Yesterday I had to say goodbye to one of my fur babies. Kaspar was not looking well at all when I woke up in the morning. He lay curled up in a corner and was breathing heavily. I picked him up and his stomach was really bloated. He tried walking, but fell over and let out a tiny scream. I screamed as well. He was clearly in a lot of pain.
I got an appointment at the vet and drove down there. The vet examined him and found a tumour in his abdomen. He had to be put down, my precious baby. I felt so helpless. He had shown no signs of being in pain before that morning. He was my little one and there was nothing I could do to help him. He fell asleep on my chest, my fingers stroking over his tiny body. Isn’t it funny how you can come to love a mere 125 grams of pure fluff so much?
I have my other fur babies, luckily. They know something has been up and have been trying to distract me with more playtime than usual and comforting snuggles. They’re good like that.
💭 Will I ever get better from my personality disorders or do I just have to accept that things will be like this? How can I maximise my quality of life and get the most out of it while living reduced with these symptoms?
💭 It feels like Spring. It’s a fresher air outside, it feels newer – like air revived. Maybe it’ll revive me in a sense.
💭 I’ve decided to stop using snus! No more nicotine for me. (Well, after the 10 boxes I just got in the mail yesterday, if I don’t manage to sell them to someone..) I’m way too addicted to it, and I’m tired of it. Good bye.
💭 I am beyond grateful for my four-legged babies. They always manage to brighten up my day no matter what. I’m so glad that Kalypso has settled in so nicely.
💭 “I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil” – J. R. R Tolkien.
Do you see Khaleesi mid-attack next to Koda, haha?
💭 I read this critique of a documentary that just came out here in Norway about a photographer named Lene Marie Fossen, who suffered from anorexia. It said “we are critical to the fact that the illness is portrayed as artistic and beautiful. We who work with this know that art and eating disorders don’t belong together”.
The first thing I reacted to was that it wasn’t her eating disorder that was portrayed as artistic and beautiful, it was the woman herself. Her courage and strength to create meaningful and outstanding photos despite her deadly illness.
The second thing: aren’t people with eating disorders allowed to be artists? Should they hide away in a dark corner where we don’t see them, stripped down to “eating disordered” being their whole identity? Lene Marie kept repeating in the film “first and foremost I am a photographer”. She was adamant she wasn’t an anorexic photographer, but a photographer who had anorexia. And that takes strength in a life consuming illness.
It’s been two hours since I got home and my legs are finally starting to calm down. My mind is a different story, it’s still racing one hundred miles a minute. For what? Grocery shopping. How can such a normal thing set me off that much?
It’s the people. It’s what I perceive as judging looks and mocking smiles; distaste and critique of my being. I’m certain that my perceptions are real, but I also know it’s a symptom of my AvPD. I know – and I don’t know – that it’s an overreaction and (hopefully) not true, so why am I still feeling this way? Shouldn’t me being aware of it have burst the bubble?
Over to something more related to the photos… I wanted to show you my spread from week 2. It turned out to be one spread due to my flu and being chained to the couch, and Thursday to Sunday was more like a summary. This week I’m more in the game again, and I’m writing every day. It feels good to be back on track.
The smell of lasagna has filled the room now, which means it’s dinner time. I hope everyone is having a good weekend! Tomorrow I’m going to the movies with my mom and my aunt to finish it off. What have you been doing this weekend?
Kalypso discovered birds for the first time yesterday, (or it was the first time she gave them any consideration), and she wasn’t quiet about it. Some “mreow, mreows” and that little “ka, ka”-like sound came out as the two magpies jumped from branch to branch in the apple tree in our garden. She went from window to window trying to keep up.
She’s still an indoor kitten, but it’s fun to see her get more curious about the world outside. I’m going to need to get her a proper harness so she can explore before I let her outside on her own when Spring arrives.
. . .
My cold is a lot better now. For three days all I could do was lie on the couch, even sitting was too exhausting. Journaling was out of the question, so my goal to do it every day of January kind of failed, and I’m behind on this weeks bulleting, which makes me feel awful. Writing and making collages gives me so much, so whenever I have a break I feel like I’ve lost something.
I had plans to dust off my math book and get started with studying again after my too long Christmas break today, but I had a doctors appointment and went grocery shopping afterwards and that was enough for me. That was enough exposure for one day.
I have this fear of studying. Or a fear of failure, of not being good enough. It’s paralysing. Maybe tomorrow will be a good day to try and challenge it again.