you spin me right round baby right round

Can't believe it's been over a year since I felt the need to write in here,  well that's not true I have felt the need but just either deleted what ever it was I wrote or just spent to much time going over things in my head.

Things are still mostly the same, not better but not worse, just lost in a word of banal normality or what passes for my normality anyways.    Still trying to get to the end of this uni degree, this is my last semester. It has to be.  Other wise I give up.

I've started letting my creative side out again.  Nothing fancy, no paintings of the mona lisa and the like. But just spending way to much money on pretty papers, pens and other crafty things.

I'm back to doing photos again.  I get out of the house once a week to go take animal photos again.  Trying so very hard not to fall back into old obsessive / control freak patterns - it's been hard.  I get to passionate and involved in things.   Which for the most part I've managed to keep under control, I am yet to fall into the full blown obsessive workaholic like I did during my AWL Qld days.  No doing extra days/shifts - just sticking to the one day a week thing.

I've made new 'friends' and for the most part I've had a good time.  It hasn't been perfect but what ever is and this is me we are talking about.   I'm still trying to figure out the people around me and find my place within this world.  Still failing miserably, but learning to be okay with that.

Actually that's what brought on todays desire to off load.   The last few months or so have been more worse then good.  I actually did have my first breakdown if you will.  I made a bit of a fool of myself - over reacted and just lost the plot.  I got really negative and bitter - ohh and lets face it a wee-bit dramatic and over sensitive...   but really I shouldn't be surprised after all...

It is not a good idea to go off your meds.  Just saying.

I got sick and tired of all the back and forth with the Dr's and trying to get some form of answer to what the hell is up with this stupid brain of mine.  Is it really just that life sucks and I have every reason to just be depressed (ie justified to be 'my life is shit' ish)  or is it that I am type 2 - type 1 Bipolar (that ball got kicked around for a while). The latest one that has been put forward is Dysthymia, better known as chronic depression.

No one seems to be able to make up their minds.   So I figured the best way to get to the bottom of it was to just ditch the meds and see how that goes.  Which I should have spoken to my Dr about before I did it, but as I might like my dr as a 'person' as a Dr I think for me, he's just not the right fix.  I think I'm a bit to complex for him and all he can see is a fat girl that needs to go on a diet.  He can't seem to see past my weight when it comes to my health, both mentally and physically.

I can't remember when I officially stopped taking my meds.  I think this might have been the wrong time of year to do it too, as this has always been my 'bad' period.  But then maybe it was the perfect time really.

What I've discovered so far is that I feel things more now then what I did on the meds.  Maybe that's why I didn't write in here as much for the last year.

I've noticed lately that I tend to be more opinionated, in the fact that I actually have opinions about things and then have a burning need to voice them.  The delete button and I have become good friends.  Anything I think or feel normally ends up just between me and these four walls (and the cats) because once that surge has worn off I ask myself 'is this really important to anyone but me?'

I've noticed being cranky when I have no reason to be.  I was this weekend on my brothers birthday, my Dad even passed comment about it (the fact that I was in a 'bad mood') I just wasn't feeling it that day or the next. I think I might still be.

I noticed one day I was very short tempered (more then normal) with my mum.  I had very little patience that day.  The next day was a complete turn around.

At certain points Arthur bathing himself will drive me nuts I'll not be able to stand the sound. I'll try and ignore it as long as possible but 9/10 I'll yell (not very loudly) at him to stop it.  Poor boy always gives me a look of but I was just making myself clean...

The major thing though has been the incessant talking.  Omg talk about motor mouth, could talk under water type thing.   I've grown to understand what they mean by "Manic".  I have at times tried to stop talking, tried to just be 'calm' but 5 seconds later I'd be at it again.

New things I've noticed is the lack of a filter at times.  On meds I would never have dreamed of asking someone I knew really well, let alone a basic stranger "are you pregnant? or is that just a food baby?"  never ever would I normally rationally ask that question.  But I did, and as soon as I did it was like omg why!?!  Really Peta?!

I'm not convinced I fit into the Bipolar spectrum, but I think I'm closer to it then anything else.

Today was a depressed day. I spend the morning in bed not wanting to get up, on the verge of tears that I could not explain at all - there was no reason for me to feel so deflated nor anything to need to cry over.  It took a lot to pick myself up. Buy the late afternoon I was at full speed, writing a million miles an hour and thinking of a million and one things.

