I'm In Hermit Mode
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Written by Kodi Wolf at 10:11 AM
I think the stuff with Akasha is hitting me harder than I realized. I haven't been responding to any of the e-mails I've received since the end of November (when Kash was diagnosed), even from my sisters. I only just today started answering them.
Granted, I usually can take upwards of a month to reply to e-mails (shyness delays me at first as I try to get past my social anxiety to actually communicate with another human being, and then there's my forgetfulness if I get sidetracked by something else in the middle of writing my reply before sending, so that the e-mail ends up getting buried in my Inbox as new e-mails come in).
But I think this has been more about me feeling overwhelmed to the point that I don't want to deal with anything that isn't immediately necessary.
What's funny is that in an actual crisis situation, I tend to do fine. In fact, I usually take charge. One of my sisters says she's very much the same way. It's what makes her a good paramedic. She finally has a focus for all her anxiety. But I think it's more than that.
Most people don't experience the level of constant anxiety that I do. Most of the time I don't have anywhere to channel it, which is where my sister's explanation comes in, but I also think that because I feel it all the time, I'm acclimated to it, so when I'm finally in a situation that would panic most people, I feel fine because it isn't really any different than what I normally feel. I'm used to it. So, while everyone else is trying to cope with the new feeling of freaking out, I finally not only have a focus for my anxiety, it's also something I live with, so it's just another day for me.
But this stuff with Kash... It's just this emotional roller coaster that doesn't seem to have any possible good endings.
One day, she looks like death warmed over, and Corene and I are discussing if it's time to euthanize her because she clearly hates taking the medications and being stuck with a needle to get subcutaneous fluids every other day, and we really hate putting her through all that.
Then the next day, she'll crawl into my lap and flip over to expose her belly for some rubbing and I'll actually hear her purr a little (she's always had a whisper purr, unlike Felix who you can hear in another room, but since Kash has been sick, she hardly purrs at all, or if she does, it's just a vibration, no real sound). She never quite gets back to the way she used to be, but those little indications that she's feeling better (wanting to be pet, purring) seem so huge in comparison.
Sometimes, I wish she would just die in her sleep, so it would be over, but then I try to imagine not having her around, and I pray today won't be the day, so I can have her with me just a little while longer. Talk about feeling ambivalent. I think I'm the poster child at the moment.
Where do you draw the line between what's best for her and what you hope or wish for yourself?
I want her to have a good life and I think she's had that so far with me. I've always kept her fed and warm and made sure she got her shots every year and took her to the vet when she was sick. Other than pining for a boyfriend (she is such a little slut kitty, if it's male, she has to be near it), I don't think she's really wanted for anything.
Now, though, it's hard to say whether the good times are outweighing the bad or the other way around. It seems like more and more she's choosing to be by herself, which isn't her norm, but she's seeking out the spot in the sun on the kitty tower by the window or on the floor, so I don't consider that the same as when she was really ill and sleeping in the middle of the bed in the dark when we were in the living room watching TV (which is when she usually asserts her rights as a lap kitty).
But then there's times, like right now for instance, where she's chosen to follow me into the office and is currently curled up in my lap. And if I reach down to pet her, I'll get a brief purr in response, as she settles in deeper.
I've had Kash for all of my adult life (she was born less than a month after my 18th birthday from a stray cat my sister had taken in). I want to do what's best for her, but I don't think I'm ready to let her go. Not that I ever will be, but I just don't know how I'm going to make that decision, if and when the time comes. But I also don't want to force her to continue a life that has become more pain than joy with no hope of getting better. That goes against all of my beliefs.
I just can't imagine my life without her, but I know that time is coming. It's just a matter of when.
Comments:
Roarin' Fire said...
March 5, 2009 10:41 AM
I love you, baby... I wish I was home now, so I could hold you... or you could hold me and wipe away the tears. Just know, that I am here for you.... come what may, I am here, baby.
