Pennsic! Et cetera.
Jul. 21st, 2009 04:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kellan_the_tabbyYes, I'll be at Pennsic.
Yes, I'm bringing the booth.
Yes, I'm also bringing Loiosh.
The jokes began even before Estrella -- as soon as I decided I was bringing him to War with me. Estrella allows just about anything as long as it's on a leash, well-behaved, and not actually livestock, and I knew Loiosh was all of the above (and would miss me like anything). I wasn't sure bringing him to Estrella was the brightest idea but he did fine.
But that's not telling you about the joke. The joke went like this: 'Bring him to Pennsic! Just tell them he's a service animal!'.
Ha ha ha ha yeah. No. I'll admit to temptation, but I don't cheat. I'll bring him anywhere he's allowed, but I won't push it past that. And that was my stance.
At the same time -- over a good chunk of the last year, in fact -- I've been slowly lowering my dosage of my antidepressant. I'd tried, previously, with no luck -- but I was cutting it too quickly; halving it right off the bat, and then sliding right down into uselessness.
Nope, this time I started skipping a pill every Sunday. And then after a month or two, every Sunday and Wednesday. Until now, when I'm on half the dose I was prescribed for a while -- and still doing just fine.
And feeling happy and proud and accomplished about it, too. Not to mention slightly less broke -- it's not inexpensive stuff, without insurance. Nothing is.
At the same time, though, I've been noticing more and more troubles with anxiety. I can pretty easily call this situational, rather than a chemical imbalance -- being near-constantly short of money, running a business that's still in the startup stages, being off-balance and up-in-the-air and really not sure where my life is going.
I could go to the doctor and get another prescription -- if I had the money. And it might work, or it might not. And I'd be dealing with the additional, paired stressors of 'spending more money' and 'not being sure if the meds are working'.
Or I could try to deal with it on my own. Which is what I chose. It's situational -- meds can help, but unless things get far worse, shouldn't be necessary. So I've been doing my deep breathing, my meditation, taking my walks, reading my books.
And I started to notice something.
My breathing would quicken and shallow...my pulse rate would rise...my brain would start to fuzz out...and then I'd get a faceful of purring kitten.
Which would make me sneeze, mind you -- he hops up and pretty much rubs his face all over mine, and purrs frantically, and is a total pest. And I roll my eyes, and pet him, and give him a hug, and I don't have a panic attack.
Ha ha, only serious.
I don't know how he figured it out. I certainly haven't trained him -- not as an anxiety support cat, certainly. But he does it, and he does it well; he's even helped a friend of mine who was edging towards a panic attack.
And I find that I cannot bear the thought of going to Pennsic without him.
So now I'm in the process of getting him registered as an official service animal. The paperwork isn't in yet, and neither is the patch I got to put on his harness (do you have ANY idea how hard it is to find service CAT products? He'll be a 'service dog' until I have time to get something custom done by the looks of things...), but I've read the relevant regulations thoroughly and he does, in fact count.
What's more, I've already cleared him with the Pennsic Disability Coordinator. So Loiosh will be at Pennsic with me this year.
--
This hasn't been an easy thing to write. Even in the circles I move in -- very tolerant, patient folk, with lots of experience with and compassion for mental illness -- it's not something that's easy to talk about. And the whole situation makes me cranky, too -- I just get one problem under control, and *wham* here's another one. Thank you, God! Only not really. :P
But there's the tale of why I'm bringing my cat to Pennsic. I know I'll take shit for it -- it's pretty inevitable. I don't care too much. I do what I need to, to survive.
And anyway, I know Loiosh will have a good time.
Hope to see many of you there!
Yes, I'm bringing the booth.
Yes, I'm also bringing Loiosh.
The jokes began even before Estrella -- as soon as I decided I was bringing him to War with me. Estrella allows just about anything as long as it's on a leash, well-behaved, and not actually livestock, and I knew Loiosh was all of the above (and would miss me like anything). I wasn't sure bringing him to Estrella was the brightest idea but he did fine.
But that's not telling you about the joke. The joke went like this: 'Bring him to Pennsic! Just tell them he's a service animal!'.
Ha ha ha ha yeah. No. I'll admit to temptation, but I don't cheat. I'll bring him anywhere he's allowed, but I won't push it past that. And that was my stance.
At the same time -- over a good chunk of the last year, in fact -- I've been slowly lowering my dosage of my antidepressant. I'd tried, previously, with no luck -- but I was cutting it too quickly; halving it right off the bat, and then sliding right down into uselessness.
Nope, this time I started skipping a pill every Sunday. And then after a month or two, every Sunday and Wednesday. Until now, when I'm on half the dose I was prescribed for a while -- and still doing just fine.
And feeling happy and proud and accomplished about it, too. Not to mention slightly less broke -- it's not inexpensive stuff, without insurance. Nothing is.
At the same time, though, I've been noticing more and more troubles with anxiety. I can pretty easily call this situational, rather than a chemical imbalance -- being near-constantly short of money, running a business that's still in the startup stages, being off-balance and up-in-the-air and really not sure where my life is going.
I could go to the doctor and get another prescription -- if I had the money. And it might work, or it might not. And I'd be dealing with the additional, paired stressors of 'spending more money' and 'not being sure if the meds are working'.
Or I could try to deal with it on my own. Which is what I chose. It's situational -- meds can help, but unless things get far worse, shouldn't be necessary. So I've been doing my deep breathing, my meditation, taking my walks, reading my books.
And I started to notice something.
My breathing would quicken and shallow...my pulse rate would rise...my brain would start to fuzz out...and then I'd get a faceful of purring kitten.
Which would make me sneeze, mind you -- he hops up and pretty much rubs his face all over mine, and purrs frantically, and is a total pest. And I roll my eyes, and pet him, and give him a hug, and I don't have a panic attack.
Ha ha, only serious.
I don't know how he figured it out. I certainly haven't trained him -- not as an anxiety support cat, certainly. But he does it, and he does it well; he's even helped a friend of mine who was edging towards a panic attack.
And I find that I cannot bear the thought of going to Pennsic without him.
So now I'm in the process of getting him registered as an official service animal. The paperwork isn't in yet, and neither is the patch I got to put on his harness (do you have ANY idea how hard it is to find service CAT products? He'll be a 'service dog' until I have time to get something custom done by the looks of things...), but I've read the relevant regulations thoroughly and he does, in fact count.
What's more, I've already cleared him with the Pennsic Disability Coordinator. So Loiosh will be at Pennsic with me this year.
--
This hasn't been an easy thing to write. Even in the circles I move in -- very tolerant, patient folk, with lots of experience with and compassion for mental illness -- it's not something that's easy to talk about. And the whole situation makes me cranky, too -- I just get one problem under control, and *wham* here's another one. Thank you, God! Only not really. :P
But there's the tale of why I'm bringing my cat to Pennsic. I know I'll take shit for it -- it's pretty inevitable. I don't care too much. I do what I need to, to survive.
And anyway, I know Loiosh will have a good time.
Hope to see many of you there!
no subject
Date: 2009-07-21 11:40 pm (UTC)(When I'm depressed, I get 2 cats curled up on the couch with me. Normally their natural hatred for each other prevents them both from being on the same piece of furniture, but when I'm depressed, I always end up with one on my chest and one on my feet)
no subject
Date: 2009-07-21 11:43 pm (UTC)