In Memoriam.

"Mew! Prrrp!"

- Papillon.

"Meoooooow!"

- Arnie.

So I was going to re-post Papillon's memorial post on the 9th October, the 3 month anniversary of his death, remember? Well, screw that. Arnie's heart failure was worse than we thought. And it was HEART FAILURE, we already thought it was awful! Basically, he stopped eating and went downhill really fast. He went to the vets for an appetite stimulant and the vet confirmed that he was just getting worse - he was even struggling to breathe. He's gone. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

Now the depressing explanation is over, on to the eulogies. That's right, this is still Pappy's post but I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing with his brother. They were close enough to use each other as pillows, I'm sure they'll be close enough to share a eulogy post.

Pappy, I still miss you so much. Seeing you go from a cool, collected kitty to a whimpering cat who spent more time in the litter tray than anywhere else was horrible. But I'm going to remember you as you used to be. You were calm (barring your mad half hours) and constantly had a look of mild disdain on your fuzzy face. You knew you were Top Cat, at least in my eyes. You had us wrapped around your paws with your adoring purrs, wide eyes and bristly tail.

You even high fived me, you were so smart. OK, you sometimes came across as a little dumb like when you tried to jump a gap a couple of inches and somehow missed it. I'm sure you meant to do that. And when you went to catch a spider that was on the curtain but when you swatted it, it fell onto the floor. You looked at it and decided you were too cool to give chase. We never did find out where that spider ran off to. But you weren't always like that. Less than a week before your death, you and Arnie teamed up to kill a moth that was terrorising me. People say that cats don't care about their owners but I know you loved us.

And boy, did you disprove that theory, Arnie! You ADORED Murdo. And the feeling was mutual. He loved you - he said hello to you before Mum when he got in from work. You were his beloved son. Such a daddy's boy. You loved him just as much as you loved your catnip mouse, Fluffy. That's a lot! Murdo wasn't even a cat person until we got you. You were just that endearing.

Despite how much you were pampered and coddled, you still battled your brother for dominance - remember when you killed a fly and ate it in front of us to assert your dominance? You tried, bless you. You were always a little goofy though, what with your habit of taking food out of your bowl, dropping it and eating it off the floor. And that time when Mum petted you and you freaked out and fell off the sofa. Silly cat! You were so soft and cuddly though. And so vocal! I noticed that changing since your stroke brought on by heart disease. You were so quiet. You barely meowed when I handed Fluffy to you. But I know you're out of pain now. And Pappy will meet you at the Rainbow Bridge. It'll be great to see your brother again, won't it? No fighting, you two!

Now the last of the 5 kittens we got when I was 14 has gone, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I'll just focus on Elsa and Rae. Hopefully, they'll be healthy and live for like, 18 years. You two deserved so much more time with us. Luck was never on our side. But your lives were full of love, treats and cuddles (however unappreciated they were), even if they were too short. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. All I can do is hope you're happy now. I will love you forever and I will never forget you.

Updates 'n' Stuff.

"Get my television fix

Sitting on my crucifix!"

- Billie Joe Armstrong.

I am so sorry! It's been ages since I've updated my blog, I know. I didn't forget, honestly. I just didn't have anything to post about aside from replacing the memorial post about Papillon which has mysteriously disappeared (I did NOT delete it!) which I will endeavour to post on the 9th October; a quarter of a year after Pappy's death.

 Anyway, I've been super busy. Yep. Even if most of my business is just looking after kittens, lip syncing to Green Day and getting new piercings because I'm a rebel (and I'm dangerous *guitar riff*). My friend moved in so I've been out of the house a lot, spending my money and inexplicably dressing as Billie Joe. So. Updates on my life. I'll list them because I like lists.

1. My brother went to uni but he's home for a visit.

2. Pappy's brother,  Arnie, has heart failure. This proves we have the worst luck with cats. 

3. I'm trying to get out a bit more but it's hit and miss.

4. I bought a new phone charger which actually works.

5. My fluoxetine dose has been upped to 10ml daily because it stopped working at the 5ml dose.

6. I am on ESA which isn't ideal but it's an income which I need to stay alive.

7. My step-dad is in hospital because he has a gammy eye. I haven't been told the full extent of the situation but he might need it removed and he's fed up of being in hospital with nothing to do. 

8. My cats are lying across the pillow and I really need to sleep. I'm tired. But they're sleeping. Waking a sleeping kitten is bad juju. Never mind *yawn*. 

So that's what's been happening at Chez Blue. Also, Elsa got ahold of a piece of pepperoni earlier and I chased her around the house for 8 minutes before I managed to grab her and hold her as my brother attempted to wrestle the pepperoni from her vice-like jaws and Elsa growled in disapproval. Excitement abounds! Anyway, I'll try not to disappear again...but I promise nothing! 

