Tag Archives: cats

Another New Moon


Raven reflected in Kitty's screen

Last night was the new moon, and I have begun adding again.  This time: writing 6-10 articles per week.  This would mean at least one article a day, six days a week, or up to 2 articles a day for five days each week.  At $15 an article, it isn’t much money in the grand scheme of things, but it’s more money than I’ve been operating with, and considering all the things I need to save up for (Norwescon, Craig/Ana birthdays, potential acupuncture/surgery, and the rotating 5-week check for hydrotherapy, et al.), I need to get serious about my only source of income.

Cotton's First Day Home

I’ve been going to my hydrotherapy classes, but with the new kitten–say hi to Cotton!–we’ve taken a break from yoga classes (to be resumed soon).

My weight hasn’t gone down, and lately I’ve been feeling just as run down as I did before starting the supplements.  It might have a rather mundane cause though, considering how much time I’ve been throwing myself into an MMORPG like the addict I am and not getting to bed when I know I should.  Water intake is good and sustained, but I still haven’t gotten on top of the daily stretching/exercise.  Daily photos just don’t seem all that important to me anymore, but I have been taking them on occasion to still mark progress (about once a week).

Spring, Dammit!

I might feel more inclined to do a daily photo when I have the family room cleaned up and my main computer easily accessible for photo editing–then I can dock my Nikon which allows me to take more creative pictures.

We did started gardening recently, just in small part, utilizing permaculture techniques (guilds) to support existing flora in our front yard using seeds I’d bought in previous ambitious years.  If you want to know more, check out Gaia’s Garden for more information.  I checked it out from the library and fell in love enough to add it to my wishlist.

Mama & Cotton watch "Big" with the Daughter

Weirdness has ensued, though, as I try to progress.  The last two hydrotherapy sessions left me so drained that both times, I ended up nodding off after lunch.  The first time, I was home and slept for three and a half hours when I’d only intended to sleep one.  The second time, I was sitting on the bleachers while the kids attended their swim class, and my best friend drove me to her house and ordered me to her bed until I was fit to drive.  After a half hour rest period and water, she considered me clear for take off, but I was still sleepy the rest of the evening.  No, not sleepy, exhausted.

Cotton's Favorite Napping Spot

I’m considering an acupuncture procedure on a particular cyst that’s been open since before I met my partner, but it’s going to take saving up money and gulping down my fear about so many injections (not just needles, but syringes!) at once.  The alternative to this–an allopathic extreme–is to completely excise the tissue around the area and remove the sinus created by the cyst.  I was informed by my doctor that if I went through with the surgery, it could take several weeks, possibly months to heal, and I wouldn’t be able to sit for quite some time.  The surgery would remove enough tissue to disfigure me.  Neither prospect makes me want to go forward with this last choice option, but if the acupuncture doesn’t work, what am I left with?  Even the manuka honey hasn’t healed it completely.

Bah.  I’m trying to be motivated, but I so often feel weighed down by the huge list of things to do, consider, and save for, I keep falling into a procrastination pattern and avoiding anything but the very basic necessities.  :\


The Hibernation


In a Bad Light

I feel guilty for not posting more often.  I feel guilty for not feeling guilty enough.  To have my co-author say I was “taking it hard” (it being Taigil’s disappearance) is an understatement.  I’ve been rather despondent.  I’ve done only the bare minimum necessary to keep going forward, and I’ve retreated from the world.  I finally just did what was most necessary: I acknowledged the need to hibernate and told those around me that I’d be doing just that.  It didn’t mean I stopped making meals, homeschooling, bathing; I just dropped away from the responsibility of having to address every email that came across my box and didn’t feel pressured to write except for those things that were most timely.

Demanding Spring

Today, we did a little celebrate Charlotte’s 1st birthday with a small bit of crab formed into a cake and a bit of salt-free sardine, but I ended up crying on the kitchen floor while I took her picture because she ought to be sharing it with her brother.  Tomorrow, we pick up the kitten we adopted to be her new companion.  His name is Cotton, he’s a lot younger than I intended to adopt, and the wrong gender according to my partner.  But of all that cats I went to see (three visits), he was the best match personality- and energy-wise for our family.  We were giddy when we walked out of the shelter after paying the adoption fee (he stayed to finish a course of medication; his last adopting family returned him to the shelter sick), but on the drive home, I bawled, unable to reconcile my happiness at having him with the loss of our other kitten.  People we talk to say to keep hoping, but hope hurts.  I most wish for him to return to us a survivor of his experiences, but if he’s passed on, I’d rather know than this perpetual absence.

