ease up you're killing me
I hit the breaking point last night when it comes to the kittens. I was trying to sleep, and they were making so much noise, and I couldn't sleep and I felt like my room wasn't mine anymore because they were always in it and I have to keep the door closed in order to let them run around and THEY ALWAYS WANT TO RUN AROUND. I felt trapped and couldn't deal anymore and had something of a panic attack.
I felt much better once I left my room, so I decided to sleep out on the couch with Hypatia. I slept extra-well, although that might have something to do with the half of a Xanax I took. This morning I felt much better and more able to deal with the kittens and their demands. They seem to be sleeping/relaxing a little more now that they're growing up, although they still need a lot of running-around time in order to really calm down.
It's hard because I've been trying to meditate--a preventive measure for my anxiety--but it's hard to feel like my room is really a private, quiet space to meditate when there are kittens in it. I could try meditating in the living room I suppose, but that doesn't exactly feel private either. I think I'll be able to relax better once the kittens are gone. This was something I didn't entirely foresee, but it's not an impossible challenge and it doesn't mean I'm a bad foster mom. I just need to be a little more aware of my own need for space, and make sure I get enough of it before the kittens start getting on my last nerve.
And as much as I was thinking I'll be relieved when I can have the room to myself again, I stopped by the Humane Society today to pick up more food for them, and there was a little black kitty in a carrier all by herself and she looked so scared and sad, and I my first instinct was to be like "I will take you home and take care of you, poor kitty!" That's why I'm doing this in the first place--because I can't see an animal in need and not want to do something about it. I think after Ramona and Oliver are gone I'll want a few weeks to recuperate for sure, but maybe after that I will feel grounded enough to take in another kitty.
I get extremely anxious when I feel like I've trapped myself into a course of action. Like when I was with one of my ex-boyfriends and I felt like it was impossible to get out of the relationship because I had SAID I loved him and wanted to make it work, so how could I then go back and say the opposite? Or when I was in school, I had told everybody I was going to school and the professors expected me to do the work, and how could I possibly disappoint everybody? So last night I was like "What if I can't do this, what if I'm just not cut out to be a foster mom, but I've already made the commitment, and I can't just say to the Humane Society that I have anxiety problems, because they'll look at me all disappointed and won't understand, and *hyperventilate, etc*." But then I said to myself, you CAN always quit, you never HAVE to do anything, you're allowed to change your mind, and you don't have to justify your reasons to anyone. And today I feel more confident that I can do it.
That's such a terrifying, free-fall feeling, though. Sometimes people ask me why I'm so cautious (usually in the form of "you're so selfish" or "you never take risks"), and that's why. I have trouble making commitments to definitely do something, because I need to be able to have an escape if things get to be too much for me.
And I feel so ashamed when they do.
I felt much better once I left my room, so I decided to sleep out on the couch with Hypatia. I slept extra-well, although that might have something to do with the half of a Xanax I took. This morning I felt much better and more able to deal with the kittens and their demands. They seem to be sleeping/relaxing a little more now that they're growing up, although they still need a lot of running-around time in order to really calm down.
It's hard because I've been trying to meditate--a preventive measure for my anxiety--but it's hard to feel like my room is really a private, quiet space to meditate when there are kittens in it. I could try meditating in the living room I suppose, but that doesn't exactly feel private either. I think I'll be able to relax better once the kittens are gone. This was something I didn't entirely foresee, but it's not an impossible challenge and it doesn't mean I'm a bad foster mom. I just need to be a little more aware of my own need for space, and make sure I get enough of it before the kittens start getting on my last nerve.
And as much as I was thinking I'll be relieved when I can have the room to myself again, I stopped by the Humane Society today to pick up more food for them, and there was a little black kitty in a carrier all by herself and she looked so scared and sad, and I my first instinct was to be like "I will take you home and take care of you, poor kitty!" That's why I'm doing this in the first place--because I can't see an animal in need and not want to do something about it. I think after Ramona and Oliver are gone I'll want a few weeks to recuperate for sure, but maybe after that I will feel grounded enough to take in another kitty.
I get extremely anxious when I feel like I've trapped myself into a course of action. Like when I was with one of my ex-boyfriends and I felt like it was impossible to get out of the relationship because I had SAID I loved him and wanted to make it work, so how could I then go back and say the opposite? Or when I was in school, I had told everybody I was going to school and the professors expected me to do the work, and how could I possibly disappoint everybody? So last night I was like "What if I can't do this, what if I'm just not cut out to be a foster mom, but I've already made the commitment, and I can't just say to the Humane Society that I have anxiety problems, because they'll look at me all disappointed and won't understand, and *hyperventilate, etc*." But then I said to myself, you CAN always quit, you never HAVE to do anything, you're allowed to change your mind, and you don't have to justify your reasons to anyone. And today I feel more confident that I can do it.
That's such a terrifying, free-fall feeling, though. Sometimes people ask me why I'm so cautious (usually in the form of "you're so selfish" or "you never take risks"), and that's why. I have trouble making commitments to definitely do something, because I need to be able to have an escape if things get to be too much for me.
And I feel so ashamed when they do.