(I never do this, but: reblogged from thejackieblog.com)
csak, mert beszarás és mindenkinek tudnia kellene, milyen is macskával élni. igen, néha rémisztő.
I’m Living with a Terrorist
My cat is making me doubt my ability to be a good mother.
I sometimes think about killing my cat.
I’m having a really hard time dealing with my cat’s dependency issues.
She used to just be a very loving cat who would rub up against me to see if I was interested in her affection. If she deemed it appropriate, she would launch into an all out love fest all over my lap, legs, feet – wherever she could maneuver herself for my attention.
But now she’s a monster.
From the moment I wake up, she’s there – staring at me. She follows me into the bathroom, follows me from the shower to my bedroom, and from the bedroom to the door. I used to think she did it because she was hungry, but every time I rush to feed her in the morning, there is still evidence of her meal from the evening prior.
Sometimes I get so creeped out by her watching me get dressed that I put her outside the door until I’m finished.
When I come home after work she goes into full attack mode, tripping me while I walk, lurking over me while I cook, and sometimes ramming her head into my hand so forcefully that I have actually spilled things on myself. She’s insatiable.
I thought her new attitude was a symptom of loneliness. I thought that perhaps I wasn’t spending enough time with her. But regardless of whether I pet her for an hour straight and follow it up with a rousing game of “chase the laser” or I ignore her all day, she cannot be tamed. I’ve fed her treats, massaged her, pet her nicely, pet her harshly, picked her up, taken her for a walk (yes, I took my cat for a walk), and let her lie on me even when it’s incredibly inconvenient. None of it helps. If I want to read something, I have to do it standing up or my book will get forcefully nudged out of my hand, and she will spend her time putting her body between me and the page I am reading.
She has been known to lie down directly on top of something I have in my hand as I read it.
At night I’m so terrorized by her that even when I’m not yet asleep, I slow down my breathing and fake it so she moves on.
I’m living in fear and I can’t take it anymore. It’s a wonder I can even do a blog a day without her putting her litter-laden paws all over the keys and foiling my attempts.
Recently, I’ve been feeling slightly maternal. I don’t know if it’s the soon-to-be-aunt in me or the ticking of my own biological clock, but babies are starting to kind of grow on me. But now I’ve got this insatiable cat and I’m starting to feel like my entire life revolves around her and her ridiculous requests and I just can’t do this.
I can’t be a mom if my cat is introducing me to what I can expect from motherhood. I fear I may become violent.
thank you for putting it into words.