Please, Eleven Years Isnt Enough

My cat, Bamboo, went missing a week ago. He has a bad leg and is twelve years old, but he's incredibly smart. He knows how to avoid cars and animals and make friends with everyone and open doors.
Everyone in our neighborhood is looking out for him, they're all worried. We searched for him, put up signs. We got calls about a similar, but feral, cat.
I'm scared. He's always been there, an immovable presence in our lives. We adopted him from New Hampshire eleven years ago. He was almost adopted by some other people, but we got him first. He's one of those cats that dont seem like cats. They seem like people, who now and understand you.
And he's such a handsome boy.

We got a call form some people who think they saw a cat like him, wearing a collar.

I know that cats sometimes just wander off, but he's never done anything like this before.

Please send good thoughts to bring him home.

I just want my baby boy back.

~

I had three tests in a day, and I was so stressed out that I failed all three of them. If that doesnt explain the school system, nothing does.

I think my parents went to their first marriage counseling session.

Dad asked me a few mornings ago if i need to be hospitalized because of my lovely mental state. I told him I didnt think so. I dont think I'll do anything as drastic as active suicide, it's just there.

I signed up to be a backstage person for Junk 2 Funk, our school's fashion show and biggest event of the year. It's always sold out within hours. But they decided that they had too many people, and cut me and my friend. But then some head person asked me to help out and sort the dancers with their costumes, so there's that i suppose.

~

it's just thing after thing that seem to pile on. More weights on my ankles. I want to lie down and not move again.