Purrsie and I have BOTH come to this piece of land for hope of a better life. We haven't figured it out yet and we're both skittish, lonely, but occasionally feel understood by the people around us. Today, I understood that Purrsie might appreciate a meal he/she didn't have to hunt for. It was a good feeling. I made a difference in a life. It's been a while. I have felt pretty useless for the last 5 or 6 months. Anxiety and depression keep you in your head and you become very self involved. It's not that you choose to be selfish, but when your mind takes the reigns, you have blinders on. Birthday cards are late, less and less contact is made and you self isolate which is lonely and comforting at the same time. You're "safe" in your cocoon of silence, but safe is not living.
I hunger to live a different life. That's why I am still here. Still fighting and still aching to be different. Yesterday, my therapist decided that it was best if we parted ways. The EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) started out helping, but the last two therapy sessions were way too traumatic for me. It took me about 2 days to get over the sessions. I believe it's a great method, but for me it's a little overkill. I am already a big time processor and feeler. Always dissecting, always trying to understand what and why I'm feeling. I think that EMDR is best for those who are more closed to their feelings. I was a little surprised by the revelation that I should seek other treatment. Feeling abandoned and a little given up on. I wonder if that's what happened to Purrsie? Did someone abandon this beautiful cat?
I know it is for the best and I will find another avenue of help, but rejection of any kind isn't easy. I'm left to my own devices, once again, to find some form of care that will help me navigate out of this aimlessness. Since August 13th, I haven't worked in the formal sense. Ever since the accident, I hear the sound of impact. Where the car swerved straight into me as I sat safely off the road. The peace I was feeling in the moments just before the accident were such a welcome reprieve. It had taken over two months to even get to that day. It was a Friday and I had just worked all week to make it my biggest payday of 2021. I was dropping off my last order and was unable to get ahold of the customer. I had time, I thought I'd just wait... Of course, now, I regret that decision. If I had just left. If I had just parked on the other side of the road. Ever since the accident, I smell the stench of airbags deploying all around me. It is a smell that I will never forget.
Two months previous came another sound that will forever be engrained in my mind. Fireworks. That's all it sounded like. Fireworks after loud pounding which, later I found out, was the sound of a big metal device pounding down my neighbor's door. That day, I spent an hour in the closet with my Cat, not knowing what was going on outside. That day, two people lost their lives on our street. That day, I learned that nothing is as it seems and thus began my paranoia. I eventually went 12 days without eating or sleep. Ended up at the hospital where I was told that there's not anything they can do. Prescribed me some sleeping aids. I slept and then ate and continued with therapy. Got a little stronger. Felt as if someone understood me. Got back to a good place just as the car accident took place. If I were in a video game, it was as if I'd leveled up, but progress wasn't saved. I went all the back to level one. If I could be safely seated on the side of the road and get smashed into, then anything could happen. Oftentimes, that song by Ellie Goulding just taunts me anything can happen... anything can happen... anything can happen...
Anything can ALWAYS happen. This is nothing new. The only thing new is my awareness. My mind has shifted to seeing all the worst case scenarios. When being honest about how I'm feeling or what I'm thinking, I've heard an array of helpful comments: You just can't think like that. You've got to choose positivity. You've got to see life in a different way. I know these things are only said to try and help, but it also implies choice. There are things that I CAN choose like watching the news or holding tight to a negative thought, but anxiety and depression don't always ask. It is not as if I serve myself a bowl of negative-os and pour on sadness milk each morning. I don't wake up and think damn, I'm alive, this day is gonna suck. I actually start the morning with great hope and strength and desire to have a beautifully healthy day. I start off mind over matter, but some days there's a tingling in my gut that says remember how calm you were BOTH those days? You were this relaxed. Then, the other shoe fell. Remember that sound? Remember that smell? It's coming... again. You aren't safe ANYWHERE!?!?? This is what I am up against many days. I do my best to push through, but even if I'm walking through life, it is there. Lingering. Just like Purrsie, the stray cat. I'm skittish.
I watched Purrsie this morning as she/he ate some of the burnt toast I put out for the birds. She jumped and looked over her/his shoulder often. Unsure of her/his surroundings. Unsure of her/his safety and security and rather vigilant to ensure said safety and security. I watched this and started to cry again. We have BOTH lost our confidence in our existence. Mortality is guiding all of our moves and making us less trusting and giving to the world as a whole. Purrsie knows that there is real danger for her/him out in the natural world full of coyotes, hawks, owls, etc. It can be argued that she/he has a reason to be fearful. But, I have reason too. In this fast paced, non feeling, get over it world, humans are expected to be instantly resilient and move onto the next victory or crisis. By those standards, I compare myself and feel less than. I want my life back. I want to be a productive, thriving, happy person. It's going to take me longer than the rest. The trauma has created a lasting impression and no one should have to apologize for that. Just going through the actual trauma was hard enough.
Some humans are able to brush off the emotions and memories of traumatic events. Those humans inspire me. I am more like a stray cat. I've seen some things and I remember. In my mind are the sights and smells of traumatic events and I move through the landscape around me a little on edge. I don't know where life will lead me and I hope to someday feel at home and secure, but for now, loud noises make me jump. I am grateful for those humans who seek to understand and who feed my soul with love. Some days I feel unworthy and other days anxiety and depression make it impossible for me to fully receive the love. Still, this is not my forever home. I will not live in this state perpetually. I don't know when I'll feel myself again, but for now I have a kindred spirit in a cat named Purrsie.
