Working On Us.

This week, I’m again participating in Beckie’s mental health prompts series Working On Us over at

Beckie’s Mental Mess.Β 

This week’s topic is suicide, which is a very difficult and often triggering topic for so many of us, so please read this post carefully or do not read it, if you feel like it might affect you in any negative way.

I am going to participate in the prompt #1, which consists of the following questions.

  1. Have you ever experienced suicidal thoughts? – Yes. I’ve been experiencing suicidal thoughts and ideations since about the age of 9-10, which is also roughly when I was diagnosed with my first depressive episode by a psychologist. Back then, and throughout my early teenage years, my suicidal thoughts were the strongest.
  2. Have you ever attempted suicide? – No, but I was very close to attempting a few times. There were a few things that were holding me back back then. First of all, I am Christian, so I always felt like I needed to be strong for the sake of that, and that if I’d die by suicide, it wouldn’t necessarily mean things would become better for me. Another thing is that I was always scared of overdosing, which would be in practical terms the easiest way to attempt suicide. I’m scared of that because of emetophobia, I mean the consequences I’d have to face if my attempt would fail, being cleared and all that. Also I’ve heard some awful stories as a kid, of people who overdosed on meds and ended up as pretty much vegetables with very damaged brains. If I am to live in this world, I want to have my brain working at least, as it is my shield and weapon. When my suicidal ideations were particularly severe – that is when I was 10 and recovering from an Achilles tendons surgery – looking back on that time I think that if I was given a chance, I could very likely make an attempt, but I had my both legs in huuuge plasters and was very immobile and relied on others for a lot of things, so, although I had plenty of ideas, fortunately they weren’t that easy to undertake. Besides, so many people say suicide is a sign of weakness. I think you actually have to be a strong person to be determined enough to do it. I don’t consider myself particularly strong.
  3. Were you ever hospitalized for a suicidal attempt and/or ideation? – No. I rarely even talk to people in my surroundings about such things in a serious way, so back then no one actually knew I was suicidal, just that I was depressed, and now things are better in that respect so I wouldn’t need to be hospitalised at this point.
  4. When you were hospitalized, what was your experience like? – N/a.
        1. Do you ever feel suicidal ideation since your release? – As I said, I’ve never been hospitalised for being suicidal, but yes, even though I’m doing better than I did in the past, at least in terms of suicidality, I still do experience suicidal thoughts. They’re usually of a passive kind though, unlike in the past, unless I feel really depressed and overloaded, then sometimes I can still feel really bad active suicidal ideations. But it’s just a mere echo of what it was like for me when I was younger, that was hellish.

 

Advertisements

Working On Us.

It’s week #4 of Working On Us at

Beckie’s Mental Mess

and I’m very happy to participate in this prompts series for the second time. Last week, I was answering the questions for prompt #1, but this time, I found prompt #2 really relatable. It’s a photo prompt, so I couldn’t actually see it, but Beckie described it and the image of a brain inside of a bird cage really spoke to me. I suppose I should include the photo in my post somehow, but since I have no clue how to do it, and am blind, so don’t need to have a clue about pics haha, I’ll just leave it as it is.

I was thinking about that prompt a lot last evening and thought I would make some piece of creative writing but since I don’t feel very creative at the moment it’ll just be a bit of a ramble.

I’ve been fascinated by brain for years, and it’s one of my main interests. But it’s not only that why I found this prompt so relatable. I could say I often feel as if my brain was locked in a bird cage, and unable to get out, just never thought about such a metaphor before. What does it feel like when your brain is locked in a brain cage? For me, among other things, it means difficulty in releasing emotions, there’s no way to get them out, whether you want it or not. Your brain fills up until it’s all full and all the feelings are one big mishmash, so that sometimes you don’t even know what you feel any longer. Things get mixed up, until finally the brain can’t contain anymore, and things start to leak out. But instead of leaking outside in a proper way, instead of being expressed, they spill all over the cage. It’s flooded with stuff that can’t be released otherwise, and the brain is swimming in all the intense feelings. That’s when overload happens, and I start feeling a lot of intense anger that gets turned inwards, so I feel like self-harming. Sometimes, when the flood is really strong, something will spill outside through the grating, but the cage is tall and thick so it’s really hard. The only way for me to get my brain out of that cage is writing. Then, the bird cage opens and it can fly out and feel more free.

