Kitten Watch Update: July 6

Leo says peekaboo. Me, too. We’ve both been hidey for a few days, and now we’re poking our heads back up.

A week ago, I was feeling anxious. Panicky. Full of murky dread. This is what happens with a Wonky Brain. Inexplicable, unreasonable fear. For me, mostly at night. That’s when my monsters come out. And it doesn’t matter that it isn’t logical and doesn’t make sense. At night when it’s under the weather, mentally speaking, the Wonky Brain doesn’t play the Sense-Making Game.

So I did what I’ve learned to do. I let the Wonky Brain be afraid at night. I remembered I’m not alone. I said gentle, kind things to Myself. But I also didn’t let Nighttime Lizard Brain make my decisions. If I’d done that, I wouldn’t have left my house for the weekend. I would’ve locked all my Humans and all my Animals inside. We would’ve stayed here Forever. Instead, I let Daytime Brain choose; she’s still Wonky, still sometimes Filled with Fear, but she’s a touch more steady. A bit better at nudging me toward Healthy Choices instead of Anxiety-Fueled ones.

Daytime (Wonky) Brain nudged me north to Lake Sutherland in Washington. Daytime Brain reminded me that Outside and Sunshine and Water and My Favorite Humans are good for me. Daytime Brain reminded me that, YES, ALL MY PEOPLE WILL DIE AND THE ANIMALS, TOO, but probably not right now. And not because I engaged in Risky Behavior like Leaving My Home. Daytime Brain said “shhhh” and “i know” and “trust me.” So I did. And it was glorious, breathing mountain air. It was glorious, breathing in my people.

This is why I listen to Daytime Brain. And this is why I can poke my head back up. Maybe writing it down will help Nighttime Lizard Brain settle. Maybe writing it down will help our Nighttime Lizard Brains know we’re not alone.

 

Little Miss Mary is still teeny tiny, BUT I think she MIGHT weigh enough to get her first vaccines tomorrow. 🙌🏼 Aden took care of the babies while we were at the lake for a few days (he detests, hates, ABHORS fireworks—sensory issues are real, yo—and one of the joys of becoming an adult has been opting out of Independence Day), and the kittens thrived. Good work, man!

P.S. I adore Mary’s giant ears.

ABOUT BETH WOOLSEY I'm a writer. And a mess. And mouthy, brave, and strong. I believe we all belong to each other. I believe in the long way 'round. And I believe, always, in grace in the grime and wonder in the wild of a life lived off course from what was, once, a perfectly good plan.
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