So, parts of this post a probably going to sound like a "Oh boohoo" Dramatic Hallmark movie post... But I don't really care. I'm just going to post it how it is. Because this is my story... this is what I remember.... when I lost all that I had... and there was only one person that was there for me...
My imaginary friend. Mr. Furries.
Psssssych. Not really. Of course now you're probably upset because you were thinking this was going to be immensely entertaining. Well... hopefully it still will be :)
No, I didn't lose everything. And I didn't have an imaginary friend.
However, I will be honest and say sometimes it felt like I didn't really have anything. There were several factors to this. I hit a point in my life where I was at my lowest, in my relationship with Christ, in what I was doing with my life (I was unemployed for one thing), how I perceived my self-image (I was over 300 lbs. at the time, and as much as I just wanted to be okay with that, I wasn't), and then of course feeling the ever strangling grip of Loneliness as far as my "love life" was concerned. All of this threw me into probably one of the most deep emotionally dark wells that any human being can experience.
Depression.
Very few people knew I was dealing with it, and those that did (mostly a couple family members) didn't even know to what extent I was experiencing it.
It was one of the most difficult seasons of my life. You know, recently I read the book of Ecclesiastes in the Bible. The theme of the book? All is vanity. Solomon, having strayed from God, was in the darkest lowest point of his life, and he didn't hold anything back. Reading it, I was able to totally empathize. That was what I had felt during my Depression. All was vanity. Nothing mattered. Everything was hopeless. I would steal a few moments of happiness here and there, but those moments always came to an end, they never lasted. So whenever something good happened to make me feel happy, I would almost immediately inwardly start despairing. "Why am I getting happy?" I would think. "This is not going to last."
I tried restoring my relationship with Christ... yet for every step I took forward I felt like I would dive seven steps back. I wanted to have purpose for my life, but because of my damaged relationship with God (or at least what I perceived as a damaged relationship) I had no motivation to find purpose. I tried to lose weight, and tried hard, but to no avail, and eventually lost energy and motivation to even try. I tried to muster up courage to try and connect with the opposite gender, but found that all the women I went after had the annoying habit of either being engaged or already married, or just several decades older than me (okay, maybe not several decades), and of course aside from that my self-image was very low, therefore my self-confidence was low.
To sum it all up? It was a horrifying time in my life. "Horrifying" is honestly the best word I can use to describe it. No one could help me in the long term, God was distant and angry with me (which was not true, but that's how I perceived it) and I was angry with Him because if He didn't want me to fall into sin than then why was He allowing me to do so? He's in control, so I He can stop me, but yet He's not. So it's His fault.... Even though deep down I knew this wasn't true. Horrifying time period.
Now... There were many things that helped me survive this time period. But there is one that, last night as I was thinking, really had one of the bigger impacts on me. And it might not be what you'd expect. Or it might be.
There was some"one" that was always there, throughout all the disaster, all the horror. Some"one" who gave me such happiness (and entertainment) when I most needed it. Some"one" that, in a lot of ways, felt almost like a best friend... or maybe even weirdly enough a "sibling."
Are you ready for this? Can you handle what I am about to tell you?
.....
Some animals really have strong personalities. Well... let me tell you, Jean has strong personality. She really does. And it makes me laugh, no matter what mood she is in.
Jean, like most cats, believes she is the center of the universe. She is the queen. We humans are her servants. And other cats are foreigners that intrigue her... but overall they are beneath her and are subject either to her ignorance or her taunting and abuse (any new cats we bring into the house... either she just sleeps and pretends to ignore them, or she chases them incessantly around the house). Now Jean goes into moods where she forgets that she is the queen. You start petting her, you start playing with her, and she relishes it. Buuuuuut then suddenly she remembers that you are a servant and decides she does not want to enjoy what you are doing. So she strikes with gnashing teeth and claws.
The only thing that she doesn't mind no matter what mood she is in is using the human lap as a human bed. She never turns down an open lap. And I mean never. If you are just sitting there minding your own business and you have nothing on your lap... consider yourself about to be used, majorly.
As you can see from the pictures... Jean is... well endowed. She is.... blessed with great abundance. She is...... fat. She puts Jabba the Hutt to shame. She is a mass. But that all goes with her personality, and what I love about her. She is often a grumpy, lazy, self-centered pig. But... I still love that about her.
