ESA

I finally got an ESA.

Both my psychiatrist and therapist thought it would be a good idea.

I thought it would be a good idea.

Stephen is my everything and, when he's gone so much, I get very lonely. Not that people can help with that - they can't. I'm too afraid of them. And I love cats. So having a cat around could help fix the loneliness. Maybe the responsibility would force me out of bed and get me in the habit of doing things (like taking showers and washing dishes and maybe cooking and cleaning). Who knows? Maybe I'd even get some socialization practice in.

Leading up to the day I got my letter, I was going to Petsmart nearly every day to look at the shelter cats. I'd try to gain connections to them and pet them, but there was a problem. I couldn't really connect to them like I used to. Hardly at all. I felt much less excited and much more apathetic. This had happened before when I visited a friend of mine's foster kittens. I was so excited to see them but, when I got there, I was just...not excited anymore.

Maybe this is what they mean by "losing interest in things you enjoy".

It's not like I had many interests ever. Maybe up to 10, with only three being serious and apparent. Loving and connecting with cats was one of those. I loved cats. I still love them, I feel bad for what they go through, but I can't connect with them anymore.

Anyway, as I was checking out the cats, more and more I'd notice that I just didn't empathically "click" with any of them. It really concerned me, but I just figured I'd find "the one" and we'd click. It didn't happen. In fact, I resolved to get a kitten because I'd concluded that the reason I wasn't finding the right cat was because I needed to start with one as a baby. Maybe I rushed things. When we went to get a cat, Petsmart was in the middle of switching shelters, so they had no cats available. The next closest thing was Animal Ark. I said we'd just check them out. Sure enough, they had three ginger kittens.

They were so cute, obviously, but I was hesitant about the fact that they were orange. For some reason, it really bothered me. I didn't typically gravitate toward orange cats. But our kitten woke up and came right up to the glass and began meowing at us. Stephen liked her, so I thought we'd try out our first orange cat.

After she came home is when I really started breaking down. At first I was bawling because I missed Milo. I felt so incredibly guilty that I had a kitten now. I remembered when Milo was a kitten. I was worried I'd have to give her up too someday. She's an ESA, so I can't be parted with her because of housing, but what if something else happened and I'd have to give her away?

Then I started feeling guilty for all the shelter cats I'd just denied. Here, I got this fresh kitten when I could have easily waited a day to get a cat who has no home, is scared and lonely. Someone else could have gotten this kitten. Why couldn't I just wait a day? Someone (I hope beyond hope) chose Milo over a kitten. How could I not return the favor?

I pushed it to the back of my mind. Someone will give those cats homes, and it's kitten season. Clover could just as easily be homeless.

But then I began to realize that I have to commit to this kitten for the next...maybe 20 years. And I don't have a connection to her. I didn't even know if I liked her. For some reason, her being orange was bothering me, she wasn't Milo, and she wasn't a shelter cat. What am I doing with her? How can I do this when Milo is out there with new owners wondering what he did wrong? A wave of panic overcame me for several hours.

I don't know if I just don't love cats as much as I used to, if I'm shallow enough to dislike orange cats, or if I'm too afraid to connect again because I don't want to have it ripped away from me. I'm trying to get over it. She's a cute kitten. I just worry I've forced myself to make the wrong choice.