Psycho-Babble Grief | about grief, mourning, loss | Framed
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My cat (long, ranty)

Posted by Klokka on August 17, 2004, at 9:10:18

I don't even know what to say. My dad woke me up an hour ago now, saying the cat was a little sick and needed to go to the vet for a checkup. I got up and got dressed, and before I know it my mom's picking us up to take him there. I should've known right then that she was doing what she's wanted to do all along. "When are we seeing the vet?" I asked. "He's staying there. I'm sick of playing games and spending money, enough is enough." I left my only family (yeah, melodramatic, but it seems that way) at that clinic. She didn't even have the decency to schedule an appointment so that I could be there with him when he died! She yelled at me for suggesting it; if she was really cold, she would've "talked to the SPCA and had them take care of him." And she wonders why I never talk to her! He's still there now, probably, scared to death and waiting for his. And I can't comfort him anymore. He knew something was wrong - he cried his lungs out on the drive there. He hasn't done that in years.

I expected him to come to the stairs to greet me when I got back, like he always does, and it didn't. I keep expecting to turn around and see him napping on my bed, or to hear him chasing a ball of paper down the hall, but all I have now is the towel I wrapped him in on the drive down and the sound of my sobbing. I can't even get some tea or water because I remember how he'd try and share those drinks from time to time. I hate myself for not being there for him. He must be so scared now. I hate myself for not waking up to an alarm this morning so I could be there for his last hours here. I'm never going to see him again. I don't know what to do. This hurts too much... and I have to pull myself together. School waits for no one. And I have to see her face every day for the next year, at least. I said some horrible things to her, and I meant them all. I hate myself for that too. I hate myself for letting them do this to him. He was healthy, apart from a few problems here and there! For crying out loud, my parents are sicker than he is. What does she think she's trying to teach me, that life is disposable? I hate myself for crying in front of them. I hate myself for ever bringing him into this family in the first place. I should've known how they'd declaw him and then hit him when he bit out of fear, I should've known they'd neglect his medical needs and then kill him for being a little sick. I was a stupid child then, but I should've known. It was that obvious. I hate myself for all of this.

I just don't know what to do right now. I'm going to schedule an appointment with the T covering for my pdoc (he's on vacation 'til the 7th... go figure) and then... I don't know. Maybe I'm just weak, but this hurts too much and nobody's there right now. I don't even know if I want them to be... then I'd just care more, and everyone I've ever cared about has gone or is doomed to go away. I can't see through this right now.


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Psycho-Babble Grief | Framed

poster:Klokka thread:378586
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/grief/20040811/msgs/378586.html