The Cat That Saved My Life

Anxiety cripples me. Depression keeps a firm grasp on my life. Days blur together. The colourless world embraces me every time I open my eyes. Hopelessness is all I can feel day in and day out.

11:45am. I was never much of a morning person, but this was overkill to avoid the morning. I rolled over with a groan, not wanting to face the day ahead. Each day is filled with the same things, the same colourless, monotoned things.

I made my way to the kitchen, aimlessly opening the fridge door. Everything looks bland and unappetising. Why did we need to eat? Did we need to eat? I pondered how long I could last without food as my stomach started to gurgle. Not long, I conceded as I pulled out a piece of bread.

I couldn’t be bothered to toast it or even put butter on it. I ate the bread plain as I tried to think of what I had to do today. It was midday. Was there any point in doing anything? I’d already wasted half the day; would it matter if I wasted the rest?

The television turned on, and I aimlessly flicked through the channels. Nothing seemed interesting. It all felt the same - lifeless and colourless. Pointless. I settled on a series I’d watched a million times. My comfort show, I called it. Ironically, a comedy. But it was no longer funny. Maybe I’d just watched it too many times or maybe the jokes just no longer appealed to me. But I couldn’t be bothered to search for a different show.

I heard a knock at the door. Frowning, I looked at my watch. 5:30. Where had the last few hours gone? If I wanted to be productive, it wouldn’t happen now. But I knew productivity never happened to me anymore.

I shuffled to the door, wincing as my smiling mother greeted me. If she noticed the unwashed hair and stained pyjamas, she did a good job hiding it. I’d be disgusted in me too. Such a disappointment as a child. Useless.

She chatted about something. I wasn’t really paying attention. My anxiety peaked as she mentioned my sister and the things she was accomplishing. I knew I was worthless; there was no point confirming this more.

She stared at me silently, and I realised she must have asked a question. I tried to speak, but no words emerged - I’d been caught. I wasn’t listening, and she knew it.

She rolled her eyes and picked up a crate next to her. I didn’t notice it before - was I really that blind? Too self-centred to see she had something on her? I wasn’t sure what was happening until the tiny kitten was plonked in my arms. A pure white cat meowed and looked up at me, waiting for something.

“It’s for you,” said my mother. “It’s a girl.”

I awkwardly placed the cat on the ground. I tried to argue, tried to give the cat back. But my mother refused and soon left me alone with the cat. I couldn’t even care for myself, and she gave me a cat?

My mother brought some supplies with her. Litter and food - did I need anything else for a cat? What could I do with it? I’d probably neglect it. I couldn’t take on this kind of responsibility.

The cat meowed and circled the bag of food. I glanced at my watch. 6pm. Maybe she was hungry?

I gave her some food and watched in fascination as she gobbled it up. I’d never seen something so engrossed with their food before. I hadn’t felt that kind of happiness with food in a long time.

I grabbed bread out of the fridge, pausing before deciding to add some butter. It had been a long time, but I felt I needed something more while this cat happily ate her food.

I returned to the television, shocked when the cat followed me. I watched her awkwardly clamber up the sofa and settle herself beside me, purring loudly as my hand gently rested on her tiny body.

When it started to get late, I considered going to bed early. I didn’t know if cats slept like we did, but maybe she’d prefer the bed to the couch. I know I did.

She followed me to my room and happily curled up on my other pillow. I was glad I had opted for a double bed; she’d have space. She looked up at me, and I felt a tiny flicker of joy for the little cat. Her big blue eyes stood out in my colourless world.

Maybe I could see colour again, find joy again. Perhaps this little kitten could help. “Penelope,” I whispered as I gently stroked her head. “That’s your name.”.

I knew I'd found my saviour when she woke me at 6am for breakfast. I was awake in the morning with a purpose for the first time in a long time. I wouldn’t let her down.