As I was sitting here, trying to decide what to write about today, Ginny cat “helped” by running across the keyboard. And you know what, she is right. I mean sure, she just wrote gibberish, but she didn’t hesitate to put paws to the keyboard so that she could find out what comes out. Either that or I’ve been quarantined too long and am looking for writing tips from a cat.
And it may seem silly, but this is the second paragraph I’ve gotten out of the cat, and I have no signs of slowing down. Honestly, she would be the best co-worker if she would just stop shoving her butt in my face and knocking things off my desk.
All joking aside, sometimes just putting pen to paper, or keys to word processor in this case, is exactly what you need. Or at least it is what I need. Because I know that my anxiety makes me second-guess every word, sometimes causing so much hesitation that I find myself paralyzed, unwilling to move forward for fear of fucking up and being judged for it. But who cares? Who hasn’t fucked up once in a while?
And my inspiration, she just knocked a stack of books off the desk. You think she cares? Nope, she just made more space for her nap. Sure, we might spray her with water if she does something she isn’t supposed to, but she just keeps on being her own merry self. She doesn’t hesitate, she exhibits no restraint, and in that aspect, she absolutely is an excellent inspiration, as is Lin-Manuel Miranda for those of you who picked up on the Hamilton reference.
Because battling mental illness is an up and down battle. But you only move forward when you refuse to let your mental illness hold you back. You are capable of so much more than your anxiety or depression might let you believe. And so am I. And I should get to it … you know, right after I pick up all the things the darn cat knocked down.