At some stage in therapy I did grieve for each member of my family. I think it was a realisation that I had lost them in my today more so than the past. I never knew them in any good sense so I guess it was letting go of the yearning for them to change. Any hope of them changing was futile.

When my dear old cat died I was mortified. T tried to tell me a lot of my feelings towards the loss of Bulla Kat were related to the loss of my mother. I did depend on the cat to respond to my affections, and felt that she needed me. Death can be the biggest rejecter.

I can see the similarity between my need to be needed by a cat, and that of my parents feelings towards their youngest child. Love? No!

I have only ever known hostile dependence.

When Bulla Kat became too demanding of my affections I could feel my hostility towards her rise up; in the same way I felt hostility from my mother when I asked for love. And when Malcolm became a little too demanding of me (dependent) I pushed him away for the same reasons.

Bulla Kat was a lucky cat. She had already been loved by her mother, and just needed the occasional pat from her mother image to reconnect with those feelings.

T described the love he felt towards each of his new born bubbies. His words fell on deaf ears, but the look in his eyes while he spoke of them was a one I had never seen.

The trigger to love is love. An infant is not able to feel the instinct to love until it is given.


Those who have a 'why' to live, can bear with almost any 'how'.”
― Viktor E. Frank
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