I screamed as I stood in the hallway, a flying Bengali terror headed straight for my face. Baby Girl had leapt into the air after a teaser toy and headed straight for me! Her mouth was open, showing all her teeth, all four legs outstretched, claws extended. Of course I screamed. Anyone would.
We strongly suspect Baby Girl (Little Girl to Ron) is a Bengal. Only God knows how she ended up in my yard. No one lost her. So, she's been ours for a year. She is the brown spotted tabby in my slideshow to the right.
She has some Bengal mannerisms, meowing while eating, a very "different" meow, unique coloration, and a very high play drive. I've told Ron I think God sent her to us to give me a playmate when I'm depressed.
Torbie is awesome, don't get me wrong, but she's not very lively. Baby Girl will literally paw at the laundry room door (home to the laser pointer), howling for playtime. I always take it off and we have a good time playing laser.
I was doing OK until I got to "Jump". I swing the teaser in an arc, a few feet above the floor, exhorting her to "Jump, Jump, Jump!" She will take a flying leap at the teaser (usually away from my face) and I praise her "Good Girl!". We have fun and Ron enjoys the narration.
Then I was attacked (grin). She did drop before she hit me. I then stood in the hall laughing hysterically for a couple of minutes. Not bad for a depression!
Speaking of, I am writing this before meds. We did a lot today, went to Walmart, did a small amount of personal shopping. I found a performance fabric tshirt in loud orange, perfect for a Bible Handout. I returned something I had bought. We got soda for work. I also found some really good beef jerky.
Both Ron and I plan to get more tomorrow. It doesn't have the chemicals, so it tastes way better. It's also surprisingly affordable. www.dukesmeats.com Ron calls it "The smoky"
"I'm getting my own bag of the smoky tomorrow". It is also insanely low carb. Insanely good. I'm eating a piece right now.
On our way to work, I met yet another ignorant person who basically told me I was letting the devil force depression on me, that I "didn't have to accept it" - said phrase being repeated several times. I wonder if she tells her wheelchair users they don't have to accept it. She didn't tell Ron he didn't have to accept being blind and having had a stroke. No. I am mentally ill, therefore I can be kicked because my problem is *only* spiritual.
I am not a fan of the treatment, as I consider it. They always imply I am weak, easily manipulated, addicted to evil big pharm medications (she didn't get into that but most do), spiritually wimpy, lacking in faith, sinning, etc.
But they never do it with a "real" disability. The sad and shameful thing, I have known this person for a while and thought she was a lot better than that.
I have concluded people like that don't want to empathize, so they make it my fault instead. It's my fault, they don't have to feel bad for me. I did it to myself. So they believe.
I know that God created me with bipolar disorder, He allowed me to have the brain damage, because He can only use me this way. Who am I to tell God what should happen with my body? It's His creation. If I can reach people like this, bring it. That's always been my attitude.
Ron calls me "A Good Soldier". I hope so.
We went to work, the machines looked good, we got the soda stocked. We did what we needed to do and then left, and went to our other location. They left us there for a while, so I got a few things at the Dollar Store.
I also found a wondrous place. Frozen Yogurt. They have a plain, unsweetened, frozen yogurt. It was wonderful. One of my happy childhood memories - going to get ice cream. Ice cream and frozen dairy treats are associated with a lot of happy times.
I would LOVE to have some kind of frozen dairy in my life. Now I can. We'll see what my weight says tomorrow. It didn't spike my sugars - I checked my glucose when I got home.
Like I said, I really liked the plain kind, but I put a little (self serve bar) sugarfree strawberry banana in the bowl. Ron liked it.
I think I'm going there for my birthday "cheat". Unsweetened frozen yogurt, maybe with some sugarfee hot topping (like caramel or something). Yum.
Tomorrow, though, I'm definitely getting more jerky.
2 comments:
God has nothing to do with your mental illness. You just got delt an unlucky hand with the genetic lottery. Not to mention the fact that you were born with fetal alcohol syndrome which I am sure contributed to your bipolar disorder. Did your mom also smoke while pregnant?
Things happen in life. It is not God waving a magic wand saying Heather you will have such and such issues. How cruel that the only way you think God could draw you to him as to give you a life that was full of such daunting challenges. What about those born with issues that you have before there were meds to take? What was God's purpose in creating them at that specific time? You are very lucky to have access to meds that can help you live a fairly normal life for the most part.Buy God did not inflict this on your on purpose.
The beauty in your illness is that you can be a person who generates love and consideration and compassion for other people rather than hatred, woe is me and bitterness for the person you have to be because your brain is not wired like other people. Not everyone is capable of thinking any feeling this way.
I understand in this crazy messed up world riddled with sickness, illness (mental and physical), poverty, you name it that we all want to think there is some reason, some calling for the way things are.
My take is that things are just the way they are because life can suck. While at the same time life can be beautiful also. Just as every person on this earth is capable of both good and evil.
It has taken me a long time to understand this and there are times I am sad that God does not map out our lives. Instead it is our choices, actions, attitudes, the behavior of others that create our destiny.
Sometimes we are affected by the actions or in-actions of others.
That is just the way it works as we share this world with many different types of people. But there can be redemption in even the most evil of people. With the exception of a tiny percentage who are just incapable of anything close to being compassionate to other people and who seem to lack any type of conscious.
Well, we're each entitled to our opinion.
I don't see God *afflicting* me so much as "allowing" certain things to happen.
If I didn't have FAS, I would be working 12 hours a day and driving to and from work. I would seldom have another person in my car, and if I did it would be someone I knew.
With FAS, I have a better work schedule, far more flexible, and I am always riding with different people and sharing my faith.
As a friend put it, "Heather, ONLY a crazy woman would hand out Bibles in the ghetto." Maybe it's crazy, maybe it's faith - my preference, but whatever it is I am doing something I feel is very important in an eternal perspective, BECAUSE I have FAS.
My mental illness has given me a tremendous faith in God. I have been through such mental hell that ONLY God could take me through. I have a pretty solid faith as a result of all my mental trails (and the abusive people in my life).
God also led me to the proper diagnosis and medication. He enabled me to function on the absolute cheapest drugs avaiable. I think that's pretty cool.
God allowed me to be abused because people have free will. They have free will to abuse me. Or free will to love and embrace me. I know He will serve justice.
God had done amazing things with people in my life. He turned Ron from a bitter, abusive drunk, into a caring husband. My only ongoing gripe: too many cat treats. He is making them fat. He is also growing in his own faith and becoming the spiritual companion and fellow evangelist I dreamed of.
I hope this helps. :)
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