Another thing that a bird cage makes me think of in the context of my brain, is the feeling of alienation, or feeling disconnected, or loneliness in the crowd, inadequacy, or however you want to call it. I like being different, and individualistic, and I like being on my own more than around other people most of the time and feel more comfy with it. But when it becomes a bird cage for my brain is when I do need to be with someone, but for whatever reason can’t make a connection with people. Sometimes it’s like you can see other people from there, but there’s no way of communicating effectively. You can only bang on the cage and hope that they will hear you, but even if they will, they usually won’t be able to help you out, or open the cage, or get close enough that you could communicate, or feel the way you feel. Even if they do get to you, you’ve been living in this cage for so long that you can’t even explain to them what it’s like, and what you need, and they won’t understand, because they live out there in the world which is so very different. So after a couple trials, you just sit in the corner of your cage and look out, watching people come and go. Sometimes they’ll glance in your direction in confusion, not understanding why you are the way you are and live in a bird cage, what’s wrong with your brain that you constantly keep it in there. As if it was your choice. Sometimes you might feel desperate, and try to jump over the cage, but that hardly ever ends up well and is risky, you can easily get hurt. Even if you do get out of there in one piece, you quickly realise that you don’t fit in, and lots of consequences come with it. And after so many years of living in a cage your brain just doesn’t know otherwise and has it hard to adjust and be just like any other brain living in the outside world. So after all, you put your brain back into the cage, voluntarily this time, ’cause a familiar enemy is worse than the one you don’t know anything about and don’t know how to deal with.

That’s the way my brain feels sometimes. Well, regularly. Again, writing, for myself or with/to others, is something that helps, to some degree, especially blogging and penpalling is what I’m thinking of.

Also, I think the bird cage analogy works very well in regards to my sleep paralysis experiences too. It feels like my brain and me are locked up in a bird cage with all my dream monsters. I can see the outside world but they don’t see me, and I can’t run away because my dream “friends” are all over me. The only thing I can do is wait for the dream cage to open and flee as soon as possible.

What’s a bird cage of your brain? How does it look like and what does it represent? πŸ™‚

Working On Us – Mental Health Prompt.

Beckie over at

Beckie’s Mental Mess

has a weekly series on her blog called Working On Us – Mental Health Prompt, and now is week #3 of it, and I thought I’d join in! Here’s the prompt for this week and my answers. If you haven’t participated yet, I encourage you to check out her blog and to do so. πŸ™‚

 

Here are a few coping statements, do you agree or disagree?Β  Even if your answer is yes or no, please explain:

  1. This situation of sitting on a fully packed train either makes you feel uncomfortable or unpleasant, but I can accept it? – Yes, I can accept it if it’s just the crowd. It will make me feel a bit uncomfortable and anxious and I simply don’t like crowds too but as long as I don’t feel overwhelmed by other stimuli, am generally doing well and don’t have to interact with those people I will deal with it.
  2. Can I ride out the wave of anxiety, or do I feel like I need professional help now? -I suppose I could benefit from the right professional help, as some things can be very difficult for me to deal with and figure out on my own, I’d been in therapy for many years but had to change therapists a year ago and stopped working with a therapist with whom I worked for many years and whom I really trusted. Since then I had two therapists and didn’t have the best experience with either, I’ve also had some experience before I started to work with that therapist whom I trusted so much and it also wasn’t particularly positive. So I feel a bit conflicted here. Part of me wants to reach out and figure out things and get professional help, but part of me is scared of trying once again and feels very sceptical, and there are other things that complicate it slightly. So I’m trying my best to deal with it on my own, with the help of my family, friends and some medication which I take on an as needed basis most of the time.
        1. Do you practice coping skills? If so, what works best for you? – I do. The coping skill that is most important for me is being around my Russian blue cat Misha, cuddling with him and spending time with him, he really helps me. Listening to music always works for me. Distracting myself with a good book. Good quality sleep if I can get it. Comfort food. Writing is the easiest way for me to express myself, so it helps too. Talking to my Mum or reaching out to friends, I think I’m gradually getting better at it, reaching out for support used to be incredibly difficult for me and still oftentimes is, I’ve always felt pretty uncomfortable reaching out to people or telling them about my problems because everyone already has plenty ofthings going on for themselves so I didn’t want to bother them, and I used to strongly disagree that talking about your problems makes things better and easier as many people say and thought that it can actually make things worse, now I can see it does help sometimes although it’s still a challenge for me to talk to people. Doing something funny that makes me laugh helps too, or listening to sounds that soothe me.

