whenever i get stressed, whenever i get scared, there is the overwhelming compulsion to run. to run home. back to my family, back to my home. i have had people tell me over and over that the people i grew up with are not a "family" that a place where i could be abused like that is not a "home" but it is home to me.

bad things have happened there. i can't deny that. but at least i know what i'm up against. i don't have to stare at this black hole of my own life and swallow the bile and the fear. there are known dangers. i dealt with them in the past, i can deal with them now.

very wise friends of mine tell me that i need to make my own "family", that i have so many people online who care very much about me. and i know that is true. i have p, the true mother of my heart. d who opened her door to me and gave me a home. s who is my online grandpa. but still they are not really family. not in the traditional sense, and not in my mind. people who i love very much, yes, but how can you consider people you have never met in real life "family"?

and i have already learned that in this online world, people come and go. names appear and disappear from my inbox. people get busy. move on. forget. i seem to not be able to let go. i am afraid of being let go of. i am terrified of being dropped yet again.

so i want to run home. to the family who identifies itself as such. to the family who considers me a part of it, if only for the sake of appearances. i want to belong somewhere. i am tired of being a stray.

. . . .

[trouble]

skorch has a new trick. he climbs my back and holds on and attacks the back of my head with his claws and his teeth. and of course, like a fool, i complain and whine and say "owwww skorch that hurts" and don't make him stop. this kitty walks all over me. literally. i am a slave already, and we've only been together for a week.

i woke up sometime this morning lying on my back with him curled in a little ball of gray fluff on my chest. i have terrible nightmares, and it was somehow comforting and terrifying both to wake up with him there. i still don't trust him completely, trust his touch completely. it feels silly to say that, but i am extremely distrustful of touch, and even though he is a kitten, it is still touch.


"man i gotta get out of this place"
beth hart

snacks: subway 12" cold cut combo, st. patty's day cupcakes
noise: contact starring jodie foster
paper: a room of one's own, virginia woolfe


terribly adorable pictures of the new baby (now with even more terribly adorable pix!)


[me and sam]

(and thanks to skorch for the cool background)