Conan – adopting a kitten


The day after I had failed my driver’s test, my husband had to drive me home from work since I obviously couldn’t do it myself. As I was gathering my things from the car, he starts walking towards our apartment, but stops right at the bushes planted around the outside of our building. 

“A kitten just ran inside the bush!” he loudly whispers.

When I looked inside the bush, I saw this shivering, scrawny, angry ball of orange fur. It had rained that day so he looked like more like a drowned rat than a kitten. He let us know how pissed off he was about his current situation of being wet and cold in a damp bush with quiet hisses that sounded like air being let out of a bicycle tire. While trying to get him out of the bush, he scratched my husband’s arms with his paper cut claws, prompting me to grab a towel to wrap the kitten in so he wouldn’t maim either of us as we brought him into the bathroom.

Spicy Kitten immediately hid in the corner behind the toilet the moment he was set down on the floor. He viciously swatted at anything that got too close, including the soy sauce dish I had put a little milk in. I left it with the spilled milk and messaged a friend who fosters kittens for advice, who told me to create a safe space for him and sit with him while calmly talking to him. I had an extra cat bed our other cat, Scarlett, never uses and I had just gotten a couple boxes that day for the purpose of shipping stuff.  

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Mummy’s Marvellous Medicine – a journey with psychiatric medication


Let’s talk about meds and maternal mental health. I write this on the precipice of being free from one of the meds that held me together during the worst time of my life. 

I don’t know whether to start at the beginning with my medication journey or go backwards from what I’m on now… for the sake of my sanity let’s be chronological and go way way back to the dark days of my youth. Looking back, though they weren’t that dark compared to what awaited me in new motherhood.

Pre-Motherhood Meds

I took my first antidepressant as a university student. I remember going to the doctor and actually asking for them. I’d heard in particular that Seroxat was meant to be good for social anxiety. So, after a l-o-n-g discussion with my doctor I came away with that golden prescription for a mind altering pill. Did I need them? Oh that’s the million dollar question isn’t it? Who knows? Maybe I would have been okay without them. Maybe they made all the difference. Who knows because we don’t have a time machine to go back and do things differently.

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Intimate Strangers – mutual support

By Ben;

Margaret Thatcher said that there is no such thing as society. I can’t help but think that was just for the rubes, because she was smart enough to know better. Who made her clothes? Who grew the food she ate to survive? Who did her hair and make-up? Who made the microphone she said that into, and who recorded it? Perhaps most importantly, why does what she say matter any more than what you or I say? All of those questions can only be answered if you admit that Thatcher was part of and dependent on a vast, intricate web of people far beyond her family and friends, even if she denied it. We are all in that web, we cannot live without it, and I believe, contrary to Thatcher, that we all have a responsibility towards it. Pretending it doesn’t exist is only a ruse that is employed to justify antisocial behavior on a grand scale.

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Where to go? The struggle of disassociation and fear.

Fear, hopelessness and sorrow can cause us to try and separate ourselves from society, not just out of self-protection but, also, self-detachment or disassociation. It can be difficult to take any action because we lose touch with our self. Without the guidance of interests, passions and hopes, inertia can result.

I don’t know much about myself at the moment, but, I know that I sometimes am interested in reading and, also, history. I question myself whether these interests are just another means to avoid action and enable disassociation.

Moreover, they’re not consistent guides, as, for example, my choice of reading is irregular and depends a lot on chance. Lately, I have been mostly moved to leave my home for either walks in nature or to attend places of historical memory, especially, museums or cemeteries. In one case, this was triggered by reading a biography of a famous writer. I still don’t have a sense of taking necessary and important actions and have doubts about why I am doing things but, I do feel that these interests are worth holding onto for me.

Continue reading “Where to go? The struggle of disassociation and fear.”