Monday, October 21, 2019

Monday noon

I am getting manic which is a mixed blessing.  I will have time to adjust before the depression hits but I will look like a total, insensitive, bitch to everyone else. 

I keep playing this:

Dancing's not a Crime, (unless you do it without me).  It makes sense to me, my friend had health problems, a bad back and other issues, they weighed on him.  When he goes that is all gone.  Ron died and came back, and he says it is fantastic beyond words.  I believe him. 

So I believe my friend is dancing, or will when they make the decision.  I feel horrible for his family, this is going to be a huge blow to them.  I will tend to them as best I can, I have his wife's cell phone.  Without being a pest. 

So, dealing with all that, which hasn't really hit yet due to mania.  My Dad told me about my (good) grandmother's death during a bad depression and that was a hard time for me, but before medication.  Other bad news received during manias was dealt with in due time. 

My stepfather died when I was about 7-8 and I had a hard time with that.  It was explained to me he had "gone to sleep forever and (I) could not visit anymore".  Happily I know better now. 

Mama Cat, Spotty, and Cleo were begging when I got home so I gave them a saucy seafood something.  They liked the sauce just fine but won't touch the meat.  I gave them some dry, they ate it and I put it up when they walked off. 

I gave Cleo some hamburger, which she forfeited to her mother - Mama checked it out, said "No thanks" and let Cleo eat it after all.  Later on I heard a commotion in the front room.  I have 3 cat condos and one cat tree in the room.  Cleo had gotten a claw stuck and was frantically trying to remove it.  She couldn't because she was pulling back.  You have to go up and then back. 

I headed for her, she meowed pitifully and I reached, she was so freaked out she backed up and got her claw loose.  Poor baby.  If she weren't Cleo I would take her in for a claw trim but they would have to sedate her for that.  Not worth the wear and tear to cat, vet, me, and staff. 

Cleo very seldom does "real" meows, she tends to squeak which I find very endearing.  If she is very motivated or frightened she will give a real meow but it is not common because I like to think I take good care of her. 

I tried to lie down but too manic.  Biscuit came and visited for a while, then Torbie, they are sleeping in the bed but I can't and it is better for me to just stay up.  I will just run myself down. 

Ron is very aggravated his ear wax has his good ear clogged.  He is about ready to go to a doctor for it and BY THE WAY can we get a look at this leg?  That is my plan at least. 

No one has told me anything since this morning when I heard from his family he was doing very poorly, then someone else (not family) told me he was going to die.  Like I said, dying isn't a bad thing.  I think that is the huge appeal of suicide - that things will get better. 

NOT suicidal, about the farthest you can get from that right now - I am in a manic bubble and OK 'till it pops. 

I am a little worried about the cats, he had a couple and his wife is not a big fan.  I am hoping she does not ask me to take them.  But I am not going to worry about that until I hear he has died.  Everything to that point is supposition. 

Just once I would like a boring life. 

Ron took his vitamins, let me clean his leg again, and ate a good amount of protein.  He is napping right now. 

I assume he will decide if he's going to the doctor when he gets up.  Oh, and the probiotics came today. 

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