So anyway I have for long seen that every bad moment in my life, however bad, however long, involved a phone call from my Mom. An inappropriate one. A spurned one. Whatever. Now I’m seeing this other [still grieving over Thomas, finally, pain in my gut as I have to cut it off to finish this post, that’s the course I chose] Now I’m seeing this other connection, matters of major moral issues being linked to the lives of cats in my mother’s family. [Not to mention Daisy, who lost her friend and protection in her last year. I gave a whole three month hospitalization on an acute-care psychiatric ward in Florida (oh god now I see it) over to the lost of my little gray queen cat. (The “DO”, “DO NOT” voice which was a precursor to my present God-voice, I believe, started as Daisy was dying. I could never figure it before, what this voice was about. oh God oh God oh God, the relief of realization, the pain giving way to truth and insight.)
So now here it is. My son has two cats. Two young, male black and grey and white tigers. Tigger was a black and grey and white tiger. All three are/were very beautiful cats. Tigger was never really my favorite of Daisy’s four kittens. I guess because he was my mother’s favorite.
My mother is threatening them, as of a call to me this morning. Because of the “Munchaussen by proxy” threat which was a counter to her threatening to have me “picked up” if I even thought about tapering my anti-pscychotic without her “input.” (Last thing I remember she was telling me to stop taking all my meds.) Which I did. But it didn’t work, because her threat made me too nervous so I had to restart the full dose a day later, last night.
She knows about the porn. She’s never mentioned it to me but she makes oblique references. This is a long story that has gone nowhere for my reader but I had to get it out as it whirled through my mind a little while after the phone call from my mother. She is threatening to take his cats away, saying he doesn’t take care of them. She puts the cart before the horse to make you panic at the thought of something before she does it, quintilliating the impossibility of the thing before it happens. Explosive brain-glitching, for me. I doon know how it affects my son. We are getting closer. He used to share his masturbation life with me as a part of his maturation, this morning he got real mad when I approached him with a blanket to cover him up when I went to try to wake him up. He’s blowing off her threat. She won’t do anything, he said. I’m glitching and quintilliating, hence this post.
I have said a lot in these three posts but what is most important, putting it all together, is that I have to forgive my mother everything, because I do understand about getting carried away with a cat.
Somewhere in a book I read this quote: I wish I could remember how it went exactly but I find I can’t. Something about how the border between cat and human thins and a person becomes a “keeper” of a cat.