Commitmentof a mother.

Hi guys. πŸ™‚

I’ve been thinking about finally writing some other posts, other than my usual series, and looking forward to doing it, and I planned to do some more writing over the weekend, though, quite predictably, I was never able to publish anything as it was my Mum’s and my brother’s birthday, also I had some rather bad anxiety and quite a lot was going on here. Nevertheless, both my Mum, and one of the recent writing prompts gave me an idea for a post. One of the recent words of the day at Word Of The Day Challenge was commit, and recently me and my Mum talked about commitment and dedication in relation to my grandma. I’d like to write about my Mum, and how I admire her, and thus also generally about mothers and motherhood.

There are lots of things that I admire in my Mum, but the one I would like to focus on now is her commitment.

Her commitment and dedication to motherhood, to us, her children, and to our whole family. I really don’t know where we’d be if not Mum, and I’m not just talking about the fact that she gave birth to my siblings and me, but that she is like an adhesive for our family, and keeps together us and everything in our house and family. I am happy to say that I have a good relationship with my Dad, but it has never been as deep as my connection with Mum. And even if I was ony to say on behalf of myself, I also don’t know where I’d be without my Mum.

Being disabled, I need more help with many things than an average person, sometimes a lot more, and my Mum has always been there for me, ready to help me out with really different things. Even when I was away from home at the boarding school, she always tried ther best to find the time and possibility to visit me or take me home for the weekend while she didn’t really have to as there was a rather big distance between the school and my home. She also tried her best to make my life easier there, and when there was a time I was emotionally abused by some of the staff she was the one to notice it despite the distance between us, and she was the one to make it stop. I’ve heard many very positive comments about my Mum at school, both from the staff and my friends, that I am really lucky to have such a committed and involved Mum. Not that other kids didn’t of course, though such situations also happened sometimes as they always do, that some children came from families where they weren’t loved, but because she did so much more than she had to, and her involvement was very visible. I also have mental health difficulties, since years but that both me and some of my family became more aware of only in recent years, and while my Mum doesn’t always understand it, she’s still there for me, if not in any other way than at least happy to help me practically. She’d been helping me to get to therapy, picking my prescriptions, she is my “spokesperson” in all sorts of new or difficult situations when I feel anxious or whenever I’m just not fully able to stand for myself, and I appreciate help hugely. She’s done so many big and little things for me that I probably wouldn’t be able to acknowledge all of them in a single post even if I dedicated it only for such purpose. πŸ˜€

My Mum is definitely a type of altruist who gets easily engaged in what she does and is very responsible and caring, that’s her nature, but sometimes I wonder whether all those commitments she has made over the years since she’s become a wife and a mother, whether they sometimes don’t make her feel unfulfilled in other areas, like her professional career for example, or her social life that would extend beyond her family.

My parents got married when she was 22. Mum was learning to be a beautician and after that tried studying pedagogy but didn’t really have a heart for it and didn’t feel motivated so quit it and then, two years after their wedding, they had me. They had to go a long way until they realised that I’m blind, it wasn’t like that I was born and they were told that, my blindness was congenital but well doctors just didn’t notice it and left my parents to figure it out on their own, and as it has turned out there were some other things we had to figure out blindly, pun intended, even much later on, but that’s another thing actually. Anyway, when Mum finally did figure out that I’m blind, soon after Olek arrived so with two little kids and one disabled she didn’t even think about looking for a job, despite at those very beginnings the financial situation in our family was really not the best, and by the way it’s also partly thanks to Mum that now Dad has the job he has and that our situation is much better nowadays. But Mum, even when I went to the boarding school at the age of 5, still was a full time Mum and still is, even though both me and Olek are adults and Zofijka can mostly take care of herself during the day, and so can I for the most part. And we really appreciate her for that, but as I said, I wonder whether she doesn’t feel a little disappointed with her life sometimes, having so many commitments, many of which she really didn’t have much choice about.