Everything she does, everything she is, entertains me. Sometimes all I have to do is look at her and I start smiling or laughing.
And that is the very effect she had on me during those tough years of my life. No matter what she did, whether it was forgetting her royalty and purring as I pet her and played with her, or getting irritated with me and slapping my hand for daring to touch her with my filthy servant hands. It all made me smile, made me laugh. It would make me laugh that, whenever I went to the bathroom or took a shower she would sit outside the door and just wait for me to come out. That early in the morning she would decide it was time for me to be up and start reaching her white paws underneath my door and crying. And of course she has one of those insane ninja skills that most cats seem to have. You look all over the house for her, call her, rattle the food can for her, but she is no where to be found. Then a few moments later you feel the hairs on the back of your head stand up... and you turn around and there she is, just sitting there, calm and quiet, staring at you, almost as if she has always been there and wondering with amusement what you were doing wandering all over the house.
The other thing that makes me laugh about her is how she pretends to be graceful and agile, when really... she's not. Whenever she jumps up on a surface, she always just misses a complete landing and instead catches the side with her claws and tears away frantically and nervously, trying to pull her hugeness up. She tries to perch and even sleep on surfaces half the size of her mass and seems bewildered when she falls off suddenly.
But sometimes when she causes a disaster it is not due to her inagility (I just coined a new word there)... it's due to her royalty, and all things are subject to her. Often times she will jump up on my entertainment center or bookshelf, and move in such a way that objects start falling off. But she will totally act like it's an accident and just sit there and stare at the objects as they fall, pretending to wonder why things are falling off. Then, as the surface is clear, she will walk around in a circle... and then lie down (usually knocking a couple more things off in the process as she splays herself out).
Another interesting habit she has is that she likes to sleep on paper. Annnd it doesn't matter what size the paper is. It can be as big as a newspaper or magazine... or as small as 1x1 inch ripped piece of printer paper. If it's on a bed or the floor, she will lie on it.
She also every once and a while suddenly gets very hyper. And she will suddenly run around the house, scraping the floors with her claws as she moves frantically, and the sound of the scraping only drives her more insane as her ears go back and her pupils dilate. She will attack random spots on the ground, like microscopic stains in the wood or the carpet. Then... she notices a furry snake following her every move behind her. She stops. Gets a very crazed look in her eyes. The fur on her back starts to stand up. And then... she flips around to attack her tail and chase it in circles. Finally she flops over on her side and is able to catch her tail in both hands and then pulls it to her mouth and chomps down, which causes her to cry out and growl, most likely assuming that the "furry snake" is what is causing her pain.
Also, she likes to go in the bathroom and jump up on the lid of the washer and wait for someone to come in. Once someone enters... she will do everything she can to stop you from leaving. She'll stare at you and cry, and if you try and walk by her she will reach out and swipe you with her paws.
She also has a tendency to act tougher than she actually is. Usually it's with other animals. Like kittens, cats, or even puppies... and sometimes even mice. She will arch her back, bush up her tail, and growl, acting as fierce as she can. The thing is.... most other animals (including fellow cats) really don't take her too seriously. My sister and brother-in-law Sarah and Andrew have a cat that they bring over often. Jean will do just what I mentioned, act menacing. But their cat... well... she just doesn't buy it. So... she usually walks right up to Jean and presses her nose against Jean's. This totally freaks Jean out and she will suddenly take flight and frantically scrape the floors as she runs away. I have seen animals much smaller than her chase her around the house.
Another thing she does is if there is a cup of milk, and the milk is really low in the cup, she will sit in front of the cup and reach her cutest little paw ever deep down, dip it in the milk, pull it out, and then lick her paw, and it is pretty much the cutest thing you will ever see. Even people who don't really like Jean think that she is cute when she does that.
The cat has gotten outside twice, accidentally, but by her own choice because she wanted to explore this big new world out there. But both times I think all the "breath" outside frightened her (I don't think she knows what wind is), and both times I found her trembling under the porch, pupils completely dilated, and fur all roughed up.
One time my sister Sarah and I tried to give her a bath.
It didn't go well.
Oh, and she hates the chemical-y smell of flea gel, and she actually even remembers what the container looks like. You have to hide it behind your back, walk up to her, pet her until she gets comfortable... and then when she's least expecting it squeeze it out on her lower back. And immediately she knows what's just happened and she will then run all over the house all insane-like.