I think I'm still on a bit of a high,  I even started to clean the house a little while ago as I had the sudden urge to clean.  Unfortunately (fortunately?) with sharing the house with someone else I couldn't go into full clean mode so instead just settled for a little sweet of the kitchen.   I've made plans to do more tomorrow....  I doubt I'll follow through though as by then the mood will have run out.

I have actually started to think that there might be something else causing all the various things going on with my health.  This is where I have an issue with my current Dr as he doesn't agree with me that there is anything to it, and I can understand that.  What I don't like is the fact that he won't do any tests or even take a moment to just consider the facts as a whole.  I'd be quite happy to be wrong, I just wish he'd at least prove that he is right.

Funny I came to write in here about my realisation about why I don't seem to fit in to well socially with others,  why I don't fit in pretty much most of the time. But now I have gone off on a tangent and the post just doesn't seem to warrant that whole conversation now.   To put it simply I have realised that I never learnt the art of sucking up to people.  In a job context I've always just done my job, I've put in extra effort without being asked and have always thought that was what it was all about, you do your job, you do more when you can and make sure you know as much as possible so you can work most effectively.  I've found even when I do things that are significant it's still not enough to 'matter'.  No one cares.  It's not that I want to be praised or rewarded.  It would just feel good to know what you did was noticed every now and then, that you where included in things that you have worked on, that you are apart of.

It's never happened and it's always been that way.  I'm not the shinning star I'm just the one that gets the job done.  I don't have the confidence it takes to just blindly insert myself into a situation.  I like to think that I'm at lease a likeable person, I think it is safe to say that people do like me, but I just don't stand out - even with blue hair - when it comes to the important things my face and name just fade off into the background  - I'm just that 'nice girl' someone once knew.

I had a dream my life would be. So much different from this hell I'm living

So it's been awhile,  things have been steady.   Not great.  Just steady.  The move thing has been a blessing in disguise, although I'm constantly afraid of overstaying my welcome or doing the wrong thing.  Which I more then likely have done countless times already but I'm trying to be on my best behaviour  - honestly though in some days in the quite I just don't want to get out of bed or leave my room.  It sometimes takes all day to get going and then I get frantic because I should have swept the floor, cleaned the lounge room, done something more. 

One positive is that the cats seem to be adjusting to their new routine, they are still often doing things they shouldn't but they haven't broken anything or caused a major issue (that I know of).  They don't like having to be kept in the bedroom overnight, and I don't like having their litter box in my bedroom either, but there are just some sacrifices we have to make.   All in all I have been very lucky to land on my feet,  it took the last chunk of savings I had to move and although i'm a little nervous of becoming broke, I know in a few months or so the bank balance will look a little more cheerful. 

Uni this last semester turned into a complete mess, just when I was thinking that I would get a handle back on everything, it all imploded again.   It's taken some doing and changing part of my degree, but baring any more implosions I should be able to be a fully fledged university graduate at the end of the year!!  A full year more then what I hoped it would be but never the less I will finish this damn degree come hell or high water.  

What then I don't know.  Work of course, got to pay that huge monster of a HECS debt off some how and lets not even think about saving for what ever kind of future I might have left in front of me.  At this stage I'm just looking to get through these next few months and finish this long drawn out stage of my life.  

If you haven't guessed it already I'm having one of those nights again, can't sleep.  I think this is the third night in a row maybe... but can't remember - my memory is not so good these days it all blends into one another.  Doesn't help that I have run out of happy pills, I need to go get a new script from the doctor but as I hate my new doctor I've been avoiding it as long as possible - off to get it sorted tomorrow.   

Still trying to get this head of mine all sorted and 'fixed' up.  It's hard when you don't trust/like most Doctors - and when you do find one you like she goes and gets herself knocked up!!  (How rude LOL)  The last two or so years hasn't really changed much, I think I was in the wrong type of therapy, possible am even on the wrong type of meds.   I just know this merry go round never stops going around and around.  Going around in circles isn't much fun or healthy in the long run.  I have made a little progress, I have been lucky enough to get a new psychologists who seems to know what they are talking about and actually 'gets' me.   Cognitive Behavioural Therapy doesn't seem to work for me, I'm smart enough to know all that already, there is more going wrong in there.  There has been a big part of me that has always wanted more of a keen definition to what is going on, so I can understand it better and also so I can hopefully finally get a handle on it all the right way for once.   I didn't want any type of label but I just wanted to know what was/is wrong with me.   

