independent

I won’t forget a single day…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I had to say goodbye to Bronan on Monday. We found out he had hyperthyroidism a few weeks ago. Shortly after I noticed changes in Bronan that led us back to vet. We discovered fluid in his stomach and that his kidneys were in trouble. Bronan had lymphoma. At 19 with diabetes & hyperthyroidism surgery or radiation were not option. The vet gave him injections to relieve symptoms, but told me he didn’t have long. I got another 11 days with him. He stopped eating or drinking at the weekend and it was clear that prolonging his life would be for my benefit rather than his. I’m heartbroken. My home feels so empty without him.

I adopted him from a friend. A change in her circumstances hadn’t agreed with him. She had him & his sister, but he didn’t always love sharing with her. He was home the moment he stepped out of his carrier. He thrived having his domain and me to himself. Always his own man, he came for cuddles when he wanted, wandered his territory as he pleased and demanded my attention as he saw fit. Be that insisting on having breakfast at 6am every day or waking me in the middle of the night because he required a chin rub. He’s had me at his beck & call from the first and I have loved every second of it.

We had a perfect bond. He fit into my life seamlessly. Our personalities matched. A little bit fierce, with a soft belly beneath. He guarded his space fearlessly, no cat, dog or fox was permitted in his garden. He saved his greatest vexation for the Magpies. A foe he hated so much they had their own annoyed meow. Yet, he didn’t kill. Nor did he turn his frustration on people. He never bit or scratched, always gentle for such a big boy. Always easy. He’d appear from a hedge or behind a sofa when I called. He cared not a jot about the twice daily insulin injections he needed in the last few years. My boy charmed everyone who met him. With his handsome face and gentle giant ways. He even learned to love kids. Once wary, he made friends with my little ones. Becoming best of friends with one of nieces, who wanted to visit purely to see him.

Bronan embodies so many of the things I love about cats. He lived on his own terms. Doing exactly as he pleased; bending me to his will. He was independent, lacked patience, had no respect for personal space or any rules I tried to enforce. He could say fuck you with the tiniest narrowing of his eyes. All of which made his choice to love me more satisfying. He didn’t blindly obey or love me unconditionally. He cared for me because he wanted to. I earned his trust & respect. It was a privilege to have it.

More than anything he was part of my healing. He came to me near the beginning of a journey. Joined me in this house that has become a real home. He’s been my companion when I couldn’t bear to see another living being. Somehow he understood me. When my pain is too much he’d let me off easy. He’d lie quietly with me, requiring nothing, soothing me with his purrs. When my mind was troubled, he knew and responded with affection. My boy has aided in the making of huge decisions just by his presence in my life. He has eased my heart when it was shattered by loss. Listened to my tears, singing and the thoughts I only voiced to him.

Bronan is a dream and I will miss him more than I can say. I’ll miss him sleeping on my feet, keeping them warm. I’ll miss the taps on my face when his meows don’t wake me. The sound of his steps on the wooden floor, the way he announces himself with a shout when he comes in his cat flap. I’ll miss being the only person allowed to rub his fluffy belly. I will miss giving him a running commentary of the day and the way he looks over his shoulder to check I am following when he leads me to what he wants. I’ll miss stroking his paws. The tiny white spot above his lip. His snores. The way he crunches & snorts when he eats. I’ll miss him. His attitude, his spirit, his love. All of him.

All by myself…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I’m an ‘independent woman’. I’ve lived alone for basically my whole adult life. I take care of myself (I pay folk to do the manual labour, but still). I enjoy my own company. I can usually get by without too much hand holding.

I have, however, recently become aware of an infuriating blip in my self sufficiency. Since becoming single again I have noticed that I can’t go to the cinema alone. It wouldn’t be a big deal, except for the fact that I love seeing films on the big screen. I used to go weekly with my sister, but the advent of her baba has ruled that out. Almost all of my friends also have little ones. The few that don’t, live in different cities. Obviously, I no longer have a boyfriend to view blockbusters with & the cinema isn’t really a good date place. Which leaves me with, go alone (until I line up a cinema buddy) or don’t go at all. Neither of which felt appealing.

With each passing film that I had really wanted to see I have grown more frustrated with myself. Why can’t I go to cinema alone? I can’t think of much else that I wouldn’t do alone. I’ve travelled solo and eating out by myself doesn’t bother me. I have no problem sitting in bar or cafe, whiling a away an hour or two in my own company. I love living alone, to be honest I think it’s my preference. I attend scary medical appointments and pursue a variety of opportunities alone. Sitting in a darkened room staring at a screen unaccompanied shouldn’t be an issue. I can handle big grown up things without a partner. Why can’t I tackle something so trivial?

The only thing I could come up with is some weird insecurity about being judged. Would people think I don’t have any friends? Are strangers going to think I’m a loser? The obvious answer to these questions is who cares! I’ve never given much credence to the opinions of randoms. I’m not sure why I would start now. Yet, the anxiety persisted. There are of course lots of things that I felt worried about doing alone. Loads of occasions when I required back up or missed an event because I couldn’t face a crowd without a buffer. Whilst, not ideal, I can accept that as part of life with mental health difficulties. I couldn’t, though, make myself ok with just giving up a thing I regularly enjoy.

So, to utilise a cliche, I faced my fears. Full disclosure, I made it really easy. I picked a 10.30am screening when the cinema is practically empty. I also booked my ticket online. Thus minimising the amount of actual person to person contact I had to engage in. I did have all those negative thoughts running through my head. I did it anyway.

I can’t say that I was aware of anyone paying attention to my solo status. Note to everyone, hardly anyone cares about what the people around them look like, wear, are doing & so on. For the most part we’re all too busy dealing with the nonsense that’s going on in our own lives/days/heads. In short, if at all possible, do the thing. Don’t give yourself a hard time if you can’t manage every thing, but at least attempt anything close to manageable. It feels really bloody good to meet even little challenges.

My first me, myself & I movie was Long Shot. It’s not a classic rom com, but it is cute. I find Rogen’s charming outcast bit pretty attractive & there were enough feels to keep me interested. Definitely not a bad way to spend a Monday morning. Oh & I won’t have to see a superhero movie next time. Single life is actually pretty good.