MeghanIsMe

Shit's been rough, lately.

I had to be away from social media for most of a week. Back then, I had spent a couple of days reading about the current research on Covid, trying to understand how dangerous it is in general, and how dangerous it is specifically for Miriam. I concluded that the answer is potentially very dangerous, if what Miriam has is long Covid. I'd had some hope that, maybe sometimes, with small enough groups of people, I could go out and do things, and I was working to accept the loss of that hope.

Then, right after all of that, Miriam went to work and people at her meeting were not wearing masks. That, on top of having spent the last two days reading about the dangers of additional reinfection, and reflecting upon the huge number of things I deeply long for that I am giving up, was too much to react rationally to. I was enraged. I was livid. In a later online meeting she was in, I heard the voice of someone who was in attendance and I was furious. And with nothing to really focus on, that fury turned into depression and feelings of futility.

There's a lot of depression and fear beyond the loneliness of Covid too. Every one of these things could get their own write-ups.
*Fire-related fear and trauma.
-Fear that a fire will happen while I'm away from the apartment and destroy my things and kill my pets.
-Fear that it will happen while I'm sleeping.
-Still not really over the loss of our cat.
*Gender dysphoria.
*Watching my partner deal with chronic pain, brain fog, and other symptoms on a daily basis.
-Fear that her symptoms will worsen and keep her from working, threatening my ability to stay with her in Canada.
-Frustration and anger that the healthcare system is failing her.
*Lack of Canadian residency.
-Inability to work legally.
-Lack of healthcare.
-Fear that I did something wrong with my application? Other people who applied when I did have finished the process entirely whereas I still have multiple steps left. .
-Fear that they found out I'm poly or transgender and will reject my application.
*Fear about finances and anxiety about spending money.
*Depression and lack of self-worth from Miriam supporting me these past three years.
*Can I even work safely and not expose Miriam to danger? Did I waste all that time and money on my MLIS?
*Inability to do things that were major hobbies and sources of enjoyment, including:
-Photography (all my gear is destroyed).
-thrifting (can't go to stores because of Covid).
-Traveling to see weird tourist kitsch (there isn't much of that in Canada, and getting to it would cost nearly $100 or more in gas to drive to).
*Cognitive problems on my part that leave me overwhelmed trying to learn more math or work with electronics. I wasn't like this before. Is it trauma, or do I have some form of long Covid brain fog too?
*Executive functioning problems in general. I have sometimes started crying when trying to figure out what to have for dinner because it's just overwhelming. Usually it's not that bad, but sometimes it is.
*Loss of my passport in the fire and inability to leave the country in a family emergency.
*Lack of money for consistent therapy (see being unable to work legally).
*My therapist is "over" Covid, so can she help me much anyway?
-Needing to find a new therapist?
*Trauma related to the condo. Will I be able to live there after the fire after it's renovated? Will Miriam? What do we do if we can't?
*Canada Revenue challenged our moving expense declaration from 2021, so we need to work on their paperwork.
*We haven't even finished and submitted our list of lost items for the insurance claim, and I have no idea how long that will take to process once we do. Will we be in an empty condo with no money for furniture?

Sometimes, it's hard to fight against the fear and trauma and anger and despair and be a functional human being. Sometimes I fail at it, like I did for a lot of the last week. In all honesty, if I didn't have Miriam, or if something happened to her, I would be absolutely lost. Sometimes that gives rise to anxiety and fear as I try to figure out what I'd do if something horrible happened to her, and I have no answer.

I keep reminding myself, and Miriam and I keep reminding each other, that life will not always be like this. These things will pass. It won't always be like this.

It's what keeps me going sometimes.

As I said earlier this year, that's really all I want out of this new year. To find myself in a position, at the end of it, where my partner and I can stop telling each other that life will not always be this way because it won't be anymore: It will have gotten better. That's all I want.

"He's behind me, isn't he?"

I have a lot of stuff to write about, but I still feel uncomfortable about writing much on social media. I may write on DW/LJ, and just keep interacting with other people's content on FB for a while.