Next week I get to see a new specialist and start this whole dance all over again.   Hopefully we can start to get some type of answer to change my future. 

not an ideal situation

So once again I find myself here writing out the stuff that is turning over in my head.  This has become my dumping ground when I feel like the ground is about to open up and swallow me whole.  I'm thankful no one reads this anymore.   Once this poor little space was filled with reasonable happy jovial post that people came to read and even now and the post comments.  But then life got in the way and everything changed as it tends to have that habit.

Recently we had a new neighbour move into the apparment block, seemed like a bit of a Dick from the first day, as he was yelling / abusing someone on the photo repeatedly out the front of his place.   But after that first day he seemed to 'calm' down.  He is very friendly and although I thought he was a bit of a 'dick' I gave him the benefit of the doubt when he started trying to engage with me in typical neighbourly conversation.  Although he was a little 'out side my comfort zone' to start with he just seemed 'just a little messed up'  - and hey who am I to judge?    So being the nice, friendly, tolerant person I am (aka - weak) I let some weird kind of friendship develop, I was never completely comfortable but we had a few laughs, ate a meal or two together and just generally hung out and talked.   But again just now and then things would come up that just didn't sit right with me.

Nothing bad has happened as such - he still believes we are 'friends' but there are these little warning lights that just keep turning on.  I have found myself just playing nice to keep him happy and avoid any confrontation, I've tried to distance myself from his 'friendship'.  I don't want to make him have any reason to be angry or hateful towards me.  As honestly I can tell this guy is on the edge and could blow like a bomb.  Quite frankly I don't want to be here when that happens.

It's gotten to the stage where I'm trying to hide that I"m home, jumping at every sound and hesitant to go out my door as I know as soon as he knows I"m home he'll be over for a chat and it will be a minefield of boring conversation that is laced with things that just make me uncomfortable and wishing he'd go away. I'll try politely to get him to leave, but he'll have some veiled passive aggressive comment.  Today he started verbally abusing the girl next door as he can stand her - she wasn't even home but he kept yelling at her empty unit and saying that he knew she was in there (she wasn't - she works during the day!).  Now this wasn't directed at me, it's something thought that I don't deal well with - abusive rants/anger/confrontation.  I never have.

So today as I stood in my securely locked up unit - trying to pretend that I was asleep/not home (as he'd already been over to bang on my own door countless times this day)  and praying that he'd not come and try to draw me in on what ever his drug altered brain was up too.  I listened to him yell at that empty unit and imagined if the girl next door had of been home, how scared she'd have been - if it was me I'd have been calling the cops straight away.  The truly scary thing is, that with any wind change that anger and abuse could very well be directed my way. What if I say no the next time he asks for a few dollars or use my phone to call his parents (as he never has credit)  ... will he get sick of me and lay into me verbally next?

I knew given that it wasn't even four o'clock yet and he was in such a state that he'd get worse as the night wore on, that he'd end up at my door banging on it and I'd be walking on egg shells, trying to stay safe with in these walls.   I new I'd have to at some point talk to him, that he'd seem me through the door or hear me flush the toliet and know I was awake. He'd know I was avoiding/ignoring him and I knew that wouldn't be a good outcome.   So I really had no choice but for my own safety and wellbeing to get out of the house, making damn sure he knew I wasn't home in the process.   I actually didn't even feel comfortable leaving the cats to fend for themselves.

I can't say if I fears are really all that rational, maybe noting would happen and he'd just stay quietly in his own unit all night (he didn't - heard him out swearing at someone not long ago).   There is a small part of me is wondering if I'm over reacting because I'm just not use to dealing with this kind of situation at all.  Maybe nothing would ever happen, maybe he is just all loud voice  and nothing else. I'm not sure if I want to stay to find out.