International Cat Day.

"If you want to write, keep cats."

- Aldous Huxley

Today is International Cat Day! As you know, I love kitties. You also know that, last month, I lost my fluffball, Papillon, to a bladder disease. What you may not know, however, is that I have recently acquired two tortoiseshell kittens (Mum called up the Cats Protection to ask about pregnant cats but they had kittens that needed a home at that very moment so we got them on the 15th, the day after my birthday). They are called Elsa and Rae after my favourite characters in 'Frozen' and 'My Mad Fat Diary' respectively. Elsa has love hearts on her side and likes climbing the curtains. Rae has an orange nose and a squeaky meow. She likes chewing things. They are very naughty but they love me because I'm their mummy. They have yet to notice that I am not a cat.

I love them too. They have given me something to live for and motivation to get out of bed in the morning (if only to clean up the mess they've caused by climbing on my bookshelves and bedside table in the night). For that, I can forgive them for the scratches they've given me, the times they've fallen asleep on my arm so I couldn't move, the fact they've chewed my books, torn up my bookmark and pulled the whiskers off my favourite stuffed toy. Ahem. Without further ado, let me introduce you to these adorable bundles of joy and very sharp claws!

  

As you can see, Elsa is copying the pose of our 5 year old cat, Arnie. I like to think the kittens learn from him. He's not too pleased about them because they chase his tail and steal his favourite spot on the scratching post. If they really bother him, he bops them on the nose to keep them in line but otherwise, he leaves them to their mischief. I'm so proud of him. It may be International Cat Day today but I ALWAYS adore my kitties!

  

All The Little Things That Make Me Smile

"The Anchors are things that occupy my mind and make me feel good temporarily."

- Ned Vizzini

Because my last post was so depressing, I'm going to write a more upbeat post this time. The title is rather self-explanatory. Things that make me smile or at least things that I appreciate and enjoy even if I don't smile. Just small, ordinary things. A friend actually inspired me to write about this. I haven't asked if I can use her name so I won't but she knows who she is! Anyway. Let's get this show on the road!

- Cats. Any cats, really. But my cats are great.
- Delicious food. Soups, pizzas, pastries, all sorts of yummy stuff.
- Good TV. At the moment, I'm enjoying Humans and My Mad Fat Diary alongside my usual diet of The Simpsons/Hollyoaks/The Goldbergs.
- Spending time with my family when no one's angry.
- Starbucks hot chocolate.
- Reading new books.

- Sniffing new books (I love that new book smell, OK?!).
- Looking at the clouds.
- Playing games like The Sims. With cheats, duh.
- Jigsaw puzzles.
- My favourite music. Currently, I'm enjoying 'She's Lost Control' by Joy Division.
- Getting answers right when watching quiz shows.
- Spotting a spelling error. After the initial anger that I'm unemployed while these shoddy proofreaders have jobs they perform poorly at, I feel smug and self-satisfied.

- "Dad" jokes. Y'know, those really cheesy puns that make you groan because they're so bad but so good at the same time? Yeah, those.
- Money. Yeah, I'm greedy.
- My bed because it's warm and cosy.
- Completing a Sudoku that was meant to take 30 minutes in 8 minutes.
- Winning games like chess or Trivial Pursuit.
- Talking to friends online.
- Cuddling with Pusheen.
- Frozen.

- My new hairstyle. Pretty bitchin', eh?!
- When English people think that the haggis is a wild animal.
- Guessing who the perpetrator is in Law And Order: Special Victims Unit and hearing the coveted words "You were right" from my brother.
- Wearing awesome clothes and knowing my outfit is awesome.
- That clean feeling after a shower.
- Getting compliments.
- Sleeping. I can't say if I enjoy being asleep because I'm asleep at the time but I certainly do a lot of sleeping.

- The fact that the cool raptor in Jurassic World is named Blue, like me.
- When someone genuinely cares about me and wants to help. I was ignored for so long in favour of other people and so when someone cares, I am pathetically grateful.
- Friends who don't piss off when they don't need anything from me.
- Big cats. I can't pet them but they're pretty to look at.
- Creepy stories. Love 'em.

- Plasticine, Play-Doh, modelling clay, anything of that ilk.
- Piercings and tattoos.

That's all I can think of at the moment but hey, it's quite a lot! I have many things that can at least erase some of the persistent sadness that seems to be following me lately. It's learning to appreciate the little things rather than waiting for one big thing to make it all better. I don't think little things cure depression, by any means, but it gives you focus and makes you feel good for a little while.

Unfortunately, in life, there are no quick fixes so rather than trying to fix our lives or ourselves when doing so might not be possible or worth the cost, it's sometimes better to accept when something can't be changed and trying to be thankful for whatever small mercies life casts in your direction. Easier said than done but hey, it's better than being eaten up by bitterness and self-loathing. So give it a try.

