Tears for a dead cat

My little old friend died today. The cat living at my parents. He was sick a bit more lately, his health went up and down. Now he was a 17,5 year old cat, so not the youngest anymore, but he was really one of a kind. One with an instruction book. He always needed to be around with people. With all his own specific manners, demands, wishes, behaviour. Often when I would be home, he would hang with his full body on one of my arms, sitting there as a king being carried around. I never understood how that could be comfortable, but appearantly it was for him.

Since last weekend he didn’t eat anymore and he lost quite some weight.  I went to the vet twice. The first time we thought it was a throat infection he had before and that would explain the not eating too, but after 2 days it got worse. So I went back with the cat. He had to stay at the vet for tests and infusion therapy. I was supposed to call this afternoon, but this morning the vet already called me. I knew enough.

He was more sick than we thought, liver, kidneys, and in the end heart failure. He passed away in his sleep and that is good, but I still feel bad about letting him there. Though it was the only chance of survival, or not being in pain.

This afternoon I went to pick him up, because we will bury him in the garden, next to the other animals. I cried in the car. I cried at the vet. I cried on the way back. I am not really a person who cries a lot usually, but lately I don’t know what is happening to me, but I cry. Also in front of other persons. I cried at my previous job. I cried when I put my love at the train for a long trip. And now I cry for the cat.

There’s nothing wrong with that. Poor thing. It’s so quiet in the house now. No more meows, no more sitting on laps, no more screaming in the mornings, no more demands of food, attention, no more. Like always, I find death so weird. Really weird.

 

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Overwhelming sadness

Brick by brick. It falls apart. Brick by brick. Falls apart.

Repairing.

bricks

I did not draw for a long time. But what I drew, long ago, seems to be still accurate.

Maybe I never changed. Maybe I didn’t make any progress for a long, long time.

Maybe I never made any progress, and all I seem to do, is picking up the pieces that have been falling apart, pick them up together, rebuild it, and then the same story continues.

It falls apart. I repair it. It falls apart. I pick it up. It falls apart. And so on.

The storm is not over yet

sky

I feel the storm is not over yet. I think something might happen. Like something, as in an upcoming death. I don’t know exactly how or why or when, but I think my grandma is dying. Well, of course we’re all dying in the end, but maybe this will come like in soon.

She has been sick of a while (cancer in the throat) and she always talks about death (for over years), but somehow things seem to change.  I can’t exactly say how, but it’s different. She is maybe preparing to die, I don’t know. Sometimes people they know they are going to die somehow. I do not know, its just what I heard.

She asked about her insurance (which is way too low, a bit late to ask about but she never cared before) and about stuff (who wants to have this and that) and came this afternoon walking by (while my parents visited this morning). I don’t know. There’s something.

Maybe I am completely wrong, and maybe it’s weird and not nice to write about, but I can’t get it out of my head. I can’t talk about it to anyone, and it is bothering me. Because I have no idea how to deal with it, how to feel or what to do.

Because the worst thing is that I do not know if I really care. This sounds hard and rude, but the situation is really complicated. She wasn’t so nice to my parents. She made their life a bit like hell sometimes. It doesn’t seem that she ever accepted my dad , her son, or my mom. My dad was hit and told he couldn’t do anything right. My grandparents (grandfather is dead for some time) forbid him a lot. He didn’t want to see them again after he married my mom, but in my mom’s culture it’s not possible to ‘abandon your family’.Anyway, my moms from abroad and they dont seem to like abroad people. You know I could write about it for ages, of everything that happened but I don’t want to. Please just believe me that its complicated.

Now my parents will go to the family abroad soon. There’s not much people left here. Just me. Just one of my sisters. I have an aunt, her daughter, but complicated too: she never asks them, they don’t ask anything back. They just live beside and distant. Thats how it always went.

And I can’t help myself the questions:
WHat if something happens now?
What if she dies when my parents just left or want to leave?
She will stirr all the plans again.
She feels sorry about the things in the past I think, because of certain things she says sometimes. But she never said sorry, or admitted. She will talk like “look how nice and good I am”, but in the meantime, truth is different.And now she’s old and no one’s there.
And now she feels sorry. And is afraid to die. Her own relatives, a few alive, they are not in touch, because they dislike each other (well actually, it’s more like hate).

Anyway, I just keep wondering what is the truth.

And I know I will never really know.

And I know I will never know how to deal with this.

I feel her fear. I feel pain. I feel so much things, but they are not mine. And still they are strong. I feel anger. I feel the things that went wrong. I feel the things that happened and were not nice. I feel that she always wanted to hide them. I feel the past.

And I will never know.

I will always wonder how

And always wonder how to deal with this.

 

it’s kind of sad, i guess.

A lot of things going on and I could write about so much things. The world is a sad place. So is mine.

I’m feeling pushed, and that people around me don’t give space. And they seem to blame me for it.

Do they even understand what it’s like to feel depressed, that every day is a fight again and just living life is hard enough, but no, everyone wants you to make plans and future goals and whatever all these things, but it’s already hard enough to struggle through each single day. Without future plans, because they are simply too hard. Without goals, because they are simply too far, out of reach and they eat too much energy. Energy that is needed just to get through the day.

I am angry, and at the same time filled with apathy, sadness, sorrow, and a void.

I can not even talk about it, because it makes me too sad.

But I can say is that I feel under a lot of pressure. People pulling at me.

And I feel very alone. Like VERY alone.

I want to crawl away and hide, and not face anyone and not face the world and not live life. And that is not even possible. How pathetic. Seriously.

sadness wins, sometimes

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I walk, because I need to get better, because I need to get fit. Because I need to take care of myself.But I walk and instead of feeling better, I feel sadness, and apathy. I feel scared, anxiety, and nasty thoughts.
What if I’m sick and I’m going to die? What if I never get rid of this freaking dysthymia? What if I can’t live a normal life and can’t hold on to my job? So many what if’s, but I know it doesn’t matter and I don’t have answers and I shouldn’t ask myself these questions. I don’t even know why I ask these questions. But they are in my head.

The sun shines, but my feelings are numb.It’s beautiful, the sun, the nature, the emptiness of the landscape. That I try to take care of myself. But I don’t feel it. All I want is to crawl away and feel sad, because I am. I want to be with my love, to feel safe and welcome.

But my love is far, and I’m stuck in this crazy sadness and hell of a pressure at work. I’m stuck in this life of nothingness. No, I’m not stuck forever, but I’m stuck now, and I feel this intense sadness, that makes me doubt about everything and makes me scared of so much things.

I don’t want to be scared. I don’t want to feel this way.

And yet, it’s all that happens.

Silent sun

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Outside, there is life. Outside, there is sun. The brightness and happiness, and where life happens.

Inside, there is me. Inside, there is darkness. A world of apathy, numbness and no energy.

A world where a smile hurts. A world where nothing seems to matter.

I pretend I see the sun, and just remain silent.

Not forgotten sorrow

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I did not forget -I tried to

But I know it always follows me

and I can run and I can hide – but it will always find me.

 

I guess this is my life

and things don’t get better, because maybe this is the best it can be

 

And sometimes

I’m just going under

Under the pressure

Under the pain

 

And sometimes I wish so badly
I was a drug addict and I could drug away my pain

I was an alcoholic and I could drink away my pain

I was a smoker and I could smoke away my pain

 

But I’m none of them

I’m just here with my pain.