Goodbyes

Today, and this week have been strange. I've been having really bad head pain all week. I got a sunburn. My therapist wants to do trauma therapy, which I'm excited for, that means my triggers will hopefully be reduced. Today I also got to plunge a really really gross toilet. On my way home I was going to stop by a store to get some food for tomorrow. On my way, I saw something laying in the road. 

Raccoons are common, so are deer. This didn't have a stripped tail, like a raccoon and it wasn't a dog. I saw a gray cat. I was near the barn and I thought, "please don't be one of the cats." I pulled in the parking lot, ran into the store and said I'll be back in a minute, and I was going to check on something. I go out and run to the road, I don't want anyone to run over this cat. 

 

I get up to the road and I go and look at the cat, and it looks like one of the boys from the barn. It's black outside, 11:40 pm. I had my phone flashlight on, cars start coming so I stand in the road while deciding what to do, and shine the light on the cat, so they don't hit him. I pick him up, he's warm and limp. My heart just breaks. I am nervous making the call to my boss. It's almost midnight, not exactly social hour. She tells me to put the cat at the vet office across the street.

I take him inside the store (sorry, not sorry other boss) and I just held him. I take a picture and send it to confirm it is the cat. It looks like him. I can't bring myself to put him in the bag my friend brought. It doesn't seem right. I don't want this cute boy to die "alone." He lived a good life. He was a barn cat. I just held him. I couldn't put him down. 

 

Goodbyes have always been a weak spot of mine. I wanted to cry, and I did shed some tears. I can't believe I won't see this troublemaker at the barn. His brothers and sisters won't know what happened, along with all the other barn cats. 

When did a simple trip for Gatorade turn into a cat recovery? Not that I mind. I don't like the posts online for missing animals and the ache when they aren't found. I'm sad I had to make the call, I'm sad I couldn't have done more. I didn't want him to have bugs or raccoons get to him before the vet can get his body. I want him to be disposed of honorably. I held him for an hour, I placed him in a box, he rode in the cab while we drove to the vet, I placed him in a bag and another box, and set him by the door. I also talked to him and asked why he had wandered to the road. I told him I missed him. I don't regret a thing. My heart bleeds for him.

 

It seems like goodbyes are in abundance in my life recently and it is really really hard. I get depressed more than usual and more anxious for all the changes. I am nervous I won't make it through the future. 

Lots of time, I would rather put up with the brutal reality than change something, but after a bunch of months I am burned out. My body feels like it is slowly dying. With all the other "unexpected blows" of life, some days I don't know how much more I can take. I am trying to build a positive future and trying to make good decisions. Sometimes I feel like the cat, I feel like I got hit by a car, I feel alone, I want someone to protect me, hold me and not let go. I'm heartbroken for this dear boy, and his silly antics. 

I didn't even notice (or care at all) I had his blood on me until I put him in the box. Washing it off, while bacterial cleansing, helped me hope I wouldn't forget him as easily as the blood came off my skin. I don't want to just "brush him off." One of my biggest fears is being forgotten. I wanted him to feel loved and not forgotten. I wanted him to feel noble. If you've felt this way, you aren't alone.