I called my parents and asked for them to come get me.  I didn't want to worry them, I didn't really want to tell them anything about what was going on as I knew they would have the added fear of knowing I was here on my own day after day with this dick head just two doors down.   But I told them and the only solution we can come up with is that I'm going to move - TOMORROW.  I'm moving in with my big brother as he has a house all to himself and has the room.  I hate that I have to do this.  I hate that I have to go running back to my family as I've gotten myself into yet another mess.   I'm stressed out about how it's all going to work out living with my brother as we don't have 'deep' relationship, I know I'm going to drive him up the wall and do things he doesn't like.  I know he'll annoy the crap out of me and I'm so not use to having to live with someone else.

The situation isn't ideal, but I have no other choice at the end of the day.  I'm scared about tomorrow more so about the upheaval the cats are about to go through.  I feel like a bad kitty mother right now.

This could be the best decision I have made, or the worst.   It's just frustrating that once again though no real action/cause on my side I've once again found myself in a mess.  I'm always picking up the pieces.  

fingers crossed that life only gets better from here and this was my rock bottom, as I don't know if I can take anymore 'mss'.

And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow.

Well it's another year.  I wish I was lightyears ahead of where I am but this is where I'm at.

I'm on my own.
I'm broke - maybe even broken
I have no self confidence
and am fighting myself to find away out of this all.

It's been hard. I've been too soft.  The pills aren't working - I have to address that.

Things this year are going to change.  I don't want to be here again next year.  Not with in this walls, with in this mind.

I don't care if I'm alone.   I can handle that.

But I don't want to feel empty anymore.  I want to feel value with in myself and that I can take on the world no matter what it throws at me.


It's not going to be easy.  But I have to give it everything I've got because if I don't there is nothing left, it (I) will only get worse.

put your right foot in and shake it all about

Sometimes, I honestly really do wish that they had of cut off my leg/foot when I was 12.

I twisted my ankle during the christmas holidays of 1990.  At the time there was an infection in my system that saw this as a great chance to attack me while I was down.   A simple infection that could have been treated with Antibiotics, but my Dr didn't pick it up, he was out of his depth and went to the only reasonable explanation (as there was no break) to cover why I was so much pain - I must be putting it on for christmas!!  Yeap he said that.  He also said he'd put my foot in a cast to hopefully 'make me happy' (and basically shut me up).

Christmas day I was in hospital and I won't go into the gory details but while in hospital I was at risk of having my leg amputated if the infection became bad.  Lucky (or unlucky as the case maybe) the infection didn't take hold and the first skin graft operation was a success.

Ever since I have not known a day without some type of pain.  I had to learn to walk again and I had to learn what it was like to live with an invisible disability.  This is the main reason I wish my leg had of been cut off.   Because then I wouldn't have to deal with the looks, the judgments that I get from people (family and friends) when I say I can't do something because of my foot - or how much I've messed up my life because of it.   Yes I've used it as an excuses, yes I haven't always done the right things and I am well aware of just how much I have let it ruin my life.

Being an Amputee there would have been a lot more support in the transition back to 'normal' life, and that care would have continued long after I'd learnt to stand on my own two feet again.  

It's hard not to feel as no one truly understands about my foot, to them I'm just a normal person with two arms and two legs, just like them.  I'm sure many people, like that Doctor many years ago, just think I'm 'putting it on.  I'm sure they just think I'm lazy and should just suck it up, after all it can't be that bad can it - I walk here and there I can stand up, I can look after myself.

Yes that's true.  But I can't walk for long, I can't stand for long, I can't drive a car.  I've learnt over the years how to manage things, what I can and can't do.  There are things I will do that I will pay for later on that day.   You might see me walking early but what you won't see is that night when I can't walk when I have to revert back to the walking techniques of a toddler and use the furniture around the room to support me as I try and navigate me way around my small apartment.   If you look closely when I walk you'll see that my calfs are two different sizes. My bad leg is slightly turned out after years of walking with my foot twisted outwards to alleviate the pain as it worsens when I have no option but to continue walking.

If I had of been an amputee, my lack of employment wouldn't be a source of embarrassment it would be understandable.  But then too I think if I had of been an amputee my level of employment wouldn't have been so bad, as at least then at a job interview they would understand my limitations - vs when they are just looking at someone who seems able bodied.    Plus add to that due to my foot I can't wear fancy closed in shoes, my foot wear consists of sandals and sneakers - it never looks good turning up to a job interview in your business outfit, having to wear a pair of sneakers because you know you'll have to walk a distance from the train station to get there....  

