute of 2 hours, minimum ... each way. For the normal person, 30 minutes. So it is probably time to "confess" ...

As strong and accomplished as I may be ... as confident and capable as I have proven myself ... I am paralyzed in life. I have been for about a decade now. I try my best to keep it a secret from people for as long as I possibly can, but what was once fear has become a phobia.

I will not drive. I have never had a driver's license.

I have watched it take away my youthful adventures in high school, limit my college experiences, ruin relationships, hinder friendships, complicate family gatherings, destroy job opportunities, remove all hope of real independence, and leave me fairly isolated in the world.

But still, I will not drive.

People tell me that when it is inconvenient enough, the need to drive will supersede the fear causing me to avoid it. Or others say, when I am ready, it will happen. Talk like that just makes the pain worse. It is terribly inconvenient and how helpless am I to become before I am "ready" ??

But crying doesn't earn a license.

I have taken driving lessons, driven a neon, a jeep, a mini-van, a truck, and an SUV ... sometimes illegally without anyone else in the vehicle. I can physically perform the task - so long as the panic doesn't take hold.

And yet, I will not drive.

I can look myself in the mirror and know it is irrational. There is no cause, there is no reason ... My fears took hold long before I was in an accident or I lost my grandmother to the drunk driver. But even when I wasn't the driver and no one was seriously hurt, I was crying enough and my heart was racing so badly after the one accident that they had to put me on a monitor in the ambulance. I felt so stupid.

I end up feeling too crazy to drive.

When people find out I don't drive, I am embarrassed. When special arrangements have to be made on my behalf, I am humiliated. When people ask about it, I try to make the answer as brief as possible and change the subject; if I don't, I break down in tears.

I only avoid driving more.

It may not seem like it has the ability to control my life, but it does ... in every aspect, even the most basic ones. I cannot buy soda at the grocery store alone if I plan to buy much of anything else - I have to carry it home. I cannot go to multiple stores at a time because I do not have a vehicle to put my purchases in as I go along. I cannot buy ingredients my local store doesn't carry, unless someone else wants to take me. It limits where I can live, where I can work, places I can go, events I can attend, travel plans, etc.

I see the restrictions. I feel the pain. I wear the shame.

But how do you conquer a phobia that has gained such a firm grasp?

Posted by: Princess Cat at 03:30 PM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
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August 09, 2006

You Are So Beautifully Out Of Place

RSM got me to thinking about that pain that comes from within - those ones we all try our best to overcome, kick dirt on, or ignore - you know the ones ... self-doubt, insecurity, fear of not finding a place to belong ...

There are periods in my life where I feel like I'll never stop facing them. And there are points in my life where I let them dampen my experiences. But then there are also moments where I realize how I have held myself back with these pains and I try to be more aware.

Since moving out East, I've gotten a lot of the "you're not from here, are you?" from locals and transplants from long ago. Sometimes it makes me just a tad bit paranoid, thinking everyone thinks I don't belong.

On my bad days, I get down about it ... I let myself think I am the problem. I sit and wonder if I am just a freak that can't connect.

On my good days, I think to myself Hell no, I'm not from here. Thank God! But the place might not be half bad if people with manners and the ability to care lived here instead of people like you. And then to calm the bitterness, I think of someone else saying to me, "My, you are so beautifully out of place."

I don't think the pains will ever go away, for anyone. Somehow, I think they are the evil check on an out of control ego and arrogance run wild. The pains are normal. I think it is the ones that don't feel the pain that are the ones with the problem. Maybe they are naive, or emotionally insincere, or just plain stupid ... but they just aren't normal in my book.

But when it is an especially doubt-filled day where the pain seems to be the only thing you can feel, don't forget to sing to yourself these wonderful words:


It's undeniable how brilliant you are
In an unreliable world you shine like a star
It's unforgettable now that we've come this far
It's unmistakable that you're undeniable

Posted by: Princess Cat at 02:36 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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