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InkTober 2017: Day 16 – Fat

I have allergies. Thankfully, they are not the severe kinds that make people have to walk around with an EpiPen® (epinephrine injection). Some of my allergies are seasonal and haven’t required much attention by way of taking antihistamines or other remedies for many years. Others are along the lines of sensitivities to foods (e.g. dairy) and the environmental kinds that one can’t escape, such as dust and mold. I also have a couple of odd ones that don’t merit discussion because they are so out in left field. However, there is one allergy that fits perfectly with the image that popped into my mind for the Day 16 prompt: Fat.

I’m allergic to cats. The hairier and the more they shed the worse I react to them. I may sneeze, cough, become itchy from the top of my head down the length of my body, and I have, on occasion, gotten red very-raised hives on different parts of my skin. All of these symptoms can arise without direct contact with a cat. Luckily, taking antihistamines – usually ahead of visiting the home of people who have cats – is helpful with coping. Luckier still, although I’m asthmatic, I can’t recall ever experiencing severe issues with my breathing because of my proximity to cats.

The incredible thing about being allergic to cats is that they ALWAYS seem to know who is. It’s as if they have an internal radar that helps them to hone in on people who are allergic to them. In my case, I’ve had a broad range of experiences that confirm this theory. First, there’s what comes across as a simple friendly behaviour cats engage in to say hello to the new person in the room: purring and rubbing themselves against, around, and through your legs with their entire bodies starting with the tip of their whiskers to the end of their tails. I’ve been told this is just their way of letting you know you’re liked, but I suspect it’s a way of collecting intelligence then marking you for further action(s).

Those further actions may include but may not be limited to sniffing parts of your body, usually exposed parts like feet and hands. There are the frequent strolls-by that involve more, sometimes extended, contact between their bodies and the bodies of the allergy-inflicted. The main goal of this and other contacts being maximizing the transfer of their allergy aggravating hair and dander. However, for me the ultimate action that cats take against the allergy-inflicted is the “I’m-going-to-make-your-body-my-bed-by-stomping-all-over-you-until-you’re-as-soft-as-I-can-make-you” dance.

What this entails is a cat, either stealthy or in one pouncing motion, finding its way to your lap. The most memorable of these stompings came under the feet of a rather large, hairy, old, fat, orange cat. This cat landed on my lap then unceremoniously raised its hind end and tail and started moving in a tight circle on my lap. Each turn caused more hair to fall off its body to my clothes, yet all I could do was sit there until it found the exact position in which it wished to plant itself to take a nap. The length of that nap seemed eternal and I can still picture that fat mound of orange hair rising and falling as it breathed in and out.

When the cat had slept satisfactorily, it slowly stretched its body then lowered itself to the floor and walked away without the slightest hint of a thank you or an apology for lowering my allergic defenses. This action and others like it is why I believe that cats can sense when someone is allergic to them, and no one can ever convince me otherwise.

 

InkTober 2017: Day 15 – Mysterious

One of my favourite things to do when I was a teenager was ride the subway in my city from one end to the next, for hours, while writing. I would sit on a seat that gave me a wide vantage point to watch people as they entered and exited the subway car in which I rode. Watching people’s movements inspired my poetry and prose writing. Trying to see beyond the clothes and blank expressions, they wore, made my mind work to create personas or circumstances I felt suited each man, woman, or child as they moved briefly toward me then permanently away from me out the train’s sliding doors.

On one occasion, I wrote a short poem about a man whose presence caught my attention. He was tall and he stood in the doorway of the train’s car with one shoulder leaning against the Plexiglas-enclosed entryway. However, I couldn’t read too deeply into him because he wore sunglasses, which prevented me from seeing his eyes and made him more mysterious than he probably was. Not being able to see a person’s eyes always makes it difficult for me to read them and in this case, his sunglasses made it impossible.

As the man continued standing in the doorway, I was unable to hide my interest in him. Although I couldn’t see his eyes I knew he was looking at me. As he stood there, I wrote about him and I wondered if he knew he was my subject. I got my answer when the train arrived at his stop. Before he left the train, he looked directly at me and smiled. I was so taken aback by that sudden unexpected connection that I smiled back. I smiled back not knowing for certain why he smiled at me.

As silly as it may sound: to this day, thinking about that experience unnerves me. Why did that man, whose eyes couldn’t be seen, smile at a teen-aged girl while they rode on the same train?

 

InkTober 2017: Day 14 – Fierce

I had trouble drawing my sketch and writing my thoughts coherently, for this prompt since I read it a couple of days ago. I knew what I wanted to draw to represent the word ‘fierce’ and I knew exactly what I wanted to say. However, I’d never drawn a lion before and, on top of that, I had some writer’s block too. I tried a few times to start the sketch but it wouldn’t take shape the way I wanted it to. I did a lot of erasing and had to sharpen my pencil many times. I wanted to draw a lion that looked like a creature to be feared, instead of a stuffed animal but that’s not an easy thing to do when you’re not an accomplished artist.

Why the words wouldn’t come is a different and very personal matter. What I was trying to truthfully articulate is something I’ve struggled with in my life: putting on a façade to appear tougher than how I feel because I don’t want others to know that their attempts to wound me have landed with painful accuracy. As a woman, I’ve done that repeatedly to push through and past situations, while pushing away the someone(s) who felt they had the right to betray my trust or recklessly harm me. I did it so many times that it became second nature, while showing what I truly feel and how deeply I feel it became gruelling work.

I assume we all like to believe that we are or can be fierce when a situation makes it necessary. I say “necessary” because the human body’s nervous system is not designed to be on constant alert. Being fierce at all times requires a hyper-vigilance that takes a toll on one’s body and mind. We are designed to sense danger, get ourselves to safety, then shut down that alert system so our bodies return to a (relative) state of calm. Moreover, the measures needed for keeping out the bad, mean not allowing enough of the good to find its way through; and it can be exhausting to keep this cycle going.

My fierce demeanor was so well-practiced I could probably teach how-to classes and make a fortune. First, there’s the posture one must take where your back and shoulders are held with such stiffness your body oozes aloofness and an air of I don’t give a f…, which may send a message that feelings – if it’s believed one has any – can’t be accessed or hurt. Then there’s the sharp cutting glance that takes years to master and to an untrained eye may resemble the batting of an eyelash. The sender must make sure the receiver feels the whittling sharpness of the look to their core in an instant. While the accompanying words – their calculated pitch and timing between them – further build the effect of an impenetrable stone structure that towers protectively above one’s physical frame.

Many years ago, I had to look at my life and figure out how well this strategy was working for me. The primary question being: Was my fierce demeanor attracting the people and the experiences I wanted in my life? If it wasn’t, what did I have to change? Although, I didn’t have to overwrite who I was completely, it took years for me to unlearn and untangle myself from these exhausting self-protective practices. Furthermore, the work is ongoing because there is no single action or magic pill that can give you everything you want overnight.