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not to grouse, but she was at it again "why was she the way she was and how could this have happened."
The room kind of still smelled like cat pee, but it was more subtle so she could deal with it. She was still confused at how the lady yesterday was able to shoot 24 cats dead. She understood it was more humane that terrifying them in cages then to get them injected terrified with a pole and someone in gloves and mask. But narcissi couldn't understand the logistics of it. She was new in this group of plant enthusiasts and when she asked, I understand how you could get one perhaps. The lady had explained, "oh it's easy, they rear up at you and confront you and you shoot them in the forehead with a pistol." It felt like you had to be a really good shot and then the other 23 cats would likely scatter into the nether world after the first shot? but her question was drowned in an emerging fire. Literally they were volunteer firefighters and had to be called away.
It was hot and dry in the town, and she was so fucking tired of living in areas where there is drought. fucking rain and rain and rain. come on.
and the Lady confirmed, "oh yeah, if they don't let people touch them, they'd be killed. The shelters are full. they euthanize about 150 cats and kittens a month. it's a terrible problem."
and of course it broke her fucking heart. All the stuff with the innocent creatures who can't understand broke her heart.
like her stuck inner child.
yawn away, but mother fuck if it didn't rear its head again at 53. there were often times Narcissi would be texting him and then think the next morning, "Jesus, there's this four-year-old child in me that adores Leon and wants so badly for him to come back, but just has the tools of a four-year-old - declaring love, being cute, and grabbing onto ankles and not letting go."
and she was reminded of mentallization and heard the term "epistemic loneliness" and was daunted because the only repair was through trusting someone and not having them betray you. It was quite hard to trust someone . quiet.
and as always always always she recalled the root.
the one who loved her - the only one who saw her and talked to her and made her feel safe in the hellhole of the mother and wounded siblings was the father. he would pick her up, ask her what she was drawing, ask her her option, he would tease her, he would tickle her...
and she would learn in one single night.
it was all fake. he had been lying. she wasn't his special girl. she wasn't special. she was trash - to be used.
the castles and castles of constructions she had to build in order to have that make sense and to have it be ok that her mommy would not be able to handle it.
she was still finding mind mines today, and it was only when she trod in the territory of the most beautiful garden in her psyche: romantic intimate love.
and the only way out was to be able to say "no" or "maybe" or "yes" and have it be her thoughts and her wants and not just please someone then be so relieved when you're alone in your room away from all the users. it actually felt like people pulling at her. the pets could trigger it too, but she liked to give them more of a break.
anyhoo, so that was the only way - and it sucked. it couldn't be thought about. it couldn't be imagined. it couldn't be analyzed. She was going to have to try disappointing people and having them stay and learning that ...
well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. baby baby steps. for now, she had to go get some ant poison and yes it hurt her to even kill ants, but this time they were in her car so sorry ants.
the lady that shot cats in the forehead and killed her 10-year pet rooster by sharply pulling his head from his spine and snapping it - she also put cardboard over wasps nests so they could have privacy.
narcissi admired the native plant people greatly.
and the old men who had flirted with her, well it gave her something that scared her so much
slight hope.
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