I feel that most people I know - even those who know about my foot - judge me quite badly in regards to my lack of jobs, they can't understand how it is that I can't find work.  Why I can't do the simple things that anyone can.  I'm tired of the 'you just aren't trying hard enough'  - 'you need to consider other things as well'.   Again I think they just see me as lazy and someone who likes to sit around the house all day.

If I had of been an amputee,  I feel that people would have been more kind, more understanding and more willing to help out.  Maybe I would feel like the things I had overcome and the achievements I had gained (study, work etc) where something to be proud of,  instead of feeling like I have achieved nothing of value.

But I'm not.  So will just have to keep trying to overcome this all on my own, one painful step at a time haha.

are you, are you coming to the tree.

So the world if full of ups and downs.

This year wasn't a good one.  I can't remember the last time I actually had one of those actually.  Maybe the year I started working and moved into my own (rented) house.  So what's that 2010? 2009? 

Somewhere back there anyways. 

So the universe has thrown up another shit storm for me.  I really must have been a bad person in a past life.  It's really my own fault, I made a mistake and should have thought through a decision more.   It's left me completely broke and so far in debt it's not funny.   I'm trying to pretend that it's not going on but it's not going to help any by sticking my head in the sand.  

Uni is not going well, I wanted to be finished by the end of the month.  But sadly that isn't going to happen now.  I've got another year of it all to get through.   Then the daunting task of finding a job yet again.   It's hard to stay positive when every little bit of your being is screaming that you are not good at anything, that you have nothing to offer and that this is all you get.   

At the worst moments I find myself wanting to just open up my veins - throw my arms out wide and just let all the worry run away.  

I never would.   But it's moments like that I understand the urge people have to cut.  I get it. I could never do it.  Mainly because I know if I started it'd be the 'end' that I'd never stop and it would just go down hill from there.  

For now I'm keeping my head up.  Trying to hold it all together and just hold out for the day it'll all be better.  

Light of my life

Okay so it is time for something light on here.

I haven't mentioned anything on here about my time working for a local animal shelter.  But I did for over a year (as a volunteer)  that was an eye opening experience there was lots of good but in the end it kind of ended up in heartbreak so hey this post is to be happy - I'll keep that for another day!

The good parts was being able to save many cats and kittens - to actually make a difference.  I was never meant to foster, but still managed to accumulate a few foster babies over time.  Once I was on my own this was even easier as I only had myself to worry about, well myself and Arthur my resident fluffy man.

Let me tell you about Arthur, I adopted him from the RSPCA in 2010. I have always been a cat person and I was missing not having a furry friend in my life, so when Stacy and the Real estate filly agreed to let me have one, there was no stopping me. I actually adopted Arthur on the day I got the approval.   He was only 8 months old and the sweetest scared ball of grey fluff,  at that time his name was Smokey, but that was never going to stay for long.    The story on how got his name is actually thanks to Stacy's best friend Trevor who suggested it....  Arthur, it is the name of a pig owned by the main character of an Australian  comic book series called Platinum Grit.  I really liked it so his name became Sir Arthur Sebastian (after Dave Listers alternative personality in Better then Life - yes I like Red Dwarf - no I'm not a nerd haha) Stokes (-Brennan - but lets not go there!).

Now I think I'll just change that story and say he is named after Arthur Dent from Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy ...  I like that story better.   Here are some cute little photos of my boy.

His is a best cat, he loves to cuddle, goes nuts for brushes and is just a general easy laid back boy (unless he wants food - then he can get quite vocal about it all - a new trait!).He has the softest purr and when you hear it, it just melts your heart because you know it's special as he doesn't purr often.  He currently likes to curl up in my arms which is very cute (and annoying sometimes).   He was always a good big foster brother, actually sometimes he was too good and would let his foster siblings eat his food.  He is a lover, not a fighter.  Actually he is a big scaredy cat, he doesn't like loud noises or new people, he'll even still hide under a chair when people he knows well stop by. If he doesn't know them, he'll hide under the bed.

So yes I love him to bits and would never give him up, it was the one thing that stressed me the most when Stacy and I broke up, I didn't want to lose Arthur.  I am thankful everyday that I could keep him, my life wouldn't be whole without him.  