If you make a pfff! Pfff! sound with your mouth and hold your hand out, she thinks you are spraying something at her and her eyes will tremble and wince as if she's getting something in them.
One time—this is kinda gorss. Yes, gorss—she actually got infested on her back by fleas, and they bit her so much and so bad that she lost a lot of fur on her back and her skin got all brown and green and dark red and bumpy. It was SO GORSSSSSS! But we took her to the vet and they injected her back with numby-no-itch'em-stuff so she couldn't feel it. SO it eventually got healed. But the funny thing is—and all this happened several years ago—even now, many, many years later, her back is still extremely sensitive, so if you start scratching it she will start purring like crazy and start licking herself uncontrollably. As soon as you stop scratching, she will stop purring and licking. It's really funny. Okay? You don't even know.
She also likes to sit like a human being sometimes. Or Jabba the Hutt, depending on how you look at it. Excuse me... her.
One time my friend Bob was over at our house and he was eating a slice of pizza. Jean decided that he should not have that pizza and that instead she should have it. So she hopped up on his lap, stepped up his chest, reached her paw into his mouth and literally pulled out the bit of pizza that he was chewing on.
It seems even now that a day does not go by when Jean does not do something that is either thoroughly adorable or thoroughly irritating... yet always, whatever she does, it's entertaining.
And that... is exactly what I needed during those tough years of Depression. Jean could always make me smile, make me laugh, make me get annoyed but then laugh because of how stupid she could be sometimes. In a lot of ways I honestly believe God used her to help me keep my sanity. The bonds some people have with their pets can be incredible. Pets are one of those extra little bonuses thrown in to make life more interesting. And yet... sometimes they can be more than that. I certainly view Jean as more than just a "bonus" in my life.
In a lot of ways... she really was my friend.
Of course, I'm talking about her like she's dead. No, she's not dead. Still alive and well and just as crazy as ever. But of course things are different now. By God's grace I eventually got out of Depression about a year and a half ago. My relationship with Him was restored, I started losing a heck-load of weight, I got a job that helped give me a sense of purpose because I wasn't just sitting around doing nothing anymore. My life really turned around. It's incredible looking back and seeing that now. Of course, as all of this happened, Jean didn't get nearly as much attention from me as she used to, but every once and a while it would be like "old times".
Earlier last year I told my fiancée about how much Jean had helped me in those darker years. Of course Julia took the opportunity to sit down with Jean and pet her and be happy that the feline was there to help me... but then of course she went on to explain to Jean that she was losing her job as my 'supporter' and 'helper'. An "occupation" transfer that I don't mind one bit.
And now, like John the Baptist... Jean is decreasing as Julia increases :-D
The other night as I was getting ready for bed, I shut off the dining room light and just before all the light flickered out of existence I caught a glimpse of Jean sitting on the couch in the living room, watching me. I smiled, flicked back on the light, walked over, and knelt beside her and started petting her. And I found myself reminiscing about how much she had helped me when I most needed something small to just make me smile or laugh. And so I started to talk to her about how much I appreciated what she had meant to me during those long years (heh, even had to fight back some tears as I was doing so), and then, as I continued to pet her, I shifted the conversation to thanking God for giving her to me; giving me a gift that was so small, yet so effective.
Jean will always be my most favorite cat, most favorite pet, most favorite "furry friend". It's not that people around me didn't try to help me with my Depression. But Jean honestly was one of the few creatures in my life that could truly afford to be with me all the time, any time, when I needed the company, and when I needed to be able to smile and laugh in the midst of being choked by the ever thickening darkness around me.
I truly do thank God for her. And I do hope that someday, if not here and now, I can convey my deep gratitude toward her, and, perhaps, in a way that she, at the very least, somewhat understands. That's up to my Heavenly Father to decide and figure out. For now, I will just continue to pet her, kiss her cute fuzzy head, and hug her tightly despite the fact that she clearly hates being hugged, and hope that maybe, just maybe, in some small way she is getting the picture.
Another thing she does is if there is a cup of milk, and the milk is really low in the cup, she will sit in front of the cup and reach her cutest little paw ever deep down, dip it in the milk, pull it out, and then lick her paw, and it is pretty much the cutest thing you will ever see. Even people who don't really like Jean think that she is cute when she does that.
