There’s a guy that belongs to the fish club here that I’ve been talking to a lot lately. It seems many of us in the group, including Fin (not his real name) have some sort of physical illness that prevents them from getting out a lot. He has a total of 75 tanks in his house all of which are stunning. I’m in awe when I see them. He’s also got little frogs and chameleons too. I think it would be funny for me to have a chameleon. It seems the perfect pet for a multiple. LOL Anyway, he’s got a beautiful home full of fish that I could spend hours looking at. Also, he doesn’t mind that I ask question after question. His eyes light up and he doesn’t mind that I’m nearly giddy when looking at his tanks. No one in the club knows I have DID and I plan to keep it that way but I’m sure they’ll find out rather quickly that I’m odd. I’ve discovered they’re odd too but in a lovable way.
Archive for the 'Pets' Category
You know you have a problem with anger when the fish have begun to piss you off!!!
There’s a strong possibility that my anger issues have reached their pentacle. I’m just pissed. Here’s the thing, the goldfish keep throwing rocks inside the tank. They’re not little things either; they’re monstrous so when they pick up gravel (to see if it has food on it) they toss it back out of their mouths with power. A healthy fish is always swimming around looking for a tid-bit so that’s not the problem; the problem is that these big mo-fo’s toss around gravel as if no one ever told them the number one rule of living in a glass house. The noise of them ‘throwing rocks’ is much the same as the sound of some kid outside throwing pebbles at your window. Ting, ting, tink, on and on until I want to scream, “You’re not gonna be happy until your stupid asses are on the floor.”
Still quiet, I know. Maybe quiet isn’t the right word. I just don’t care right now. I think that describes things accurately.
Although my words are few I do have a few photos and some new artwork. Uprising and the new Sisters in the Sun painting are now listed on my art site. I destroyed the very first version of Sisters in the Sun but I have my ways of re-creating things. 
The new version, which is very close to the old, can be found here.
The photo of me was taken by my window in my favorite reading spot.
Therapy is going fine. The apartment is wonderful. I’m living. That’s about the size of it.
Jane has gone back to yowling at night. I lay there waiting for it. I’m not getting a lot of sleep right now, not good sleep anyway. Last night I tossed and turned something awful.
Before I went to bed I heard scratching inside my dresser drawer. I didn’t know what was going on UNTIL I opened the drawer and Jane popped out. What on earth is wrong with that girl? What’s wrong with me that I didn’t notice a 12 pound cat sitting in a dresser drawer? When I picked her up to see if she was okay she meowed at me like, “Why did you do that to me?”
I experience joy but for the most part, I’m an angry person. Sometimes I enjoy sharing space but for the most part I want my space the way I want it and I want it undisturbed by noise and movement. This is where Mary Jane comes in. All this has been said before, this is nothing new. I go through this with her repeatedly knowing full well its nothing but PTSD and not at all her fault.
For me the rain is dreary for Lea its time to play and splash about.
The water is receading quickly, which is a shock to me, it usually stays for day. It’s about half where it was just a few short hours ago. I figure Lea had her fun but then it was time for a nice soapy bath and a nap. She’s wrapped in her blanket and tucked in her crate snoring her little heart out. She’s my favorite little wet rat.
I feel a little daft right now.
I know when I see poison oak but I don’t right off recognize poison ivy and I’ve never heard of poison sumac until of course I had to know. (sigh) It seems that two days ago when I went outside and cleared stuff off my fence line I cleared 2 out of three of these plants. Figures huh? Two of the youngest kids next door have it as well. We share a fence. Not good.
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