Pets: Joy VS Burden

You know what apparently helps people with depression and anxiety?

Having a cat. Or dog, or hamster, or whatever.  Something you can cuddle preferably, that is reliant on you, loves you unconditionally, and you think is totes adorbs.

Therapy animals are real, people.  This is the reason I adopted my cat, Brisco (Yes, he is named for Brisco County, Jr.) This is a tough one though, because there is definitely a balance that needs to be struck.  Ultimately, Brisco does help more than he hinders, but there have definitely been times when I wished I didn’t have him.  As with any creature, he can be annoying, persistent, in the way, etc.

derp

He meows at doors at night, knocks things over, gets in the way, tries to trip you, randomly jumps on your face, tries to eat your toes, attacks anything that moves, scratches you up, and will not let you read in peace!  OMG RIGHT NOW he thinks a great place to sit is directly in front of this computer screen!  So in the darkest time, sometimes a pet can be a definite added stressor and source of frustration/annoyance/helplessness.  That said, I am so grateful to have him in my life.  As I gain back more and more positivity, little by little, I see and feel the benefits.  He’s a non-judgmental listener.  He’s a distraction from my problems.  He is obsessed with me and always wants to be with me.  That’s pretty flattering and good for self-esteem.

 


6 Ways Pets Relieve Depression:
https://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2013/05/19/6-ways-pets-relieve-depression/
Pets for Depression and Health:
http://www.webmd.com/depression/features/pets-depression#1
Depression, Anxiety and Pets
https://www.mentalhelp.net/articles/depression-anxiety-and-pets/
Awwww who can resist dat face… <3

Music Monday: Not Perfect

Music Monday!

Music can be a great source of comfort and inspiration when you’re feeling down.

Today’s song is: “Not Perfect” by Tim Minchin.

Listen to the song here:

Lyrics:

“This is my earth
And I live in it
It’s one third dirt and two thirds water
And it rotates and revolves through space
At rather an impressive pace
And never even messes up my hair.
And here’s the really weird thing
The force created by its spin
Is the force that stops the chaos flooding in.
This is my earth and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect…

This is my country
And I live in it.
It’s pretty big and nice to walk on.
And the bloke who runs my country
Has built a demagoguery
And taught us to be fearful and boring.
And the weirdest thing is that he is
Conservative of politics
But really rather radical of eyebrows.
This is my country and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect…

This is my house
And I live in it
It’s made of cracks and photographs.
We rent off a guy, who bought it from a guy,
Who bought it from a guy, whose granddad left it to him.
And the weirdest thing is that this house
Has locks to keep the baddies out
But they’re mostly used to lock ourselves in.
This is my house and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.

This is my body
And I live in it.
It’s thirty-one and six months old.
It’s changed a lot since it was new.
It’s done stuff it wasn’t built to do.
I often try to fill it up with wine.
And the weirdest thing about it is
I spend so much time hating it
But it never says a bad word about me.
This is my body and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect…

This is my brain
And I live in it.
It’s made of love and bad song lyrics.
It’s tucked away behind my eyes
Where all my screwed up thoughts can hide
‘Cause god forbid I hurt somebody.
And the weirdest thing about a mind
Is that every answer that you find
Is the basis for a brand new cliche.
This is my brain and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect, not quite sure I worked out how to work it.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.”

Why this song’s so cool:  Tim Minchin is so weird.  He primarily does comedy, but this song, while still pretty funny it it’s own, subtle way, is actually pretty deep and inspirational.

Why this song’s helpful: Nothing is perfect, but we’re lucky to have what we have.

More about Tim:

 http://www.timminchin.com/about/

 

What Do You Do When You Don’t Even Want Bacon?

Honestly, I do not. know.

And I hope you never have to experience that feeling.

Mary was Fed Up with Bob…

Another assignment for one of my writing classes:

Mary was fed up with Bob and didn’t quite know how to deal with it.

It had been for some time now that she had realized she wasn’t happy.  Her feelings had changed.  She used to be content with him.  But then, time had passed, and he just wasn’t the same man from before.  He seemed somehow less than he had been, just a dim reflection of the man she had first met.  She was disappointed.  In him, and in herself.  Now she just felt empty, even slightly ill around him. Something was missing.

Mary shook her head slowly as she gazed down at Bob as he reclined in the usual chair.  He seemed so peaceful.  And why not? He didn’t know how hollow and alone she felt.  “Had it all been for nothing?” she wondered.   She caressed his face tenderly and tucked a lonely, graying hair behind his ear.  If only he would open his eyes, then maybe, just maybe things could change.  They could change together. Work things out, give it another go.  She could be less demanding, couldn’t she?  Take less of him?  He could make her feel that way again, couldn’t he? That special way she had only ever felt with him, and only at the beginning- completely full of abundance and love?  He had been the missing part of her, once.  But maybe no one person could ever be enough.

She took her hand away and pondered her situation.  Maybe it was too late. The magic was gone, but why?  Why had his sweetness faded? When had her hunger for him dwindled away into detachment, and then revulsion?  Where was that flavor, that zest, that delicious satisfaction?  His essence seemed to saturate the air. Once, that had been an invigorating comfort, but now… she  didn’t think she could stomach much more.  Mary sighed. It was time to move on. There just wasn’t any room left for him in her life.  Or in her belly.  She was still hungry, but it was time to find someone new to eat.