I'd rather not say...

I don't want this blog to end up being a place where I go to vent about all the things that are bothering me. I do, however, want this blog to be honest. So while I'd like to be upbeat and positive all the time, I feel obligated to also share with you all the bad things that happen in my life for the sake of honesty. However, I want to do this in a way that is constructive and documentative, not rant~y.

This, in essence is why I haven't written in awhile. I wanted to wait until I could talk about this bad thing that has happened in a way that was at least mildly objective. I wanted to make sure I could write this without being unnecessarily cruel or bashing.

Here's what happened:

Last week, I came home from work to find that my husband had been rather a good boy. He had done dishes, straightened up the house a bit, and let my cats out. We keep the cats in a bathroom when we aren't home because they are still in their teenage rebellious destruction phase and I often ask him to let them out when I'm not home and he is so that they'll get the optimum amount of time out and about but he usually doesn't because he doesn't like them and doesn't want to deal with them, but that day he had!

Anyway, I was happy he'd been a nice boy that day and I went to go take a shower in a nice skippy mood. While I was in there, however, I suddenly heard the rather unsettling sound of a cat screaming. I went running out of the shower dripping wet without hesitation and ran into the living room to find my husband just coming out of the cats' bathroom. I confronted him in a very upset manner asking him what had happened to my cat. He told me it had been misbehaving so he had disciplined it but the cat was fine and I shouldn't worry.

So, trusting him, I went back and finished up my shower. A little later when I was finished with that, I went to check on my cats and found that my female cat was trapped in the tub and couldn't get out. Turned out my husband's "disciplining" involved hurling my cat across the bathroom into the wall of the shower. This had, it turned out, actually hurt my cat in a way that had made her leg completely unusable.

Now, cats for me are like cows for the Hindus. You DON'T FUCK WITH THEM. I was so upset I couldn't even speak enough to explain to him how upset I was.  I honestly would have been less upset if he'd been beating ME. I was just curled on the floor sobbing watching her drag her leg behind her and trying to think of how I was gonna find the money to pay for the vet to fix her if it turned out her leg was broken or torn.

It turned out that she's at least mostly okay. She didn't mind having her leg touched and moved around which kinda gave the idea that it wasn't hurt too terribly bad. Then, today she's started walking on it a little bit....limping really but still.

But the main thing that made this event so bad is the fact that I was sooooo mad I wasn't sure I would be able to recover. I had to go shut myself in my room and listen to some music and try to forget about it to keep myself from either saying something I knew I'd regret later or else going to visit my guy friend Eric...who coincidentally wants to fuck me...badly.

So, anyway, I had a lot of anger and was working really hard to keep it all shut inside so that's why I haven't been on here and....yeah...that's all I've got.

LittleSpastic Out.