Cait Interrupted

Hi friends,

Alas, where do I even begin…

Monday I was admitted into emergency. Now, in my mind absolutely no real emergency whatsoever. I say this because, for the last two days I was just indifferent. I felt empty, I felt like any feeling I ever felt was gone and that for the remainder of my so-called life I would always feel just this…just…desolate. Cait’s very own wasteland. A place that used to be bumping full of energy and smiles and happy-go-lucky type shit. Now it’s just nothing. An abandoned amusement park, no longer amusing.786e44a15f57dded1b6359cd0e6cfd32

This year has been quite the rollercoaster to say the least and fuck do I ever hate using that metaphor, but it is so true. Up and down, then stalls, then up and down, then some bitch loses her phone because she’s a fucking idiot for trying to take a selfie with a phone……UGH!!!!!!!!!!! This ride isn’t fun anymore.

I called my mom on Monday. I was sad. I often call mom when I am sad. I don’t mean too, and I hate to have her feel helpless because she isn’t here, but there are only few people I feel semi-okay/butnotreally/butitstheclosestIwillgettofeelingcomfortablewithsomeone.

If mom is busy, I call the ex. Now, before you guys go to any conclusions let me explain something to you. My ex and I have been broken up for two years now. In the beginning I would do my best not to call him in these moments, simply because I didn’t want him to feel used. I didn’t want him to feel like I only called him because for 8 years we were together and it was routine, it was comfort. However, he knows me. He knows I’m incredibly stubborn, he knows I hate feet, he knows the scars on my body (inside and out), he knows about my secret obsession with nutcrackers (shhhhh it’s a secret!). He just knows me. He perhaps, is my closest confidant.

On Monday, after being on the phone with my mom, I called the ex. We decided it was time to take me in. Where folks? TO THE LOONY BIN OF COURSE! Kidding! I get I’m crazy, but I am not quite girl interrupted yet. Hospital it is.

On the way to there, I was thinking two things: 1) This isn’t a real emergency? 2) So craving a Happy Meal…

We get there and it isn’t busy one bit. Thank gawd too. I would hate to have someone with a machete in their head or someone birthing a goat have to wait on me just because I am having a sad, sad day.

I was shocked. And I don’t know why I was so shocked, but when I got there everyone was so comforting. The nurses seem to genuinely care about my well being. They didn’t want me to leave, they didn’t want me to feel sadness anymore, they truly wanted to help me. So much in fact they bumped me up before a sick baby. Sorry sick baby, but Cait’s a baby too….

They brought me in to see a psychoanalyst. I forget her name, but she was quite lovely. They also brought in a general physician.I was broken friends. I couldn’t stop feeling sad, I couldn’t stop crying. How did I let it get to this point? ME! Cait the mother fucking great, the toughest cookie in town was crumbling.

I talked to ….lets call her Miss Lovely (psychoanalyst). She truly was lovely. She seemed to have compassion for me, she wanted to understand, she genuinely was listening to all my words and ramblings. She asked me questions, upon questions, but for once I didn’t mind. She asked me about my drug use, I was honest. About my diet, I was honest, about any past or present relationships and in that I tried not to share. I tried not to be honest, but in the end she knew the whole story.

Miss Lovely, then talked to the ex. Since he knows me best, sometimes I think better than I know myself. They both came in a short time later.

I will now be going to an outpatient treatment center. Just to have someone to talk to once 3a51a-depressiontwo8-2in awhile. Someone who can hopefully help me sort out my shit. Someone who is either willing or at least paid to listen to my stories (and I got lots of them stories).

It was funny, on the drive home, the ex turn towards me and… Miss Lovely was so fuck foxing, I should got her number….ugh!!!!! BOYS!!! We had a laughed. He dropped me off, helped cleaned my place a bit, tucked both Bear and I into bed and then it was Tuesday. A new day, still a sad one, but then it’ll be Wednesday, then Thursday, and if it’s true what They say (who ever They are), every day gets better. And I’ve finally taken steps to get better myself.


Straight off the bat I would say: tall, dark and handsome. Aside from that, if he is Batman, then it’s golden, Ponyboy. But okay, for realzies, my ideal man:

  • He will appreciate who I am as a person.
  • He will not try to change me. Sorry I may be a woman, but I am no lady.
  • Be funny.
  • Not take life too seriously.
  • He will be able to laugh at himself.
  • Honest.
  • Direct, but not forward.
  • Doesn’t need a lot of money. Hell, doesn’t need any money.
  • Doesn’t flaunt his money if he has it.
  • Doesn’t flaunt period.
  • Allow me to give him the occasional wet willy and noogie.
  • Get along with my feisty feline, Olive.
  • Takes care of his body.
  • He sets goals.
  • Can carry me like a princess. I’m not a princess, but sometimes piggy back doesn’t cut it.
  • Come to the occasional Yoga class with me.
  • He will need to get along with my family. There are a lot of people in my family, so it is a definite invested effort.
  • Wants children one day (Stella, our daughter will be named after my favourite beer. )
  • Appreciates French fries as much as I do.
  • Enjoys going for a walk.
  • Interests in music.
  • Go ice skating with me on my birthday.
  • Doesn’t hold me back.
  • Pushes me.
  • Makes me happy.
  • Trumps my fart.
  • Come to the golf range with me.
  • Teach me card games.
  • Can go on road trips with me and hold my coffee when I drive.
  • Confident, not cocky.
  • Can cook.
  • Doesn’t need a wife. Just a partner a crime.
  • Give great foot massages.
  • Likes The Mighty Boosh.
  • Will take me to The Nutcracker ballet every December.
  • Lets me sleep on the right side of the bed.
  • Doesn’t snore.
  • Eats his vegetables.
  • Could lie on the beach with me all day, every day.
  • Doesn’t smoke.
  • Drinks in moderation.
  • Someone who is social.
  • Will be a good father one day.
  • Someone who is in no rush.
  • Enjoys a good read.
  • Someone who will always put the toilet paper roll on the holder.
  • Someone who makes me happy, just because.