They say though that you usually copy your parents in your life choices. ANd that would be true for my Mum, because the thing was very similar with my grandma.

She is a very intelligent, cultured lady, had great ambitions as a young woman, got degrees in such diverse fields as food technology and theology, but she is also a very gentle, sensitive, idealistic and actually naive person, believing that everyone is like her and has the same values. And during her food technology studies met my grandad – also a very intelligent, cultured, strong, manly, fiendishly ambitious and versatile man. – They were madly in love with each other like most couples are at the beginning, the thing was that each of them had their own dreams that were quite different from each other’s, and my grandad was incredibly stubborn and domineering, to the point that in our current standards I suppose we could call it abusive. His dream has always been farming, because of his huge interest in agriculture, so it was clear to him that his wife will have to adjust and live in the sh*thole and dedicate herself to him and breeding hens to help him grow his business.

I love my grandad, have had a pretty close relationship with him, he has always stood for me when I most needed it, even when no one else did, and I always feel very safe with him and like we have a strangely deep connection and understanding for each other, and overall he’s one of the people I admire most in my life, particularly for how comprehensively skilled he is, but although he has mellowed a whole lot in his old age, I feel really bad about him being so bossy and tyrannical to my grandma. He wouldn’t let her go anywhere on her own, he decided what she should do or not do, with whom she can meet, he forbade her to drive anywhere, have her own work or money or any personal life that he wouldn’t be able to fully control. I guess even if she was assertive she wouldn’t be able to resist this and stand for herself, but she wasn’t, at all. He even didn’t let her to go to church on her own, only when it suited him and he would be able to drop her there, which was a big pain for her because my grandma has always been a very devout Christian. Grandad was brought up in a Christian family too, but it was never a priority for them and I guess he was too proud to be able to live through Christian faith where you have to be humble and rely on God rather than on yourself. So he wasn’t really keen on that which was also a big problem for grandma. As the children arrived her life was focused only around the household/farm, selling eggs with grandad and mothering the four kids. Later on grandad started drinking too much alcohol and has once tried to commit suicide, and while it’s no longer a problem and he doesn’t drink at all, it used to be something that grandma really struggled with and couldn’t accept, and tried to desperately hide it from children in which she succeeded as my Mum only learned about his alcoholism when she was an adult. At some point as I told you grandma got a degree from theology and wanted to work as a religion teacher or something like that but then one of my aunts was born and there were quite awful complications and she was a very vulnerable and sickly baby even though now thankfully she’s thriving and perfectly fine.

Now my grandparents’ relationship is less stormy, as I said my grandad has mellowed a lot both to his wife and to his children and all his grandchildren love him dearly, though they’re certainly not madly in love with each other and grandma is still suffering because of grandad’s cynical/haughty approach regarding faith and that he treats her like she’s very inferior to him, but he does appear to love her in some way and cares for her in that controlling, possessive way as some people do since they can’t otherwise.

She has certainly had her fair share of sufferings, but, most importantly here, has been always so very committed, to her husband, children, and every other responsibility that life has placed on her. In a way I admire her for that, but on the other hand, the extend to which my grandma commits herself is sort of strange to me and I feel like I couldn’t do that without feeling frustrated. just every minute. She doesn’t actually have her own life. Her life evolves around her children and grandchildren, caring for her husband, their work, praying, and now there is a little bit of place for gardening, but that’s it.

My Mum is not like that, my Mum is stronger and more assertive, but still has that extreme ability to dedicate herself to others.

It makes me wonder how marriage and motherhood can really change you and your life so much. When it comes to me, I’m happy to help people, but I really don’t think I could commit myself to someone to such an extend and so unconditionally, it feels rather overwhelming and strangling. I still most probably have a fair bit of ife ahead of me and I know things can change, but so far I’m pretty sure that I don’t want to have children, and even if I would want at some point, I most probably wouldn’t be able to be a good mother for many different reasons. But I really admire my Mum in that, and other mothers who do it like this, silently and without shouting how altruistic they are, and I know that if ever my Mum would need someone to commit themselves to her, I will try my best to do it since I owe her so much. I am proud to say that now I can at least listen to her, and that even though it’s usually her who is the listener for others, I often listen to her when she has problems, and IΒ  am the first person she goes to since I got out of the boarding school if she wants to talk about some stuff that affects her deeply. i am happy she trusts me and that I can give her at least that.