Raven & Charlotte March 2011

And when people tell me to keep hoping, I feel guilty for wanting to just mourn him and move on.  If I knew, I could give my grief a reasonable period of time to work itself out.  Instead, I alternate between trying new things to entice his potential return to us, and wallowing in depression at having slipped up that night.  He got out, and it’s my fault, and there was no way to know that this time he wouldn’t make it back as he had before.  That damnable little voice that I never listen to when I should, that voice that said to be cautious that night–I ignored it and now he’s gone.

And people want me to have hope.  People want me to not blame myself.  But I am responsible for what happened that night, and I won’t hide from that.  I hope for his return, yearn and pray and beg for it, but it keeps me raw and open and miserable as long as I do.  But I’d hate myself if I gave up now only to find out that my lack of effort led to discovering some greater tragedy.

Just Now

This state of living has affected my home life and my writing.  Despite all the good things I’m doing for my body–I’ve been keeping up with my supplements and water, I’ve pushed myself to return to hydrotherapy classes–I’m wasting my energy on depression.  I watch myself sit like a lump when inside I’m screaming to get up and move and accomplish and produce and live, yet nothing much gets done.  The energy is there, it’s just being poorly spent, and the woman who offered to be my life coach flaked out in the worst way, which only made things worse.

But I had my hibernation, and now, I have to pull myself back out of the mire and start making this week better.  Tomorrow, my daughter is scheduled to co-pilot a plane for Women in Aviation Week, the day we bring Cotton home, and it’s also my baby sister’s seventh birthday.  Monday is Pi Day, and I have planned a whole day of pie (turkey samosas for breakfast, veggie-paneer pasties and fruit empanadas for lunch, chicken pot pie for dinner, and chocolate bourbon pecan pie for dessert).  Tuesday, I go to the doctor to have my ear checked, Thursday is “Leprechaun Day” which involves corned turkey and cabbage, Saturday is the birthday of one of my boyfriends and a good friend of mine from when I was young and pretty.  Sunday is Ostara, which means duck eggs for breakfast and lamb for dinner.

Oh, and my co-author and I are only one scene and a few interludes away from completing Book 3.

. . . If only I could get up and get it all done.  :/

(Things I’ve been bad about in my Improving Raven Project: daily photos, stretching, exercise, and updating this blog with the new moon resolution.  Things I’ve been really good about: supplements, water, meditation, and hydrotherapy.  I think we’ll be heading back to yoga classes a week from Thursday, too.  Since I missed the new moon, and have shuffled my resolutions around as I’ve gone, I’m just going to re-affirm the others I’ve already started before April’s new moon.)

Before the New Moon to Now


I’ll need to keep this brief since I am borrowing a computer (still).  I’d left my laptop at Mystyrica’s house early last week, and events conspired to keep me from picking it up.  That being said, what limited images I have taken of myself are on the laptop, so there won’t be anything to see here until I retrieve it. 

It was the new moon on Thursday when Daughter & I went to our first gentle yoga class.  She did fairly well with listening, and I’m glad it was only an hour, or she’d have become bored.  For me, it was extremely difficult to get through.  The first pose was child pose, and it’s one of the hardest ones for me.  My knees hate it, I can’t bend far enough forward because my belly gets in the way, and even if I spread my knees wide, once my forehead’s to the mat, I start to suffocate myself (thanks breasts).

Nevertheless, we got through the first class, and we’ll be going back this Thursday.  Starting tomorrow, I’ll be swimming twice a week as well in a therapeutic class nearby.  This is part of the new moon’s additions to my routine.  Starting last Thursday, I will be donig something active each day: walking, swimming, beginning calisthenics, or yoga depending on weather and the class(es) I have that day. 

While I’ve not been keeping up with my stretching, I’ve been even worse about taking the daily photo.  Part of that is due to depression.  My kitten still hasn’t returned home, and though we’ve been working to entertain his sister, I find it all the more disheartening when I have to go release an opposum from the humane cat trap his adoption agency loaned us to find him.  I don’t feel as though he’s dead, but I don’t know if we’ll ever see him again, either. 

