A few days ago, I had to make the decision to put my dog down. My husband was with me, but I felt in many ways that it was my call. I was with her and he was on the phone with me. She needed emergency surgery that was prohibitively expensive for us and though we could have used up our credit cards or sold some stock to pay for the surgery, it made the most logical sense to put her down rather than to increase our debt. But logic does not heal the heart. Logic does not ease the pain. Logic just fuels the rage that keeps passing through me like wild fire. The moment it was done, my heart screamed "No! Take it back! Bring her back to me!" But I had already given the go ahead and that choice will forever be mine to bear.
So now I find myself more than angry. The pain of it is easier to handle as anger, so I growl at everyone, looking for a fight. Help me feel something other than pain. My other dog is keeping close to my side, he always does, but I want to reject him for the most part. He is not the one I miss. He is not her. And I resent him for it.
I am angry at the reason for the series of events that led up to this fateful day. Again, it comes back to me. I did not close the front door, she got out. She got hit by a car. And 4 months later, she is dead from an injury we could not see. I am trying to be grateful for those 4 months. And sometimes, I even can be. But my self loathing is ever present, ready to be reapplied like sunscreen whenever it starts to wash off.
I want to stop feeling so much, but at the same time, I want to feel more, to be punished for my faults, my neglect. I am eating everything and tasting nothing. I sleep, but am not rested. I breath into the top of my lungs, little sips of air, just enough. I am so angry. I am so sad. And there seems to be an infinite amount of both emotions. I am broken open and can't envision healing from this. I miss her.
