Sunday was bad. The kind of bad that makes you want to throw the plates out the window and burn down the house just for good measure. The kind of day that makes even the thought of tomorrow unbearable.
It started because of a cat. I know, a silly reason to have a bad day but I can’t help that it’s silly. When you’re depressed, it doesn’t matter the reasons.
Saturday we went out to lunch followed by a trip to the pet store to look at the bunnies. The pet stores always have bunnies, and when you love bunnies like I do, you want to see as many of them as you can all in one place - even when you already have a snuggly one waiting for you at home. So off to the pet store we went. But it wasn’t the bunnies that had my full and undivided attention. It was a cat. A cat! For hell’s bells! I am not normally a cat person but this one had me captivated. He instantly mushed his face against the cage so I could squeeze my fingers in to pet him - and I was in LOVE. Total and complete love. I wanted to rip open those wire bars with my bare hands like the Hulk in a frenzy so I could rescue this adorable and patient bag of fur! If there hadn’t been children present I probably would have tried to pick the lock to free the cutest cat I’d ever seen.
But as it is, we don’t need a cat.
So my husband very gently took me by the hand and led me away from the mushed face still pressed against the cage. I started to get angry. Couldn’t he see that this cat wanted me? That he needed me to take him home and love him and feed him treats while he languished on a cushion made of silk? What was Jason thinking? This cat made me happy! Dammit, I couldn’t possibly be happy EVER AGAIN without this adorable creature splayed out over my lap every second of every day!
The next day I was still thinking about my cat. MY CAT. All caps are needed. The thought that he couldn’t come home with us left me inconsolable. Quite literally. I cried for 3 hours, took a nap, and cried some more. Jason just held me and then announced, that if I REALLY needed him, we could go get the cat. That stopped me in my tracks. I had been all ready to accept but I hesitated. Did I really want the cat? Or did I believe the cat could fix me? Did I think the answer to my depression was wrapped up in a white and orange ball of fur?
Yes. I did. I had to admit that I thought the cat could fix what’s wrong with me. And I know that it wouldn’t.
So then I cried some more.
No comments:
Post a Comment