Hope

Let's set the stage first:

This past weekend marked about one full month off of my wellbutrin.  It hasn't always been easy, but after gaining 15 pounds and losing half the volume in my hair while on it, it was well worth it.  I started a new diet and am trying to do my yoga more regularly (in between writing and renovating the kitchen).  I was also sleep-deprived, PMS-ing, and then decided that third whisky/cider drink was a fantastic idea.  So... I had a lot of things going against me.

I fell apart.  While Matt and I were out in public.  We're talking runny nose, broken heel, torn stocking, running mascara "leave Britney alone!" not-so-hot mess.  Ended up sitting on the sidewalk crying while Matt is trying to get me into the car to go home.  Ever wallowed?  I literally wallowed in my self-pity for the better part of an hour.  (Apologies have since been made and I'm feeling much better). 

Anyway, while sitting there, hanging my head (its part of wallowing, look it up) I hear a *meow*.  I look up to see Matt cradling a small young grey and white tabby cat in his arms like a baby - he's petting her stomach and she is just loving it.  For some reason, that is what snapped me out of it.  He said "you did a complete 180 and went from 'I hate life' to 'we need to take care of kitty!'"

Yes, we already have 3 cats and a dog.  But this one, in that instant, literally meant the difference for me - it meant I didn't go home and do anything stupid in my drunken hopeless state.  I went home, instantly sober, removed all my jewelry (and even put it in the right spot in my armoire which I can hardly manage to do on a normal day), washed my face, put on pajamas, and took care of her with my husband.  She's tiny and scared and underfed but adorable. 

Meet Hope.

I'm not saying she's the only reason I have to keep going, but she came to us when I really needed something to push me out of that slump.  I don't often believe in coincidence or signs, but she got me off my ass when all I could do was feel sorry for myself. 

Hope is a funny thing (speaking of both the cat and the verb).  It can creep up on you when you need it, but it also has claws and doesn't come easy.  Sometimes its a right pain in the arse.  Sometimes its scared of everything in the house that's bigger than it, and scratches out of fear.  Sometimes the bigger things avoid it.  Above all, Hope takes work - it needs love and comfort and support and nourishing to grow and thrive.

Thanks, Hope - we'll take care of you from here on out.