That definitely describes me last night.
Two cats have died since my roommate Danille and I have lived in this duplex on campus. Apparently that scarred me even more than I thought. Not to mention all the animals I've dealt with losing, sometimes literally, in my lifetime.
Depression is pretty obvious, but the really Bad thing is my anxiety. Last night, I couldn't find my kitten, Feisty, and it got into my head that she was dead or had gotten outside somehow. Our house is a mess. Her little corpse could be somewhere.
She's done this before, hiding in my bed, sleeping peacefully, freaking me out. Ryan reminded me that This Is What Animals Do!!! a million times, but crazy doesn't listen to logic. I looked under BOOKS and PIZZA BOXES, for fuck's sake.
After four hours and eleventy searches in the same places, I turned around, and there she was, stumbly and sleepy-eyed, and I wept and cuddled her and she was like "Sup?"
Cats are assholes.
But I have Coke and Camels again and life sucks slightly less.
I also FINALLY finished reading the mss, The Monster Squad. Still no idea what it should actually be titled. I like it. I see lots of flaws. I have some ideas on how to fix them.
Life's generally alright. I really should be on medication. I also need a therapist.
I suffer from depression, anxiety, ADHD, OCD. All unconfirmed. SOMETHINGS are wrong with me. Yes, that is supposed to be plural. I'm also transgender. But I'm poor, y'all, and life sucks like that.
I'll be okay. Maybe.
My pets are just not allowed to die, ever again.