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Wednesday, September 22nd, 2010 06:46 am
I scrubbed Edward with the pet wipes yesterday, scrubbed and scrubbed. He gets into something with orange dirt, and grit gets all over his back where he can't groom it away. What does the honey bear go do when he roams? He's taken to sitting on "my" couch now, sprawled on the grey and yellow cat mat i repurposed from a wool sweater, in which he tore huge holes to get at fresh catnip i'd placed inside one day. He often rests his head on a cat toy that looks like a long cat-scale pillow, and buries his face in the couch pillows. He seems to work so hard at sleeping: what does he go off and do first thing in the morning?

I do miss how Greybeard and Greybrother were lap cats. Mr M and Greycie Loo both come ask for affection, and Greycie Loo does come pile on Christine (and if there's no alternative, me). It's been just over a year with Edward though, so having him feel confident enough to join us in the living room is nice. I do wonder about the cat politics: are Loo and Mr M hanging back from the room when Edward's present?

We don't yet have as clear an alpha cat as Greybeard was. Mr M has seniority, Greycie Loo has a clear demanding streak, and Edward is massive. I think Greycie Loo wants alpha, but she's slight compared to the other two.

--==∞==--

I'm hoping my mouth is healing with the steroid treatments. I continue to pump myself full of analgesics and taking the mouth wash with the anesthetic. I have little gusto for eating: the month plus has affected me in odd ways. I used to keep my energy (and mood) up with nibbles -- nuts and dried fruit were quick energy pick me ups that i carefully managed in the day. I think now i put off eating until i can't not eat. I'm not sure when to switch back to normal eating. A few weeks ago, when my cheeks cleared, i ate more solid things, and then scraped my cheek enough to trigger another ulceration.

I have to hold to myself that the last stretch of healing is important, that i need to keep from another inflammation cycle.

I'm not sure the best way to rest: i withdrew from attending library committee last night (no longer clerk, so hurrah), the wedding is over (do we need a MInute for Business Meeting?), i'm not going to a MeetUp on web security tonight. I rewatched two season four Doctor Who episodes last night. I guess i need to go into that cycle of finding a research or creative project to consume my attention?

--==∞==--

I have a meeting with my therapist on Friday.

--==∞==--

Yesterday evening i despaired about "deserving" a better job. I got the brochure on the $30k Masters program in Transformative Leadership. I'm not sure i'm ready to dream that dream.

I have a bucket of fear about leaving a secure job, and i have no further to look than my father to see his last ... six years? decade? ... of work for his last employer and how it shredded him. He's healing quickly with retirement -- and therapy. So the lesson is -- at the moment that i have the training to stay hitched to a dysfunctional plow and keep working until long after reaching retirement age because i hold out a hope that some how there a way to turn the misery around to something i can be proud of. I think that's what he tried to do.

There's a macho, survivalist narrative in my head, one where i label myself weak and fragile because i can't blow off the work dysfunction, i can't regulate, i can't keep balance the way others can. I know why i can't: genetics to the physical reactions, early trauma for the learned patterns. I know i can change: the depression isn't quite the same this time, i'm crying frequently and often, i'm more present, and i can change to be better.

I'm having a hard time believing, though, that i can suitably support Christine and I if i take risks -- going back to the fragility....

Anyhow, off to continue my codependent role in the current dysfunctional management scheme.