{"id":1961,"date":"2025-10-30T21:38:30","date_gmt":"2025-10-30T21:38:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sabrinablaum.com\/blog\/?p=1961"},"modified":"2025-11-01T23:03:20","modified_gmt":"2025-11-01T23:03:20","slug":"midlife-crisis","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sabrinablaum.com\/blog\/midlife-crisis\/","title":{"rendered":"midlife crisis"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

I feel like I\u2019m going through a midlife crisis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I was in my late teens, my girlfriend at the time accused me of being heartless\u2014that because I didn\u2019t consume information about the pain and suffering in the world, I must not care. What she didn\u2019t understand was that if I look\u2014really look\u2014I break.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That\u2019s where I am right now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The world is\u2026troubling. That\u2019s not news. And while I have moments of utter despair, my nature pulls me back up after a good cry, trying to find ways I can help. But my help has always been distant: donating, writing letters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two weeks ago, I stumbled on two cat colonies in town. Since then, I\u2019ve been feeding them and trying to gear up to trap, spay, and neuter. I\u2019ve always known stray cats suffer. I\u2019ve donated to animal rescues for years. But that was distant knowledge\u2014untouched by proximity. Seeing these cats shifted something. Because I looked. And now I can\u2019t look away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today, I went to talk to the other person who feeds them. They weren\u2019t there, so I spoke to someone else. She told me about an orange kitten that recently died there after being hit by a car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d never seen that kitten. But as I drove away, I couldn\u2019t stop crying. I kept thinking about how young it was. How it never got to be loved or safe. My Kit Kat lived almost twenty years. This baby never had a chance. And it tears me to shreds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Again, none of this is new. But I looked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I know people suffer, too. That many never experience love or safety. I\u2019m not saying I don\u2019t care. But I like cats more than people. Someone once said that\u2019s because they don\u2019t talk back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No. Cats disagree with me plenty. But they\u2019re innocent in a way people often aren\u2019t. So many don\u2019t care about them. So many are cruel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mostly, though, their presence brings me peace. Joy. And cats don\u2019t just wake up one day and decide they don\u2019t want you anymore. They don\u2019t suddenly say, I don\u2019t like you. I don\u2019t need you. They don\u2019t abandon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even if I put all that aside, they\u2019re defenseless against humanity. And I\u2019ve always had a soft spot for the vulnerable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m also dealing with nerve issues from overtraining, which is scary in itself. My body feels like a construction zone, but it\u2019s my heart that\u2019s truly broken. Because I can\u2019t save these cats. I can\u2019t save all of them. I can\u2019t give them all safe, loving homes or even find homes for them. I can\u2019t save the people who are suffering. I can\u2019t save the environment we\u2019re destroying. I can\u2019t make people stop being cruel. I can\u2019t make them care.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can\u2019t save anyone or anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve always known that. But right now, it\u2019s killing me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because I looked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

My first cat, Johnny. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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