Time Blind But Not Unhappy

 I was looking for a blissfully honest headline title to start this post and that fits the bill. A lot has happened since Christmas. I’m not even sure where I left off but when the bad snow started, we ended up lodging an outside kitty I had befriended that I named Ziggy, and also taking in my long time scrappy kitty friend Stumpers and a lot of reassessment of my abilities and goals and trying not to age kicking and screaming.

Kitty sitch first. Ziggy was a scared skinny seemingly feral cat, one of those cats that seemed completely unable to be near humans. I had noticed him coming around every evening and then every morning. He usually disappeared in a fright when I opened the door, but like some of the other ferals, eventually ran less far away knowing the food was coming and eventually my voice and presence didn’t spook him. Then one day I sat on the steps a few feet away from where he was eating and he cocked his head to the left (a trademark I’ve come to adore) and crept towards me on his belly. I held out my hand and he suddenly got shy, ran back a few feet, head tilting and crept again. Repeating this a couple of times until his head nuzzled my hand and, guys, he just melted. A whole new cat, just endless affection and gratefulness, nuzzling and trusting, and my heart melted with it. I was bolder with him once we crossed this hurdle and he not only let me pick him up and carry him around but he started jumping on my lap and just rubbing all over my neck and face. I had a feeling then that he had either belonged to someone and been abandoned, neglected or even abused or, because he wasn’t fixed, his spraying was likely a nuisance to indoor living. It was for us at first when we brought him in but I kept him in my brother’s room and just used good enzyme cleaners until we could get him vetted. We didn’t want him around the other cats or peeing around the house, being aggressive or territorial with other cats… but I’m jumping ahead quite a bit. While he was still outside, he pretty much claimed the backyard but my Stumpy girl had taken over the front so they had an agreement. Like my other cats, they could get aggressive with each other for my attention at first but learned how to get along. Anyways, he was actually integrated into the household when Stumpers just invited herself in when my dad opened the door to feed her one day. She’s an old girl. She’s lived more than five years out there and beat the odds a lot. I accepted that her coming in might mean she was slowing down, even retiring until she retired permanently so to speak. It’s a thing I always dread but suppress lest the sadness swallow me. You cannot prepare for grief so don’t spend a moment of your life wasting time trying. She had an abscessed tooth and a stuffy nose, but she’s been eating and drinking well and oddly, the other cats have accepted her as a sort of matron and leave her at peace. Eight cats now. I never imagined it but they made their way into this family firmly and I do my best to give them each the time and attention they need. Cats can be mysteriously needy and aloof and there’s always a little friction as they understand territory and carving out time for each other and their humans. It can be a frustrating and demanding process but then one day, things click and you feel just perfect peace in that fit.

The rest? Oy, that’s long as is, I know, but weight loss is… not happening but I maintain the effort to move and function and find balance. I really want to get back on Vyvanse but damn, if doctors aren’t exasperatingly divided on their perceptions and ability to not make our life any harder than it already is by creating obstacles. Strattera sucks. I take it but I think mostly to remind myself to look into other options when I’m ready. Crafts? I poke at them but I burnout quite suddenly and then all I want to do is play video games. When I’m not cleaning or managing cat drama or minding my health in some other way. Very little comes without great effort.

I want to find remote work but I think that’s a pipe dream until I can get back on Vyvanse. My focus and function are way too chaotic to be confident I can even keep a steady job. I have been continually doing product testing and focus groups because it feels like a meaningful contribution in the meantime. It gives passive income that often goes towards health or craft goals.

I’ve still been seeing doctors but nothing is really changing. I still have a wonky digestive system, still can’t drop weight, still hope insurance can cover something that may change progress so I don’t need to get sicker to qualify. Make it make sense. But if there is a time I can appreciate a lack of focus, it’s when it comes to dwelling on what I can’t change. So I don’t. I’m always looking for the next squeeze through the crack towards that light of hope. Believe me, I find some interesting little nooks. Yet I’m still restless and dissatisfied and want something more stable. I don’t hate that I attract the unconventional. I just feel a little wistful for finding something normal, something that feels safe and connecting me to purpose and security. The rest I come by with little effort, but normal is something I press for with exhaustive effort and little return. 