Good things: I’ve kept up with my vitamins and water (I missed only one day’s quota of the latter), and I’m increasingly getting better about stretching.  I’m listening to my body more, and though my activity hasn’t greatly increased yet, it will be soon.  Daughter suggested I measure myself today after we were looking at a clothing store that didn’t carry my size.  Since last August, I lost 1″ under my bust (nothing in the bust, proper), 1/2″ in my waist, and 1 1/2″ in my hip measurement.  I was surprised since my weight has hovered around 260 despite changes, and recently went up as my body headed toward menstruation (totally normal).  Maybe I’m losing fat but gaining muscle?  I definitely have more energy than before (thanks, CoQ10!), and though that doesn’t change other issues, it gives me more “spoons” to deal with everything else.

Stuff I’ve learned so far from my body:

  • Minimum 64oz. water + good sleep = less acne (at least it’s proved true in me)
  • More energy = better coping skills, less need for naps (doesn’t change procrastination, depression, or pain, just how I deal with it)
  • Eating a big lunch and a smaller dinner makes me feel better the next day
  • Yep, still shouldn’t eat chicken eggs
  • My knees are underdeveloped, and I may just have to live with that

My goal is to also start making notes of certain cyclical things to guage what’s really going on.  Are my cysts forming at certain points in my moon cycle? Are they reacting to certain foods or habits in my diet?  Will activity reduce the hemmorhaging I experience each month instead of a normal menstrual cycle?  By keeping a notebook (and making a monthly line graph to make sense of the data), I might be better able to see what’s going on and what my body’s subtle triggers are.  I also might learn more about myself than I realized before.

I’m really proud of myself for saving up the money for the first five week class of swimming, and I’m grateful to my partner who agreed to pay for the yoga classes for us.  I’m also proud of myself for giving me breaks when I need them, and honoring my need to be responsible to myself in all ways.  We’ve got a lot scheduled for the coming month, most of it related to my health or Daughter’s homeschooling, but I think I can get through it all fairly well.  I’m both nervous and excited.  I’m also rather disappointed, but I believe major dietary changes will be necessary in the near future; I’m saving up money to get allergy testing to prove it to myself, but most cow-dairy and all wheat might be removed from our diets.  If so, I plan to give myself a going-away-from-[x-food]-party, and I already said to my partner that if I have to give up cow’s cheese, we have to go to the Melting Pot just once before then (I’ve never been).  It’s an experience I want to have before I make any further shifts to my eating habits.

Energy Boost + Depression?


With Headphones

It’s been . . . a while since I posted.  Losing Taigil, and not knowing where he is, has taken up a lot of my extra energy, and thanks to the addition of 600mg of CoQ10 to my daily supplements, I’ve had a lot more to burn.  What I have discovered, is that extra energy doesn’t mean I feel better, am less depressed, or that somehow my pain isn’t as severe.  In fact, because I’m more awake and not mentally numbed by exhaustion, I notice the pain all the more.

Waiting for Taigil

Waiting for Taigil

On the third day of taking CoQ10, I not only had more energy, I had more awareness of the my usual pain.  I popped two each of acetaminophen and naproxyn sodium to help me get through the day.  It worked, by the way, and I’ve only needed to take one nap since starting them, and that was entirely from a draining day after several days of staying up worrying about Taigil.

While I’ve kept up with my water (except one day), supplements, and even the meditation portion of my goals, I’ve been remiss in taking all my daily photos (at last three missed), and stretching has been my worst since the 4th, despite the extensive physical activity prompted by daily searches for my lost kitten.  I’ve been all over the yard, including down the hill to the pond, across the fallen branches in our neighbor’s yard, up the street to talk to all the neighbors for the first time, down the road posting signs, and everywhere between.  I’ve even been in the crawl space, which my partner has never been in despite owning the house for more than a decade.

That being said, while I’m disappointed in myself for not getting the stretching done (and I can feel the lack between the days that I do remember to do it), I am not as concerned about the daily photo as I thought I would be.  Maybe it’s because since the 12th, I’ve begun looking more and more sad in each photo, and with direct response to . . . well, the very same reason his sister Charlotte looks constantly sad, despondent, and hopeful.

She goes out to check on him several times a day, but stays within 5 feet of the house’s perimeter.  If he’s still alive, he’s likely up a tree avoiding something he finds threatening, or hunkered down beneath any of the hundreds of places in our neighborhood one so slender and small can hide.

Tomorrow I’m going to venture out and be a good homeschooling parent, but I know that my mind will be divided.  I’m trying to keep up with my regimen as well, but it’s so hard when my mind keeps going over a thousand scenarios a minute; what’s the use of having extra energy if it just gets burned up with pain and worry?