Animals have the best timing. At one point this weekend while Erik and I were very much occupied on the couch, there was a bump against my leg. I looked over to see Fluffy, his dog, holding his empty bowl, looking at us as if to say "I don't know what you two are doing there, but you need to refill this as soon as possible."

Rufus, our foster Chihuahua, started a second seizure medicine a week ago. He had another seizure yesterday morning, but it was much more mild than the ones he's had before. Previously, his limbs would lock and spasm and he couldn't do anything but shake. This time, he was able to slowly move around, wobbling as though he was drunk, and was even able to eat a little if I fed him individual pieces by hand. It was a huge relief to see!

I don't know how long it lasted because I had to get to work, but he was doing well enough that I wasn't worried about putting him in the crate like I always do before work.

I didn't mention that Rufus tore another claw. Maybe it's more common with small dogs? It was most of the way off Sunday night, and on Monday it came off entirely. I only noticed because his foot was bleeding on the floor on Sunday evening. It stopped pretty quickly, and when we called the vet on Monday she made an appointment for him this afternoon. That's the second time he's hurt a claw like that, the poor little guy.

National Coming Out Day this year reminds me of how quickly the conditions in my country seem to be deteriorating for folks who are members of minority sexual orientations and genders, among other people.

Silence = Death. If you must be silent, I am doing my very imperfect best to be loud for you. You inspire me to try to make change; thank you.

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Yesterday evening, Miriam and I picked up our new foster dog, Rufus, from Evanston Animal Shelter. He's verah verah small. At five pounds, this little Chihuahua is less than half the size of our cat! I thought Piper was small, and she was over twice his size! It's a little weird to get my head around: he *seems* like a dog, but...



He was a surrender, and the shelter was told he's epileptic, but none of us have seen him have a seizure yet. He was also fed purely on table scraps, so we're going to have to wean him off of that and get him onto real dog food. For now, we have a bag of cooked chicken to feed him bits of. I'm going to start mixing it into some wet food as a start.

I think the stress from his situation change and the kennel plus the diet issues are giving him some diarrhea. He has some trouble pooping and sometime during the night he made a (very small) mess on one of my sandals. He's mostly going to be in his crate at night until we're sure of his potty habits and his relationship with the cat, but he was so scared and uncertain last night that I slept with him on the couch. I didn't even have to ask Miriam if she minded; she had assumed I would and said it was ok. I am predictable.

He was terrified of every little thing at first. He was scared of Miriam and I at the shelter, but that didn't last long, especially after we gave him some chicken. He trembled and cried in the car all the way back from the shelter, and was clearly nervous at home at first, but he seems to be settling in. He likes the couch, and when we're on it with him he either gets nestled in on top of one of the back cushions, or comes to us for attention. As well as giving us licks, he tries to pull our arms out from our bodies with his paws. If we oblige, he'll lie on his side to push his head and body against our arms, pushing against us as hard as he can (which isn't very hard) while we rub his tummy. It's really adorable.

I think he's scared of being alone. When I walk around the condo, he's glued to me. If I'm in the bedroom with the door closed, he starts to cry outside of it. I'm sure he's still pretty shaken by all the change in his world lately.

He's been passably good with the cat so far, as Seregil has been with him. When we first came home with him, Seregil was waiting at the door for us as usual. If I were to put his response into words, it would be something like "Yay! My humans are b-- what the hell is that!?!?" Rufus is a little nervous about the cat, and I've headed off a couple of interactions that turned into growls on his part. By the end of the evening, they were both wandering freely about and were looking at each other but avoiding proximity. I think that's a good place to be for now.

He's in the crate today while I'm at work. I hope his tummy issues clear up soon. I'd like to get a handle on his potty needs and be sure about he and the cat so I can leave him out during the day. I'm hopeful for positive change!

Kitty stuff!

Seregil almost convinced me to pet him long enough to miss my train. I was sitting to put my socks on and he jumped into my lap and started headbutting me. I think it's fair to say he's pretty content here. He is unhappy about not being let in the bedroom at night. For the last few days he's been meowing, pawing at the door, and scratching at the carpet. He's actually done a little damage, but we're going to replace the carpet someday anyway, and it's been better since we trimmed his claws.

