Post-Partum Depression

I feel like a breast-feeding mother whose baby won't latch.   Gracie, my brand new cat, doesn't love me.   When I went yesterday to pick her up from Columbus, she climbed right into my lap, stared into my eyes, and purred.   She laid on my lap contentedly, lovingly.  I was in love.  Hooked.   But I think the car-ride back to Dayton spooked her.   She mewed the whole time and I felt like I was torturing her.  I tried talked to her.  I tried to touch her.   My singing only made her more upset.  She was obviously terrified.  And soon as I got her home, she dashed under the couch.  Which is where she's been ever since.  I have no idea what to do.   I've laid on my stomach, ass in the air, face butted up against the underside of the couch, whispering like an idiot begging Gracie to come out.   Nothing!  She's barely eaten the fancy feast I've laid out for her, and the universal language of cats, a stick with a feather attached, has even failed to tickle her fancy.  I just feel awful that she's so scared of me.  I've been talking in a low soothing voice but my ability to continue providing a calming environment for her is becoming greatly reduced.  I feel like sobbing.   I want her to love me!   It never occurred to me she wouldn't.   What if she just never likes me? I've wanted a cat my ENTIRE life.   Literally.  I begged my dad for one when I was 5, and I swore to myself as soon as I was old enough and had my own apartment, I would get a cat.  Has my entire dream failed?  She's STILL under the couch.   If I wanted to feed and provide for something that would take me for granted, I would have gotten pregnant instead of rescuing a cat.  Obviously something was missing in my life and I wanted to fill the void.  You know, the way women snatch children out of grocery carts, that's what me getting a cat was meant to prevent.

 But the lack of love coming from my kitty isn't the only thing that's testing my already fragile mental health today.  It's been one of those "Ok Universe, you win,"  kind of days anyway.   I got my new TSX last night, and I was so worried about getting Gracie up to the apartment and comfy that I left the lights on in my car all night and needed to call AAA for a jump this morning. So it's like, okay, you just made yourself responsible for another living thing, and now, you're probably going to get fired and have no way to provide for it.  For someone so bad at change...maybe it was stupid to get a cat within a week of getting a new job, car, and apt....

Ok, not to sound bi-polar but just as I wrote that... Gracie came and sat on my lap!   It's a miracle.   It's a sign.  And I think it's even more likely that we'll get along because she jumped up on my lap during "my big fat gypsy wedding" on tlc which means she likes making fun of gaudy people as I do. YAY!  Maybe she'll love me!