Not long after I'd moved into my own place,  a little itty bitty Kitten came into my life,  he'd been taken in while the shelter had evacuated due to the threat of flooding  (long story that I won't go into as it's not a happy one)  ....   So short story is this little kitten who should have been still with him mum and was at risk of going to the shelter and contracting cat flu which at his age was dangerous as he'd most likely not make it.. (told you it was sad and that's just the short version!). I'd seen enough of that at this point, so it wasn't even a question he came home with me.   

He was undeniably cute and fluffy, he also didn't have a tai, I gave him the unfortunate name of December and the reason for that is a very sad story, one I won't tell right now!! Poor December didn't like me very much at first, as I kept him locked up in a create in my bedroom and he only came out when it was time for his bottle feeds.   So the first few days where spent with a very vocal kitten climbing his create and wondering where his family had gone.    Normaly I would have just set him up in the bathroom, but at that time I actually had another 3 little foster babies calling that home as they stayed with me while the shelter was evacuated.  

Arthur didn't really care that any of the kittens, he was curious about the three in the bathroom that he wasn't allowed to play with (as they had cat flu) and I think he wasn't quite sure what that little thing making all the noise was on top of my dresser. 

As soon as the bathroom kitties went back to the shelter, a new visitor was in there, a little Grey girl a few weeks older then December that I named January (I started a month of the years name theme haha).  Arthur was soon being driven nuts by December when ever he was allowed out of his create and January joined in when she was given the all clear health wise.  Unfortunately, January needed a bit of extra care so she ended up only staying for a little while before she went to a new career where she flourished.  

December moved into the bathroom, just as two little kittens, brothers who had no mom and where too young to look after themselves, so needless to say they moved straight into the newly emptied cat create.  The brothers, who soon got named August and September, didn't like being bottle feed, after lots of stress and worry about their weight gain, they finally started to flourish and when give the all clear, they soon where out running around with December.   Poor Arthur now had 3 kittens to hide from.   

Right at this time, the shelter shut down (again - not a light happy tail either).   So December, August and September became my longest fosters.   August and September were complete snuggle bunnies, they got on well with the other two boys, actually the only one who ever needed to be pulled up for begin to rough was December as he had a bit more size to him then the other two kittens.  

December on top September (L) and August (R) 

I was careful to not get to attached to any of the kittens, after all they would all be going back to the centre for adoption (although they would be going to another of the companies shelters).  Everyone who meet December feel in love with him, everyone thought I should keep him.  But I was adamant.  he wasn't what I wanted in my next cat.  When I was growing up our family cat Sokey would pad and give kisses, she'd but her head into yours and it is something I missed and wanted in my next cat (I also kinda wanted a girl!).    I had actually fallen in love with an adult cat who was at the centre when it closed (and I knew who had him on foster) ... he was a beautiful white fluffy boy with bi coloured eyes who even though he was extremely sick, would raise his head and give me a head but every time I would visit him in sick bay.   He was my dream cat, and because I had every intention of adopting him and making him mine, I named him Lancelot (as I had decided to go with a King Arthur theme) if it August and September hadn't of needed to be bottle fed he would have come home with me.   Happily his foster mum feel in love with him and I didn't have the heart to say she couldn't keep him, I also knew he'd be well loved and taken care of - he even got to keep the name I'd given him!

The day finally came to take all three boys back, I packed them up into their carriers, September and August in one from the centre, and December in the one I had for Arthur (which should have been a sign!).   We drove them them all the way down to the other shelter to go up for adoption.   I felt fine. I was prepared to say good-bye to them.  I was had my fingers crossed that they would get adopted quickly as I knew I would hate to think of them at the centre for too long.  I prayed they would stay healthy (as they would be exposed to other kittens that had, had cat flu).   

It wasn't until it came the moment of hand over that I made a choice I would never regret.  I handed over August and September, but December was 'staying'.   The poor little man had made the trip all the way down to the other shelter only to have to come all the way back...  I'm not sure who was more surprised about this decision, me or him.   I still don't know WHY I decided to keep him, he wasn't what I wanted in a cat and I know he would have been adopted straight away (just like the two other boys where).   