Trimming claws was a little tricky, but he's such a forgiving boy that it went just fine. We'd clip a claw or two and he'd squirm loose and cross the room to get away, but he was always back in a just a minute or two for more snuggles (and trimmings).

My parents never trimmed their cats' claws, so this was new to me with our former housemate, whose cat's claws I helped clip. It makes sense though, and has been easier than dealing with dog nails. It seems to be a lot easier to see the quick on kitty nails and avoid hurting them.

I want to get nice pictures of Seregil, but getting my camera out and finding good light and catching him in a nice pose has always been a bit more than I want to get into in the evenings after work when I could snuggle my partner and play Parkour Pirate. This weekend there will probably be more pictures.

Music Stuff!

I've mentioned the mysterious, never-open record store on Belmont that I walk by after therapy on Wednesdays. The posted hours include Wednesday afternoons, but end with "Or whenever I feel like it." Every week, I look over as I pass the doorway, but the lights are always off.

Yesterday, I was looking forward to getting home to snuggles and kitty petting. I glanced into the windows of Groovin High as I walked by and actually did a double-take; it was open! I had to drop in.

There were just a few people looking through the records and CDs in the small, cozily-full-of-media storefront. I rummaged through the discount bins, and then moved to the regular used and new sections, looking for prog rock and other things that might catch my fancy. I found plenty of things I'd buy if had more disposable cash, but new vinyl is pricy. I came very close to ponying up for a new pressing of King Crimson's "In the Court of the Crimson King," but finally set it back among it's friends and moved on.

I saw the owner wasn't busy with other customers and asked him whether he had any Laurie Anderson. "Sure! CD or vinyl?" He knew who she was!!

In LP format, he had "Mister Heartbreak," which I already own on CD, and "Strange Angels" which I do not own and haven't heard. Sold! But it was $8 and the minimum purchase with a card was $10. I looked through the discount stuff again, but half-heartedly. I kept thinking about the King Crimson album. It's one of the most influential and well-known prog-rock albums; of great importance to forming conceptions of the genre as a whole. And I've never heard that one either.

The album is on heavyweight vinyl, and mixed from original masters that were located in 2003 rather than the 'corrected' (to fix some problems introduced by bad head-alignment on the original multi-track tape recorders) stereo mixdown that a lot of pressings prior to that were made from. It was priced around $25. It has now become the first LP I've ever bought new, and the most I've ever spent on a musical album in any format, given that most of my stuff comes from thrift stores and buying "Nevermind" at Half-Price Books a few months ago felt like a splurge.

I hope to set aside an hour block this weekend to put it on my turntable and sit close-eyed on the couch to listen to it all straight through, as prog-rock and concept albums in general were made to be heard.

I haven't opened that one up yet, but I looked at the Anderson LP once I got home. It's such a difference to look at clean, well-cared for vinyl instead of the usual thrift store fare!

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I've picked up a few other records lately, including a copy of the Vee-Jay records pressing of "Introducing the Beatles." I was pretty excited to see that at a thrift shop! I think it's one of the later pressings that isn't worth as much (it might even be counterfeit; I gather there are a lot of those around). It also has a chip on one edge that makes the first track on each side unplayable. But it has a number of songs on it that I'd never heard before; Danae and I both really enjoyed listening to them.

*As an aside, the King Crimson remix is an example of why vinyl is sometimes 'better' than CDs. I'm not convinced that that the objective sound fidelity is necessarily better. It's that the mix on the vinyl version is often higher quality. If you're interested in this, there's a great Wikipedia article on the so-called 'Loudness War' that makes for really interesting reading.

Piper was adopted yesterday by a couple who seem like they will love her and take good care of her. One said that his late husband was diabetic and he has experience administering shots. Danae and I went to visit her at her new place to bring all of her supplies and talk about her care and feeding routines.

Piper was happy to realize it was us coming into the unit, but she was ensconced on one of the men's laps and decided that that was where she wanted to stay. That makes me feel a lot better. I want so much for her to be happy and not miss us for long.

