Bipolar – She Expected MeTo Yell…


My daughter brought home an adorable kitten about 4 months old that was abandoned beside a road near a Walmart. This brings our total animal pet population that doesn’t live in a tank of any kind, to four cats and one dog whose nerves are slightly unraveled.

You know any baby needs to be watched closely or else they dive into the clothing displays and refuse to answer when called. Or they, if they are a kitten, climbs up and over and makes a mad, hopping break for freedom.

Today I had the kitten, who happens to be expert in the fine art of zooming over, under or through somehow the barricades that have evolved over this last week. She always finds a weakness and launches herself at it. She’s fearless. That doesn’t help me keep her contained.

I had the bedroom doors closed for an hour or so. My cat, Maks, was in my room alone. It was obvious, therefore, that it was him that took a goopy poop in the middle my bed. My heavens it stank like death! (The really good part is next.)

It used to be that every moment I could be aggravated, I was. It was ugly, that is, my behavior was super horrible. The first think I did, absolutely every time, I would begin to yell. My yelling could be heard out on the sidewalk. But this time – a calm voice asked for help getting something to get the area on my duvet there the mess had soaked through. Still, my voice was quiet and astonishingly calm.

“I expected you to be mad and yelling, but you’re not.”

Nope, no yelling. I wasn’t even trying to be calm. In fact, even I noticed how calm I was. It was kind of creepy.

There it is. Maybe not a super exciting story , but for me it was huge. And it reminded me, that even when I’m depressed, like I have been recently, I can still change for the better.

The things people I love have had to endure over the years is terrifying. I want them to see me change like Jessica did.

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