Maybe it shouldn’t be this hard for all of us to find a place to fit into a life we want and need. I’m not deluded into thinking perfect happiness awaits. But I don’t think people realize what comes much easier to them eludes me far too often. I’m not bitter but certainly frustrated. I find many distractions in my day to fill it. But with introspection comes the knowledge that there’s still something missing.

So I embrace the paths I end up on. Sometimes I’m grateful to be lead along, sometimes I love the peace of anonymity and solitude, sometimes I don’t mind wandering off the obvious path and finding something truly worthwhile. Yet there’s an odd gap where what is normal for others is missing for me and it’s awkward to not have a simple answer. I’ve certainly tried as others do, but… I’m an oversharer and eventually I out myself as the weird kid. And if I don’t make you feel awkward, then I’m happy to end up entertaining you with the details. 

I’d love to get into details over the past few months but… man, it’s a lot of nothing and everything and I’m already looking for a way to bail out of this post. So I’ll leave it at this for now. 

Make a mess, make it happen and other things life throws your way…

 I guess I could go back and look at where I left off from the last post. From the title, I remember it was a good one, about how accommodations for neurodivergent quirks doesn’t have to be an effort, just a willingness to accept logic we don’t always understand. But for this one… well, I’ve had an eventful path on the lead up from Christmas craft crunching to here where I’m last minute struggling again for my sister’s birthday.

Starting with Christmas crafting, I gave myself ample time to get it all done and was way ahead of schedule. Then I started getting shooting pains through my face, jaw, teeth, neck, shoulder. I’ll skip the pages of exposition on the trips to the dentist and doctor that filled the two and a half weeks of pain before getting to the part where a week of Augmentin knocked out was a new way I discovered a severe sinus infection can terrorize a person. Needless to say, there’s a happy close to that chapter where I flip you some pics of the gifts I got done for the fam just in time for Christmas morning.

I apparently did not get a picture of the finished cat stitch blanket I made for my dad, just the first few rows, and I meant to get more of the Christmas village (the wooden house is the base that I added more to in that screenshot of a video clip…). Then there’s tacocat I made for Dameon, the bighorn bison steak zipup bag I made for Markie (from some Risk of Reign game he likes)… the little town diorama that I’m still working on (on hiatus while I finish crafts with deadlines)…

Then we got the sweater I made for my sister and our kitten Corvo blending into the crocheted Christmas stuff I’ve been making my dad for years too. Not sure if I’ve gotten to mention him yet since my dad rescued him in September and we’ve been in love with the little ball of fluff (that looks like a mini version of his new big brother Riddle) ever since.

I was a little scattered with remembering to take pictures, just happy to get it done when I got sidetracked those weeks lost in pain.

I wish I could say the mess stopped there. But no, the same night we took Corvo in to get neutered, I contracted a nasty bout of food poisoning. And since I already have moderate to severe gastritis and an inflamed cecum, it was actual hell that night puking up every little bit of what I ate that day then blasting it out in diarrhea the rest of the night. But I kept chugging Gatorade and staying hydrated and was somehow able to get in a car the next day to go pick the baby kitty up. 4 days later, I’m still recovering from the aftermath but this morning, I was able to get my ass up and drill some screws in a cabinet to secure a shelf, which if you know me by now, you know I often say fuck you to a bout of sickness with diving into some impulse project and that was it. That damn shelf slipping off the crappy plastic hinges caused me enough grief so it did feel damn good to tackle that with some new metal screws. Still got a stomach rumbling like an angry or sad Pokémon, and a bit of mucus that’s been padding out an abused throat but I can handle bending without breaking out in a cold sweat or a wave of nausea so I took advantage.

And now I’m trying to crunch in making a gift for my sister’s birthday.

Hopefully I can remember to share a picture of that and the finished little town diorama next. End of the month or the beginning of February. Barring any bastard of a sickness happening again. Atheist though I am, I’ll take your thoughts and prayers, good vibes/juju, or whatever else you think you’ve got in good with this mysterious universe. I could use a break.

Healing up with Corvo and cuddling with my big ginger kitty Weez while I crochet. And ever grateful to be feeling a little better each time I get a couple more hours sleep. Take the wins wherever you can. Sometimes they gotta do some heavy lifting for the setbacks.