- Joined
- Jan 15, 2016
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- 5
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Three months ago I lost my best friend due to cancer. Yes, my best friend was a cat. She was in my life for 15 years, and I miss her so much.
It seems like she was sick for ages. I knew she didn't have much time left but for the past couple of years I tried my hardest to keep her alive. She started having problems with eating and was losing weight, but she still had her spirit. I refused to believe anything was seriously wrong with her. She had her good days and bad days. It was quite a long battle. I know I was almost unhealthily attached to her. Maybe I made the wrong decision and waited too long. It haunts me everyday that she was suffering but I was too stubborn to put her to sleep when I needed to. I did have her in my life for literally as long as I could remember (I can remember when she first came through the door when my mom brought her home--and I was four years old.)
The last vet appointment I took her to, I figured I would walk out of there with a positive solution to the problem. But the vet convinced me that there was absolutely nothing he could do, and the best solution was to end her suffering. So, I decided to take his advice, and I can't make up my mind about whether or not that was the worst decision I've ever made or the best one. The very last day of her life, she excitedly jumped up onto the place where she would take her meals (I usually had to lift her up there because she was so weak) and ate up a bunch of grilled chicken like she wasn't even sick. I still have that lasting image in my mind and it makes me wonder if it was her time yet.
I know my grief will never go away. I also know that there will be people who are mean and will mock me for it. I have heard the phrase 'it's just a cat, why are you still hanging on?' so many times. It's hard to make the people in my life understand why it hurts so bad. I took care of her for so long. A few months before she passed, I knew in the back of my mind it was going to happen soon. So I took as many pictures of her as I could, I spent every waking (and sleeping) moment with her. I even took a year off of college to devote my time to taking care of her. The past year has been absolutely awful for me because there was a ton of backlash from my family. No one wanted me to syringe feed her, or spend all my time keeping her clean and cared for. The thing is, most of the time she ate perfectly fine on her own (even though she was quite picky, and wouldn't gain weight), and I didn't mind at all having to deal with everything that goes with taking care of a sick animal. As much as I didn't mind taking care of her, my mental health was deteriorating because of all this. I had (and still struggle with sometimes) insomnia. I was always so worried she was going to keel over right in front of me with no warning, so my anxiety was through the roof as well.
Now that it's all over, I am going to college again. They offer free counseling services. I don't know if that entails pet grief counseling, though. The point is, I love college. I love the environment, I love staying busy. Yet I feel guilty for enjoying these things without my cat there with me. I keep thinking that maybe my problems can't possibly be that bad, but then I have an awful night and I realize that maybe I need help with this.
I am coping how I can right now. She is still the lock screen on my phone, I've collected and meticulously saved/protected every single picture that's ever been taken of her, I am currently looking for the perfect urn to hold her ashes in, and I've kept some things like her grooming tools and a lock of hair and the things she liked to lay on. I was just wondering if there is any advice on how I can make my thoughts of her less painful. Is counseling the way to go?
It seems like she was sick for ages. I knew she didn't have much time left but for the past couple of years I tried my hardest to keep her alive. She started having problems with eating and was losing weight, but she still had her spirit. I refused to believe anything was seriously wrong with her. She had her good days and bad days. It was quite a long battle. I know I was almost unhealthily attached to her. Maybe I made the wrong decision and waited too long. It haunts me everyday that she was suffering but I was too stubborn to put her to sleep when I needed to. I did have her in my life for literally as long as I could remember (I can remember when she first came through the door when my mom brought her home--and I was four years old.)
The last vet appointment I took her to, I figured I would walk out of there with a positive solution to the problem. But the vet convinced me that there was absolutely nothing he could do, and the best solution was to end her suffering. So, I decided to take his advice, and I can't make up my mind about whether or not that was the worst decision I've ever made or the best one. The very last day of her life, she excitedly jumped up onto the place where she would take her meals (I usually had to lift her up there because she was so weak) and ate up a bunch of grilled chicken like she wasn't even sick. I still have that lasting image in my mind and it makes me wonder if it was her time yet.
I know my grief will never go away. I also know that there will be people who are mean and will mock me for it. I have heard the phrase 'it's just a cat, why are you still hanging on?' so many times. It's hard to make the people in my life understand why it hurts so bad. I took care of her for so long. A few months before she passed, I knew in the back of my mind it was going to happen soon. So I took as many pictures of her as I could, I spent every waking (and sleeping) moment with her. I even took a year off of college to devote my time to taking care of her. The past year has been absolutely awful for me because there was a ton of backlash from my family. No one wanted me to syringe feed her, or spend all my time keeping her clean and cared for. The thing is, most of the time she ate perfectly fine on her own (even though she was quite picky, and wouldn't gain weight), and I didn't mind at all having to deal with everything that goes with taking care of a sick animal. As much as I didn't mind taking care of her, my mental health was deteriorating because of all this. I had (and still struggle with sometimes) insomnia. I was always so worried she was going to keel over right in front of me with no warning, so my anxiety was through the roof as well.
Now that it's all over, I am going to college again. They offer free counseling services. I don't know if that entails pet grief counseling, though. The point is, I love college. I love the environment, I love staying busy. Yet I feel guilty for enjoying these things without my cat there with me. I keep thinking that maybe my problems can't possibly be that bad, but then I have an awful night and I realize that maybe I need help with this.
I am coping how I can right now. She is still the lock screen on my phone, I've collected and meticulously saved/protected every single picture that's ever been taken of her, I am currently looking for the perfect urn to hold her ashes in, and I've kept some things like her grooming tools and a lock of hair and the things she liked to lay on. I was just wondering if there is any advice on how I can make my thoughts of her less painful. Is counseling the way to go?