What do you think about commitments in relation to motherhood/family life? What are your experiences with your mum, or with your own parenting if you are a parent? Are you deeply committed to anyone, be it in a relationship or whatever? If you’re not a parent, do you feel like you could dedicate yourself to your children full time or is your professional/social/any other aspect of your life so important to you that you couldn’t give it up? πŸ™‚

Bedecking the house.

Hi people. πŸ™‚

How are your Christmas preparations going? Do you have much left?

Our house has been fully bedeckedΒ  today. Most of our decorations have been prepared earlier already, but today finally our house has a totally Christmassy feel, as we have the Christmas tree in the living room. It’s a pine, and our Christmas tree decorations haven’t changed much since years. There are some small baubles, but other than that, all the decorations are hand-made by my Mum, including red, heart-shaped sort of pillows that we have on Christmas tree every year, and which always cause a lot of excitement in Misha. He would always draw them down from the tree and then play with them all over the living room, losing them everywhere, biting them dragging them around the house. We usually don’t do anything about it now though, because it’s pointless. He’s got a mind of his own obviously and he knows what he wants, and no one will tell him to do the opposite unless they’d manage to convince him that it’s truly better, and since he’s a big thinker, that takes time. And actually, does it matter? I think it doesn’t. He always looks so cute and funny with those pillow hearts in his mouth, and he never seriously damaged them, they’re still perfectly usable, so I don’t think we should bother, he actually isn’t very playful and I personally always try to encourage him to play when he feels like it rather than turn his attention away from it if he’s not doing any damage, and he does it very rarely, it amazes me continuously how gentle he always (well, almost always) is. Only sometimes he loses control over himself and then things can get a bit messy, but not for too long. πŸ˜€

And I should say that Christmas tree in general is of a great, great interest for Misha. Mmmmm this smell, he loves all the natural smells – leaves, feathers, branches, flowers, all the forest smells, he’s maybe not so keen on animals, but plants, ground and such, he loves it all – he adores the smell of the Christmas tree so much that he smells it as much as he can, picks the branches, pats them with his paws in pure adoration and awe. Sometimes when he’s in an even more romantic mood, he climbs up the tree, or tries, as long as someone won’t stop him, and even happily eats the needles when noone sees, which last year contributed to him being very, very sick, at least for Misha’s standards, as he’s normally very healthy.

And so now as we have the Christmas tree put up and decorated, and pierogi in the freezer, Christmas has begun!

 

A description of Misha.

Hey people! πŸ™‚

I thought I would do some a bit more creative writing, I mean apart from my series and other stuff like that, just challenge myself a little bit more, as I hadn’t done anything like this for a while I feel, but didn’t have much of an idea what it could be. So I decided to look at the writing prompt for today at Word Of The Day Challenge, and saw that it is Oblong.

What can you write with this word in mind? What first came to my mind was a short story, with someone who would have oblong face as a main character – I absolutely love describing my characters thoroughly and very imaginatively, from their hair colour to their features to their style – but so far all my short stories are in Polish and somehow I don’t feel ready yet to write any in English, I still read much more in Polish than in English – when it comes to books at least, it’s quite the opposite online πŸ˜€ – so I feel like I should read much more before I start writing short stories in English.

So I started to think about all the oblong things in my room to find some inspiration, as I was determined to write something inspired by this – quite cool actually – word. There are some oblong things in my room, but I didn’t feel like many of them deserved any particular attention and a separate post in honour of them, other than my gem stones, some of them are oblong, and I could write a post about them, which sounded as a lovely idea.

But I thought that after all we live in a highly visual world, so I’d need at least some pictures (at least of those oblong stones, if not all of my stones πŸ˜€ ) to accompany my post. And right now I am not able to get anyone to take them for me, so, maybe another time, my collection is really big so you really have to have a lot of free time and good will to engage in taking photos of all of them.

