A is for anxiety.

Anxiety manifests as anger and aloofness and alarming sadness.

(A is also for alliteration)

Anxiety is to be expected when your cat is dying, your bank account is empty, your credit card won’t work, and your debit card has been stolen.

But one of the worst things about anxiety is how it makes you feel bad for being anxious. Why should you feel so bad when other people could handle this better, perhaps in stride?

When you feel bad about feeling anxious, you don’t want to let people know that you’re experiencing anxiety. By the time I’ve made it to sadness, I’ve found myself so overcome by anxiety that I cannot hide it, even if I want to. If you see it, I’ve been struggling for a while and I didn’t want to or couldn’t reach out. It comes out because if it doesn’t, it feels like I will burst. Keeping it inside prevents me from eating, sleepy, and certainly thinking clearly.

Anxiety is not helped by those who tell you to relax or repeat platitudes like “It will all be okay,” especially when the issues are guaranteed to have a negative ending. Anxiety eases with time, with medication, with meditation, with a good sleep, with the resolution or lessening of those problems. And while just getting it out doesn’t necessary decrease anxiety, it’s easier to bear the load with a few shoulders to help.

Three weeks ago, I took Phantom into the vet because he was sick. I received a surprising diagnosis, one that was fatal and one that, fortunately, has been somewhat reduced. He may not longer be on death’s door, but he’s still sick. I still have to administer medicine. And while I don’t have to watch his every move because this might be ‘it,’ the moment that I need to humanely end his life, it’s hard not to.

I spent that first week basically unable to do anything — eat, sleep, work, breathe. The anxiety and stress was oppressively heavy. Anyone who talked to or saw me was witness to that. And while things are no longer as dire, it feels as though the wool has been lifted from my eyes. There’s something wrong in my life that I am now painfully aware of, and I can’t forget it. Even if I could, I need to be alert for Phantom’s sake.

Of course, anyone might be a little stressed over this, but I’m already anxious to begin with. And that something so small as a the health of a pet has me spiraling so far downward makes me feel incompetent, like a failure. Every time Phantom refuses a pill, I wonder why I can’t be better at such a small thing.

I’ve fill a lot of the last three weeks with TV shows, just some noise to keep on in the background. There’s not much else to do when the weather has me trapped inside.

But I can’t use this time productively. It takes me longer to get around to do chores or run errands. My Christmas tree is still up. Laundry has piled up on my bed. All of my blogs are forgotten. I’ve forgotten about games that need to be finished. I’ve managed to finish a single book, but many others have languished. My kitchen table has accumulated an embarrassing amount of mail, trash, and empty shopping bags.

I could invite people over to while away some of the time — if only I wasn’t so ashamed of the state of my apartment.

And maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe it’s in my head. Maybe it’s just my anxiety making me feel like everything is worse than it is, you know, the way it does. But that’s one more thing to feel bad about.

Perhaps in time I’ll forget about some of the things that are bothering me just like I occasionally forget about my own mortality and impending death. The feeling of despair will only wash over me and settle in the pit of my stomach briefly before I am able to push it back, to deny that it bothers me.

Or maybe I need a better coping mechanism to deal with life.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about when and how behaviors become unhealthy, and the big distinction (at least, for me) is whether it’s used to escape or enhance your life.

Many things can be used to celebrate a life you love, but at different times or in different quantities can be used to escape to the point where you’re barely living. I’ve don’t this with any number of activities:

• Walking
• Video games
• Eating
• Sleeping
• Browsing the ‘net
• Reading
• TV and movies
• Drinking alcohol
• Using social medi

I mean, the list basically includes any type of media that I can become so wrapped up in that I can avoid what’s happening in my real life. I’ve spent more than eight hours at a time in front of my computer because logging on to whatever MMO I’m playing at the time is easier than coping with my boredom or loneliness.

And while I haven’t run into issues with smoking pot (or other drugs) or sex myself, I can easily see how these things can overflow until you’re drowning.

So many things can go from useful or healthy to unhealthy so quickly, and we’re in an era when so many things are gamified and designed to make us check compulsively to get those quick shots of dopamine (damn you, Facebook!).

Perhaps this line of thinking isn’t new to you — or anything. But I’ve visualized it in such a clear way that I want to share if only to pay myself on the back a bit.

These types of thoughts are those that I once commonly wrote about on here (I used only existing tags_ and I almost started this as a Facebook post. It would certainly garner more attention, but there’s something freeing about writing in my blog instead. It feels like I have to work less at impressing the reader and can perhaps be more exploratory and vulnerable, which is often a boon.

Here’s to more clarity in 2019.

• Things that startled me: four bunnies, a stationary manger display, a (regular) bush, the big borker down the street not barking at me.
• But I startled the same rabbit two nights in a row.
• It’s so nice out this morning.* I don’t even need to wear a jacket.
• My calves have been so sore lately.
• I wonder where that ambulance is going. I hope my apartment isn’t burning when I get home.
• That cashier is nice.
• Where are all the Pokemon I want to catch? And why are walking events when the weather is terrible?

None of these are terribly interesting thoughts, I’m afraid.. unless you’re entertained by the bunnies who scare me.

*Relatively speaking. It’s 40 degrees and rather humid.

There is a magical place you’ve probably never heard of. Even if you had, you couldn’t go searching for it if you wanted to. I am talking about none other than the cat palace, a beautiful, fantastic place where your cats can sneak off to hobnob with other felines and to make purchases (with money they’ve stolen from you, of course!).

The cat palace is never in the same place twice, so you won’t find it try as you might. Even if you could, the doors for customers are too small for humans to enter. In fact, humans are only allowed to enter through the back, where they are required to set up stock for no more than an hour a day and disappear from sight before the real customers come in.

The cat palace is stocked with treats and goodies that would make any kitty’s eyes light up. From tuna snacks, to feather toys, to cherry-scented sherbet shampoo that’s specially formulated for their fur, the cat palace offers it all. The cats sneak away from home through holes in the walls and open doors, stealthily make their way to the cat palace and enter after meowing a secret code that periodically changes. Once their orders are complete, cats can return home with their treasures, this time laden down with goodies in tiny packs that they wear on their bodies.

Although it might seem tricky for both staff and customers to trade money for goods, especially when you consider that neither has opposable thumbs, the cats make it work every day. Besides, these fuzzy creatures are all about the some. Many cats head to the cat palace simply to socialize with friends and strangers. From housecat to alleycat to wildcat, all cats are welcomed at the cat palace.

And once they’re there, they can enjoy images of birds and rodents on screens, play with toys, climb trees and jump between shelves, and relax by giving each other massages or baths. The cat palace is at once a spa, a store, and an amusement park. No human institution is as fun or crucial to happiness for humans as the cat palace is to cats. Even if something like this existed, it would fail to achieve the luxury and harmony exhibited by the cat palace.

So the next time you’re not sure where Simon or Smokey or Max is, they could be at the cat palace having the time of their lives!