This has been pretty hard for Danae and I. I guess I don't know what to say other than that. I'm happy, but quite sad at the same time. Our home feels a lot more empty.

The week, I realized only in retrospect, has been a difficult one. I've been experiencing depression symptoms for a while. Little to no motivation to do anything. Tasks feeling overwhelming. No interest in going out for bike rides, which is really odd for me. And eating lots of chocolate and other food. Talking to the therapist yesterday helped cement an understanding of what's in my head.

I'd finally decided, yesterday morning before the session, that the depression was related to having euthanized King. For the first couple days, I didn't make that connection, as intuitive as the connection seems. I was telling myself that it didn't make sense. That it wasn't my cat, that we did the right thing, that it wasn't fair for me to be as upset as I was, and that I had things to do. (There's a clear theme through most of what I've talked about in therapy of me continually prioritizing what other people want and need over what I want and need. I deeply feel like everyone except me should get a lot of leeway and understanding of their thoughts and actions because I'm not in a position where I can really understand the background behind them. Not so with me; I'm the only person I can truly and fairly judge, and boy do I.) So I 'rationally' decided that it was probably just a random sort of depression. Yeah, I don't make good decisions about my emotions sometimes.

The therapist had a new-to-me technique to get at some of my thoughts through fewer layers of filters. She asked to talk specifically to the part of me that pushes me hard to ignore my feelings, referring to 'Chris' in the third person. She asked me to name that part of me, which I called Responsibility. Responsibility knows that I will not always live in this kind of protected situation that I'm in with Danae. Someday I will need to deal with the real world again, at which point I will not have the luxury of taking time off from tasks to process feelings. Other people have it much harder than I do and still manage to work two or three jobs, or otherwise meet their responsibilities. What gives me the right not to? Responsibility is clearly conscious of a fundamental and traumatic failure to cope with Syracuse and is very worried about something like that happening again.

"Could Responsibility try to be a little patient with Chris?" she asked. Give him time to process feelings like grief or depression or anxiety? Maybe. But only if it's a part of strengthening his ability to process those feelings more quickly in the future and without disruption, and only if his partner is ok with him failing, on occasion, to meet the obligations he has to her.

It was a really beneficial session that gave me things to think about, and to talk with Danae about. Not today though; she's getting a tooth extracted and I want her to spend today recovering and not stressing over deep thoughts while dealing with mouth pain. That's not fun. I was also able to better accept that I do in fact feel a lot of grief over King, and that it's ok to feel that way because he was a big part of my life and I miss him deeply. And that acceptance has, I think, helped me get a handle on my mental state in general. Except for the fact that I'm up several hours early after getting up to use the bathroom and not being able to sleep, I feel pretty good this morning. Life and tasks seem doable.

To make a longish story short, I spent about three hours with King at the vet today, getting him poked and prodded. I haven't said anything on Facebook because it's more Nathan's story to tell there, but we have a very sick kitty. He is in late stage diabetes, and is in ketoacidosis. He's anemic and low in potassium and generally in a very serious condition. Treatment would be hospitalization at an emergency clinic for management of blood sugar and electrolytes, administration of insulin, and other things needed to get him stable. The course of treatment would likely be several thousand dollars, and King may not make it through. Even if Nathan had money for it, which he doesn't, I don't know that it would be the right decision.

Nathan asked me what I'd do in his position. I said that I'd try to make King happy and comfortable. That's basically what we're going to do I think. It seemed like he was feeling briefly better this morning, but tonight I've been concerned again. He's not eating and is drinking almost nothing. A few minutes ago, he ventured out from under the bench and I decided to pick him up and take him to the couch. As soon as I picked him up though, he started vomiting, and I think there was blood in it.

I've been planning on going to a housewarming party tomorrow. I probably still will, but I'm hesitating a little. The last time an animal I shared the house with died, it was my (and my ex's) dog Kuma, and I was out of town that day. I still feel bad about that when I think about it for long. I've only known King for a year, and as much as I love him (he's one of the most wonderful cats I've lived with), he has his person to take care of him. That said, King's person may well need somebody to take care of him too.