So finally, as you may already suspect from the title, I decided to make Misha the hero of this post. Again. ‘Cause if you know Misha (or any Russian cat I’d suppose), thinking about something oblong you can’t not think about his little face.

You can see Misha in the logo of my blog, but there are also people who are blind/visually impaired who read my blog, so I thought a description of Misha should give them some more idea about him, and also, as I said, I really enjoy describing people, nature, weather, places, whatever! So why not Misha.

I am not sure how accurately and clearly, and how much of Misha you can see from the photo on my blog, anyway, I hope that those of you who can see it, will also enjoy this description.

Here goes:

Misha is an embodiment of gracefulness, refinement, charm, class and proportion. I feel tempted to say he’s also an embodiment of feline perfection, but saying that would probably show how blinded and doting I am. All Russian blues are like this, I mean classy and fairly proportional, but being able to know Sasha, as well as my aunt’s Russian blue cat – Flocky – I can easily say that Misha is far more classy and sophisticated in his looks than they are. Misha has an air of gentleness, fineness and calmness surrounding him. He’s not always that calm, he’s often very shy and anxious, but unless he’s not in very significant distress, he still emanates with that calm charm. Yet he’s not only gentle. There is also lots of strength in him – as much his body and his spirits. – He is small, agile, slim, thin actually, and shapely, and has well-buil muscles, you wouldn’t call him “muscular”, at least that’s not one of the adjectives you would come up as first, still though, you can easily see how strong and well developed his muscles are. You can also feel his bones, he’s really pretty thin. He is of rather calm and passive nature but when he has a good reason, he can run very fast, jump and climb high, is very swift and light. But also there is carefulness in his movement, as if he really had it in mind to not knock anything over or not destroy anything, it very rarely happens that he makes any mischiefs like that. He is also really composed when playing with other beings most times, and often finds it hard to actually relax and play and be carefree. When he does play though and feels well, sometimes he may lose his control and really show all his strength and agility, as well as the sharpness of his teeth.

Misha’s fur is grey, but it has a bit of a blue glow, that’s why Russian blues are called Russian blues. SOmetimes it looks like silver, for example in the sun, and it seems as if it was shining and shimmering. That makes Misha easier to find in the wild world if he happens to escape. His fur is also double-layered, and very thick, although really short at the same time. Its thickness though, makes it feel like a coat a bit, and makes it really warm and comfy. It’s also incredibly soft, silky, and smooth. That softness and smoothness and thickness once let Zofijka to the conclusion that Misha’s fur is “like a whipped cream when you touch it”. πŸ˜€ You know, in its consistence, sort of.Indeed, I must say that was an incredibly accurate comparison, although rather peculiar, ’cause Misha’s fur truly feels sort of “creamy” when you touch it. Or like a gorgeously soft and fluffy teddybear. We have lots of comparisons for Misha’s fur with Zofijka, as well as all his body parts and other stuff regarding him, we also have a whole lot of nicknames for him, but that’s another thing.

Misha’s head is small and round, and very proportional. It’s a pure pleasure to look at it. It’s just such a little, cute Mishball, soft and fluffy and delicate.

Yet his ears are big. ANd that was a surprise for us, I mean we wouldn’t suppose them to be that big. They’re not like extreme, they’re normal for a Russian blue, but we didn’t know that Russian blues have naturally rather big ears. Sometimes when I have any contact with cats of other breeds or mixed, it feels so shocking to feel how small their ears are in comparison to Misha’s haha. He’s ears are pointed, and very sensitive for touch, his hearing is also very sensitive, though I think it’s true for all cats in a way. He hates loud, particularly sudden noises. But it’s true for his whole little body that it is very sensitive for touch, I guess it’s some sort of nervous reaction, that sometimes he absolutely refuses to be touched, or will immediately lick or scratch himself whenever you touch him in that same place.

Misha’s nose is small and pinkish, another very proportional, little Mishball. πŸ˜€ Zofijka loves it. She likes to play with him as sometimes people play with babies or toddlers – puts her finger on his nose, presses it lightly and says “beeep!”. Wonder if it doesn’t piss him off sometimes, we all treat him like a child, but I guess he’s not that childish hahaha. At the same time though I can understand Zofijka ’cause his nose is really cute.

