It was a rainy February night, cold for Tampa Bay, when I found the kittens. There were 2, frightened and crying. One came to me readily, I thought it was alone until I heard another faint “mew” from the bushes that lined my front porch. Peering into the darkness, I could see the pitiful thing, muddy and shivering.
“Okay, then…you’re ok…” I muttered, fumbling back into my trailer with the soggy babies. Flipping the kitchen light on, I set them unceremoniously on the counter to see them better.
The larger of the two was beautifully marked. Swooping swirls of dark orange and white in a tortoiseshell pattern, with a bold white blaze between expressive gold eyes. Four little white boots and an extra long tail with a funny little bend at tip, like a question mark.
” The question is, where have you come from?” I asked.
She peered quizically over her sister’s back at the kitchen appliances. Her little sister was not as fortunate in the “looks” department.
“Oh my, you’re a little sad sack, aren’t you?” I picked up the tiny muddy kitten and my heart melted. She was as plain an orange tabby as ever there was. No white on her, not anywhere. Just a dingy yellow-orange coat, and tufty at that…
Do you ever wonder if you are sane? I do. Quite often. It’s really relative, if you think about it.(and I do). Because I do have relatives with dementia. But that’s not the “relative” I am referring to. (See what I did there? Pretty clever play on words, eh?) Reality, Sanity, Imagination, Unreality, Insanity. Don’t they all really depend on what we define them as? Sure, a learned man, a psychologist, these folks really know.
But for me, inside my mind, I only worry when I have trouble thinking about things. Things in my daily life that other people in my world seem to be able to do, things I struggle with. Bills are a bigee. Huge issue. I can see the amount I have in the bank, but I just keep sending payments without looking to see if I used all the money up. Like, if I don’t look, then maybe the money will magically cover the payments!
I don’t think that is sane. Nor is buying ice cream knowing I will eat the entire container, no matter how sick it will make me, which will , in turn, cause me to be angry at myself. Round and round the Insanity rolls.
“A THOUGHT MONSTER ESCAPES”
Do other people dwell on every interaction with other humans they have ever had on a given day? Repeating the scenario and mentally kicking oneself over a mispoken.phrase, a potentially misunderstood glance? Do others wish so hard for a “normal” sleep schedule but deliberately sabotage their efforts by drinking Mountain Dew and eating 6 cups of popcorn at 3 AM? ( Oooh,.that sounds really good, but it’s only 1 am!)
“Speaking of Yucky Things” c.STMartin2018
I rattle off a litany of nonsense during my therapy sessions, right after I go over all my real issues, mentally making note of what pressing issues to discuss…When I hang up all the important points rush back into my brain.
“the Many Manic Moods of Susan Todd!”My Art Lamp!
LOSING IT !!
I am ANGRY that I can’t think properly! I want to blame someone for my craziness. Hereditary, from Dad’s early onset Alzheimer’s. Or the unknown blood donor whose blood I was given at my birth in 1964. That surely did it! What about Mom’s agoraphobia, depression, hatred of my Dad? Mom’s mom had Alzheimer’s also, and wasn’t there a crazy Uncle? Wait, I’ve GOT IT: my ANCESTRY goes back to the Plantagenets!!Those INBREDROYALS!!
I’ll be ok…I won’t give up on trying to be a wee bit better each day at navigating life. I have to go easy on the me that has had 3 major head injuries, resulting in ongoing vertigo and headaches. Post concussion syndrome is a beast. So are the residual effects of years of emotional, sexual and violent abuse that was perpetrated on the child I was, and still am, mentally. Nor to be taken lightly is my Bipolar Disorder and the side effects of the medicines that decrease the symptoms. Or so many other pain issues I deal with daily.
When I go easy on myself, and take time to reflect on the beautiful gift of life that God has given me. And the undeserved forgiveness and mercy he bestows daily, then my heart is eased and it doesn’t matter quite as much if I have some confusion each day. I am grateful.
Out of the Gutter Art 
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