I killed the plant.
I killed the plant.
But the cat loves me and I love the cat and the cat’s leg is healed and the cat is the bright spot of my world right now. At the moment she’s lying under my arm with her paws on the keyboard near the near the number pad watching me type.
Except for that I’ve been wallowing in self pity for about a month. I still have no energy though I know the antidepressants are starting to work. But I’m not better yet. Dishes and laundry remain undone and I’m reading blogs and napping and smoking nearly two packs of cigarettes a day. And watching Alien vs. Predetor; a new all time low.
I’ve got to rouse myself from this state and get back into action and I don’t seem to have the power to. All I seem to be able to manage is sleeping and eating and smoking and I guess, for right now, that has to be OK.
But I killed the plant.
Tags: energy
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You care and have compassion for others. Self-compassion is the hardest thing for me to practise. Probably for you too.
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The plant is not dead. It has just changed its form and its energy is somewhere else so you hardly could have killed it. Don’t let anyone, including yourself, tell you differently.
I am so excited about your cat. Perhaps she has been sent to lead you out of this state of inertia. Regardless, you are exactly where you are supposed to be. I know you know this. I am just reinforcing that knowing.
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Well, it probably just died, but “I killed the plant” is much funnier. That’s what I think you need to give yourself more credit for, the pleasure you give to others just being your wry and dry self. There’s a great deal to be said for bleakness done with panache.
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Sorry about the plant but so glad about the cat. And damn, I wish I were as good a commenter as Wayward Son.








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