Misha’s eyes are bright green. Like very very green! People always love them, they are so mesmerising, their look is piercing, some people say that it can actually be unpleasant, or embarrassing in a way. But you can also see lots of intelligence in them, after all Russian blues are really fairly intelligent cats and I came across lots of people visiting us and commenting: “Wow, that cat of yours looks really quite brainy, didn’t you think about training him?” or things like that. And if you’re curious too, no, we didn’t think about training him, not seriously anyway, he seems too nervous and squeamish, and way too individualistic to just be trained and listen to our orders, even if he understands them. And we don’t have him to show him off, at least not in the first place, my Mum actually likes showing off with him sometimes haha, and I do too.

Misha’s whole face, as I said earlier, is oblong, but not too oblong, it’s really proportional. My aunt’s cat has actually much more oblong face and it makes him look a bit unfriendly. Misha’s face is just right. And he likes being stroked under his chin, among other places.

As I already mentioned, he’s very shapely and thin. If you move your hand down his spine you can feel all the bones and vertebrae and all. He has a really nice and soft belly, it’s almost always warm and we like to lightly lie on it, me and Zofijka, and listen to all his gurgles and his heartbeat and occasional purrs – as I told you many times before his purrs aren’t really loud and not as common as in most other cats, and his purrs seem to rather be self-assuring than signalising comfort and happiness. He has a little crease a bit below his belly which apparently is a common thing in sterilised male cats, and my Dad is always laughing at him how it’s moving when he is running or something.

His paws are small and oval, they’re really pretty small and cute and rather thin, but strong, they are lavender,so apparently just as they should be in Russian blues. And their insides are very smooth. Have you ever looked closely or touched a cat’s paws with some attention? Outdoor cats always have rather harsh and rough paws, while Misha’s paws are like a little baby’s. It never stops to amaze me, and I really like to touch them and hold them. And they’re so very proportional and elegant as well.

And Misha’s legs are really quite long, despite those small paws. That’s why he runs so fast I guess. Actually, you could generally describe him as “long”. When Misha lies straight, you can really see how long and slim he is, just an oblong shape with head and tail. I like to look at him lying like that, lying on his back, stretched for all his length.

Oh, and Misha’s tail, I nearly forgot about it. It’s also very soft, and nice to touch, and it’s relatively long. And it has stripes, but almost unnoticeable. THey were more visible apparently when he was younger. Sasha also has striped tail, and it’s apparently visible in most Russian blue kittens, and then is less noticeable.

So, that would be my description of Misha, and I hope you enjoyed it and that it gave you some more idea of what he’s like. πŸ™‚

 

My ideal home.

What would my ideal home look like?

I really like our current house, and I think I’d like to have a lot of things the same way as here.

I’d like my ideal home to be in Wales – it could be in any of my favourite countries but I think as for living long term, I’d choose the UK, and most willingly Wales, particularly north Wales, especially if it could be somewhere in Gwynedd, perhaps in the countryside. I’d like it to be rather bigger than smaller, but not very huge, definitely not bigger than my current house, and this one is rather big. I’d like it to have the “feel”, you know, that you just want to be there, I’d like it to be atmospheric. My Mum is the best interior designer I know so I’d ask her to arrange it for me. It would be a vintage house, with a mix of old, kind of retro things, and new ones. I’d like it to feel cosy. I think I’d make my room in some calmer colours, it could be green as my current bedroom. I wouldn’t have ANYTHING red in my house, but kitchen and living room would be in more warm colours, just to make it more comfortable and homely. I would like my house to be as natural as possible – stone, brick and wood, no artificial stuff or as little as possible. And I think a more natural house would fit the place much better. I’d like it to have a big terrace on which I could go from my room, and from the terrace you could go into the garden, as we can here. Yes, I’d like to have a big garden. If my family would move with me, my Dad wouldn’t be able to exist without a garden, as gardening is his newly discovered passion. That’s all I can say at the moment, but I am sure that if I was building my ideal home, I’d have much more detailed picture of it.