Impertinent Ramblings

"I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep"

-Ned Vizzini

There's no real meaning to this blog post. I know I haven't posted in a while so of course, I should be posting stuff. And that's maybe part of it. And I'm sorry I've left you waiting. I've got a couple of posts planned but I need to write them up first. I'll start working on them when I feel better, I promise.

OK, before I start rambling, a little disclaimer: I will be fine. Don't worry about me, don't lose any sleep (that's important) and dear god, don't call my mother! I'm safe and I have no intention of not being safe. I just simply need to get some feelings off my chest and hopefully, it will offer some insight into what life is like for someone like me.

I have not been feeling good recently. That's not entirely true, I've had a few moments where I felt OK over the past few days - just distracted from life, I suppose - but my general mood has been weird. I look miserable and I suppose I do feel miserable but mostly, I just feel numb. Too numb to cry. I feel like I need to cry but I can't for some reason. It sucks. I would fill the emptiness with food but I don't feel like eating. I can't remember the last time I ate a meal, I've just been snacking when my stomach starts rumbling too loudly. I've eaten less than half of some leftover pumpkin pie in the last 24 hours. Normally, I don't stop eating. The last time I got worse, I went off food for a bit. That's probably what's happening now. I'm on fluoxetine, I was warned I might get worse before I get better. Just have to grin and bear it I suppose. Except I can't grin. I was able to on Friday but yesterday, I was just dull and flat. I didn't leave my room a whole lot and I just lay in bed like a spectacularly ugly statue. Modern art, perhaps. When I did leave my room (for pie and Pepsi and to feed the cats), I barely lifted my feet off the ground. Like a zombie. 

I feel like a zombie. Except zombies have a goal (to eat BRAAAAIIINS) and motivation. I'm just kind of aimless. I didn't wash or get changed but that's nothing new. I can't be bothered with that. What's the point in washing when I'll just get dirty again? Why should I get changed when I'm not going anywhere? I'd rather sleep. My thoughts are slow and incoherent, like a tired drunk at a typewriter and each time they hit a key, a bolt of pain hits my forehead. Is thinking meant to hurt? I don't know but it's too much for me to deal with so I sleep. I don't have to deal with anything when I'm asleep. I wish I could stay asleep forever. So I'm low. Very low. I've been worse but that offers little comfort when I'm like this.

I have a feeling this will pass though. My feet are tapping uncontrollably which means I'm going into one of those periods where I seem almost normal, happy I suppose. I'm not happy but I'm not as low so I'll take it. The only problem is controlling myself. I'm pretty good with self control but I spend money like I'm dying tomorrow. I haven't spent money in a while simply because that would require getting out of bed and going out. Nah. But when I get enough energy, I know I'll be down at Tesco, throwing half the shop into my trolley. My appetite will return with a vengeance and I'll have to stock up on meals and snacks and a plaid shirt that I've decided I need.

This money is to last me till god knows when but I can't stop myself. I feel better when I'm buying things. Human. It's what normal people do, shop. Because they need to feed themselves and clothe themselves and surround themselves with nice things and I'm kind of shit at all of that. But when I buy stuff, it seems like I'm one step closer to getting better. Of course, I'm not - eating my way through four shopping bags of goodies and trying to ignore my thoughts which trip over each other and occasionally tumble out of my mouth (the tired drunk at the typewriter has been replaced by a psychotic person on ecstasy at a state-of-the-art computer) is no better than lying in bed, immobile. But, aside from my mad twitches - seriously, my arms flap about so much, I'm surprised I haven't taken wing yet - I seem more socially acceptable like that. I can hold a conversation and cook for myself and laugh and smile. My psychiatrist says it's normal and the reason it feels so insane is because I'm so low the rest of the time. I guess that makes sense but I always feel slightly unstable like that.

It's not that I prefer being low. I don't like any of it. I want to sleep and I want to stay asleep because then no one will have to be bothered about me and I won't have to deal with everything that being awake brings. But I'm expected to live. Crawling into bed and staying there is not an option. I'll be dragged through life, kicking and screaming, whether I like it or not. I don't feel I can cope. I've got this far, sure, but how much further can I go? Who knows? I've just got to try, I suppose. Easier said than done seeing as I'm completely incapable of living. But hey. I'll give it my best shot. I'm doing an OK job of surviving so I might be able to integrate some living into that as well. I'm trying.

So that's what my life consists of. Not much. Like a very boring rollercoaster. But I needed to get this out lest I end up like an industrial amount of frankium in a swimming pool of water. Not good. It's late. I'll probably regret posting this when I wake up but why should I feel bad about a) being honest and b) using my blog to talk about MYSELF *gasps of horror*? I'll do what I damn well please. And right now, that's sleeping. Zzz...