But yes.  I became a crazy cat lady officially that day.  He's now going on two years old (in December) and sadly I haven't had any fosters since.  He is a complete weirdo and makes me laugh nearly every day,  one look at him sleeping on his back legs in the air (no matter how many times I see it) will always make me smile.  He purrs at the drop of a hat and it is the cutest thing in the world to watch him wag his little tail stump.  I often wonder how big and fluffy his tail would have been, I have a sneaking feeling it would have been HUGE. (much like everything else about him)

I won't say that Arthur and December are the best of friends, they get along fairly well, but I think it's safe to say that they really are very much like siblings.  They play fight, chase each other around the house, don't like to share their toys and out of the blue will just be extremely cute, they will clean each others fur and snuggle up together (although this is a very rare occurrence).   December is less cuddly then Arthur, but he will come for pats often and likes to have his belly scratched.  Unlike Arthur he loves people and will flop down at complete strangers feet and invite them to pat his belly.   While Arthur is obsessed with brushes, December is obsessed with playing fetch.  It isn't uncommon to wake in the morning to find a cat toy in the bed waiting for me to throw for him (he's a little nuts) and when I'm home I'll often have toys laid at my feet for a new game of fetch... the more I ignore him the bigger the pile of toys.  December has gained himself the nick name Pork Chop, as he seems to have taken after his owner and become a bit of a chubba (even though he gets fed the same as Arthur).  He has a whole extra killo over Arthur, and is also a bit of an alpha kitty so I do need to keep him inline at times to make sure he's not driving Arthur to nuts.  

But Arthur gets his own back now and then.  Nothing makes me laugh more then when Arthur will pounce on December.  Or when Arthur will jump up to a high point in the house as December is unable to jump very high.  This drives December crazy.  It also makes it easy to put Arthurs food up high as he will take his time eating his wet food and December eats his all in one go (and then eats Arthurs if he's left some behind - hence putting Arthurs food up out of reach).  

I worry often about December developing spinal problems later on down the track, as he does have a few issues with not having a tail (it's called Manx syndrome).  He may not live for as long as a normal cat as Manx's can have shorter life spans.  I have over time picked up that he does have (what I believe to be ) a pinched nerve that will play up on him from time to time. It's nothing serious and I hope it will stay that way.  

As much as I love Arthur and would be lost without him.   December has been my saving grace this last year and a bit.  If he is my payoff for all the crap I went through then I think it may have just been worth it. 

Now cuteness overload.   

I was going to say sorry for such a long post but nah ....  no one is reading this but me, and I don't mind reading all about my babies hehe.   

    

Struck from a great height by someone who should know better than that

I'm looking forward to the day that I feel like writing in here about something happy.   But for now it's still all about the glass being half empty I'm afraid.

I'm not looking forward to the following week, a lot of stress coming up and currently I don't handle that too well.  At least this time I'm trying to work out straggles to get through it all.  It's going to be a fight everyday but I have to get through it - I don't have any other choice really.   So I just keep putting one foot in front of the other hopping that one day I'll wake up and have all the answers.  

I don't know if I mentioned it but I'm back studying again, at first it was easy, I was full of positive energy, excited about finally getting my degree done and taking on the world.   Then things crept up on me,  my self confidence took a nose dive and my world got so much smaller.

Having nearly zero self confidence makes it very hard to work on group assignments.  At the moment I'm stuck in a group with people who have only just been able to start drinking legally.  It freaks me out each time I realise that the year that I was graduating from high school, they hadn't even turned one.  

If you knew me before you'd know I wasn't only fun to be around - but I also was a bit of a control freak.   I would try to take control of everything.  It actually has been a trait I've struggled with over the years, as mixed with my want to please people and my innate ability to not read people.  It caused problems.   So now I find myself stuck, I don't have the confidence to disagree with what other people say or don't know how to 'assert' myself with people so much younger then me.

With my current assignment I don't think we'll get a very good mark - I don't think we have gone down the right track and com up with the best ideas.  But I don't believe in myself enough to argue, I see these kids take one look at me turn their backs and I just give in.

Today I found myself thinking about the fact that once I finish uni these are the people I will be up against when it comes to looking for work and even with all my life experience I really don't have anything 'over' these kids.   It's hard to work so hard at uni when everything just feels so hopeless, but that's all related back to the whole self confidence issues.  

Slowly I'm chipping away at everything that attacks it and brings me to my knees, it's a tough fight most times and something that is most likely going to take a life time to work on.   I just have to get through next week and go from there...