The cat has gotten outside twice, accidentally, but by her own choice because she wanted to explore this big new world out there. But both times I think all the "breath" outside frightened her (I don't think she knows what wind is), and both times I found her trembling under the porch, pupils completely dilated, and fur all roughed up.
One time my sister Sarah and I tried to give her a bath.
It didn't go well.
Oh, and she hates the chemical-y smell of flea gel, and she actually even remembers what the container looks like. You have to hide it behind your back, walk up to her, pet her until she gets comfortable... and then when she's least expecting it squeeze it out on her lower back. And immediately she knows what's just happened and she will then run all over the house all insane-like.
If you make a pfff! Pfff! sound with your mouth and hold your hand out, she thinks you are spraying something at her and her eyes will tremble and wince as if she's getting something in them.
One time—this is kinda gorss. Yes, gorss—she actually got infested on her back by fleas, and they bit her so much and so bad that she lost a lot of fur on her back and her skin got all brown and green and dark red and bumpy. It was SO GORSSSSSS! But we took her to the vet and they injected her back with numby-no-itch'em-stuff so she couldn't feel it. SO it eventually got healed. But the funny thing is—and all this happened several years ago—even now, many, many years later, her back is still extremely sensitive, so if you start scratching it she will start purring like crazy and start licking herself uncontrollably. As soon as you stop scratching, she will stop purring and licking. It's really funny. Okay? You don't even know.
One time my friend Bob was over at our house and he was eating a slice of pizza. Jean decided that he should not have that pizza and that instead she should have it. So she hopped up on his lap, stepped up his chest, reached her paw into his mouth and literally pulled out the bit of pizza that he was chewing on.
It seems even now that a day does not go by when Jean does not do something that is either thoroughly adorable or thoroughly irritating... yet always, whatever she does, it's entertaining.
And that... is exactly what I needed during those tough years of Depression. Jean could always make me smile, make me laugh, make me get annoyed but then laugh because of how stupid she could be sometimes. In a lot of ways I honestly believe God used her to help me keep my sanity. The bonds some people have with their pets can be incredible. Pets are one of those extra little bonuses thrown in to make life more interesting. And yet... sometimes they can be more than that. I certainly view Jean as more than just a "bonus" in my life.
In a lot of ways... she really was my friend.
Of course, I'm talking about her like she's dead. No, she's not dead. Still alive and well and just as crazy as ever. But of course things are different now. By God's grace I eventually got out of Depression about a year and a half ago. My relationship with Him was restored, I started losing a heck-load of weight, I got a job that helped give me a sense of purpose because I wasn't just sitting around doing nothing anymore. My life really turned around. It's incredible looking back and seeing that now. Of course, as all of this happened, Jean didn't get nearly as much attention from me as she used to, but every once and a while it would be like "old times".
Earlier last year I told my fiancée about how much Jean had helped me in those darker years. Of course Julia took the opportunity to sit down with Jean and pet her and be happy that the feline was there to help me... but then of course she went on to explain to Jean that she was losing her job as my 'supporter' and 'helper'. An "occupation" transfer that I don't mind one bit.
And now, like John the Baptist... Jean is decreasing as Julia increases :-D
The other night as I was getting ready for bed, I shut off the dining room light and just before all the light flickered out of existence I caught a glimpse of Jean sitting on the couch in the living room, watching me. I smiled, flicked back on the light, walked over, and knelt beside her and started petting her. And I found myself reminiscing about how much she had helped me when I most needed something small to just make me smile or laugh. And so I started to talk to her about how much I appreciated what she had meant to me during those long years (heh, even had to fight back some tears as I was doing so), and then, as I continued to pet her, I shifted the conversation to thanking God for giving her to me; giving me a gift that was so small, yet so effective.
Jean will always be my most favorite cat, most favorite pet, most favorite "furry friend". It's not that people around me didn't try to help me with my Depression. But Jean honestly was one of the few creatures in my life that could truly afford to be with me all the time, any time, when I needed the company, and when I needed to be able to smile and laugh in the midst of being choked by the ever thickening darkness around me.
I truly do thank God for her. And I do hope that someday, if not here and now, I can convey my deep gratitude toward her, and, perhaps, in a way that she, at the very least, somewhat understands. That's up to my Heavenly Father to decide and figure out. For now, I will just continue to pet her, kiss her cute fuzzy head, and hug her tightly despite the fact that she clearly hates being hugged, and hope that maybe, just maybe, in some small way she is getting the picture.
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