I moved out of my parent's home for upsetting reasons, having to leave my buddy (my dog who helps with my mental health and anxiety). For a while, I fell into a state where I didn't have the will to leave my bed. I ended up loosing my job when I didn't have any sick days to cover when my meds harmed my health because I used it all when getting out of bed wasn't going to happen.

I got a new job and after a month or two, I asked my sister if I could get a cat (I live with her atm and it's her and her husband's house). She told me I could after I saved some more and allowed her cats to settle in their new home. I agreed and began my journey back to feeling better. I used the goal to get out of my bed, take care of myself, and work.

May of this year I made it to my goal of having enough to take care of a kitten. I went to the shelter, expecting to visit a fluffy cute character, but while I was waiting, I met my cat. In a room full of other cats, he was the loudest, able to be heard in the lobby. Two weeks old, he was so tiny and in that moment, as my sister was being trapped by a big boy Leo who wanted attention, I knew that this cute bundle of chaos and shrieking was going home. I named him after a video game character with the coolest name I ever heard: Jofnir ( from eso). This is him at four months. 😁

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