I decided to get the title of this posting as a tattoo written across the underside of my left forearm. It will be always be there to remind me to think about what comes next. Or, to remind myself that I don't know what the hell comes next and that there is power in that.
Life has challenged me greatly in the past few months on this topic. For starters, there was the "intervention" by Yoga Trainer in early October. That did far less for me on a physical level than it did on a mental one, in case you're wondering. At the time I was envisioning that I was mere days away from finalizing a weight loss plan that would be perfect! and would work! and that I would be happy to do!, blah blah blah. All I have to say to myself three months later is, "Seriously?" It was far from a write-off or failure, though.
It got me thinking about the goals that I could set and achieve for myself, should I be ready and willing to do so. Admitting that I'm not necessarily ready or willing NOW was the hard part. Yoga Trainer has always been extremely pushy when it comes to my needing to set goals for myself. Having told him numerous times that I don't "do" goals, he decided to start setting them on my behalf. And, I always resignedly agreed to them, knowing that I'd walk out of the studio and likely not follow through. And, I'd return a week later and he'd ask me how my goal was going and I'd say "not so great" and he'd get irked and then spend the next $90 of my time trying to get me back on the path to righteousness. It took until mid-December, when YT turned his crosshairs on Honey Bunny instead of me, that I saw how he was setting us ALL up for failure. Yoga Trainer is a great guy and an incredible athlete, but I'm not sure he is as savvy in human relations as he thinks he is. (DUH. Look no further than how he said what he said to me in early October which in retrospect is kind of, well, fucked!)
We have actually not seen YT in awhile. Things got weird. Not only did my dysfunctional pattern with him come to light, his ego pushed Honey Bunny's to the point of literally walking out of a session. Yoga Trainer's three week vacation is now going on five weeks long, so I'm not sure if we are in mutual avoidance mode or what. I'm amenable to going back, but things need to change. I've been thinking a lot about what I need to say to him, and how to say it, and why.
Overall, Honey Bunny and I have had a rough winter together. It's a long and private story but I will say this: after three weeks of a perpetual battle to keep my head above water, there was a moment. I was so completely defeated by the situation and had done everything I could possibly think to do to right it. The next thing that popped into my head was, "I don't know what comes next," and I started to bawl. In telling my therapist about it after the fact, she said she felt that was a very profound moment for me, in which I needed to give up power and control and to be open to letting whatever needed to happen happen without my intervention. I think she's right. Within 10 minutes of admitting my powerlessness over the situation, it started to turn for the better. We're getting there. I don't have all the answers or solutions, which is the way it should be.
Part of our winter has included acclimating to new cats. They moved in in mid-October and it's been a hard adjustment period. We previously had a very mellow, very independent and aging kitty who was one of the loves of my life, and who passed away fairly suddenly in November 2008. My grief was so intense and daily after she died. I'd had 13 years of taking care of my beautiful cat and it was quite a process getting used to her not being there anymore. Every morning for a couple months I would wake up and think I'd hear her footsteps on the hardwood floors, coming to jump on the bed to snuggle with me... but she was no longer there. Just walking through the pet food aisle at the grocery store was torture, knowing I had no kitty to get food for. No feeding her. No scooping her box. No taking her to the backyard on weekends. But most importantly, no way to show love to a physical presence (although her spiritual presence is quite strong). I was so sad, angry, bitter, grief-stricken for so long. Until one day I realized that I no longer automatically looked for her in the morning, no longer cried after being around other people and their pets, and in fact, felt some relief when HB and I went on our annual summer vacation and I didn't have to get a cat sitter for the first time in 13 years. Not that I didn't miss her, because I did and I do and I probably always will. Because, for fuck's sake, grief is the ultimate "I don't know what comes next".
I grew accustomed to having some independence from my apartment and having to take care of another being, while at the same time feeling like something was missing from my life. Our friend's cat had kittens "accidentally" in July, and we asked if we could take two of them. I had such a mellow experience with my previous cat, why not have two... right? They grew up with their mom at home, and then moved in with us three months later.
They are the cutest little cats, playful and sweet and snuggly. One, or both, also has a peeing problem. At this point, all three chairs and the sofa in my living room have been peed on, as well as the bathtub, a small area rug, and almost every new toy they got for Christmas. Yes, the problem is medical for the most part, but there is a behavioral component to it that has to be tended to. I have been schooled by several vets on what to do and right now - and for an undetermined length of time - our bathtub has 2" of water in it, our living room reeks of vinegar (from treatments to get the pee out) and vinyl (vinyl carpet runners cut up to size/shape of the seating it's on, teeth side up), the bedroom is completely off limits, and they are contained in the back half of our apt while we are not at home and at bedtime. I literally don't know what comes next with them and the peeing and when they will be able to have free reign of the house again, if ever. On my worst days, it has propelled me into panic attacks and I have needed to consider finding a new home for one or both. On my best days, it's simply an adventure and a challenge. As long as I don't try to look too far forward and remember that there is no one hard and fast solution, I'm good. As long as I can remember the great and rewarding things about having cats, I'm good.
I will always wish I had that crystal ball to see what comes next and when. Instead, all I can do is take a deep breath and move forward and know that "what comes next" is only partially determined by me.
*****
UPDATE 1/12/10: Yoga Trainer called literally 10 minutes after I posted this and asked to talk in length about our relationship going forward. I don't think he's a reader, but who knows!
