After my volunteer shift at the animal shelter yesterday I started feeling anxious. My gig involves socializing with cats, which I love ... and yesterday, also gauging my comfort level with the idea of getting a new cat.
Yes, my kitty has only been gone for five days. It's too soon for me, and my poor husband was out of town when CC was euthanized, so he still needs to process the fact that she's really gone. Nonetheless, I want to start thinking having cats in our family once again. The house is just so fucking empty right now.
What I can't tell is whether I'm anxious because I started imagining myself with other cats, or because of the empty house. Every time I hear a noise, I think "Oh, that's CC". Only it's not CC, and it never will be. That's one of the things about grief though; always thinking you see the deceased out of the corner of your eye, or hearing them in the other room, or thinking that they're on the couch or upstairs or wherever.
This experience made me realize that I've never been alone in my own house before. I've always had cats, ever since I moved into my own place at the age of 20. For that matter, I got Piglet and CC at that time. They've never not been here. One or the other was always on my lap, or sitting on the couch with me, or hanging out in the next chair. One or the other was usually talking to me. It's never been this quiet before, and I'm really having a hard time with it. Of course, I could take the Xanax my pdoc prescribed me, but I'm already on so many goddam drugs, and for some reason Xanax scares me.
So until we're ready for another cat, I may just have to live with anxiety.