A few days before my boyfriend died he passed by my house to drop a makeup bag I had forgotten in his mom’s car. He spoke to my mother for the last time and commented that he hoped my ten year old pompek Dorry never dies because he didn’t know how I would survive without her.

How ironic… that he was the one that ended up dying just a few days later and I didn’t know how to survive with losing him. 

Time went on and Dorry grew older… in the last few years she lost most of her fur, went blind and lost almost all her teeth… but she was mine. 

Dorry died yesterday at almost seventeen years old. It wasn’t a long, arduous affair… she merely was quite quiet for the two days before but with the torrential rain we had had, we just thought her arthritis was acting up so she wasn’t as active. It was her posture yesterday morning that told us something was wrong… it was 6am and no vet opens till 8… she was gone by 7. 

I sat with her and pet her and spoke to her. When she was gone she was buried in out front lawn and flowers planted on her grave.

She was the closest thing I would ever have to a child. She spent half her life with me. I loved that dog more than I ever remotely cared for most ppl that came and went in my life. I always used to think about the statement my boyfriend made and was always so afraid for the day when she would finally leave me. Every time I pass by her room now I just look in and see the empty spot where she used to snooze all day. 

We have other dogs and we also have a cocker spaniel, Stella, that we all love beyond life itself. But… Dorry was the queen of the house. It will be a long time, if ever, before we consider getting another dog again. The pain of the attachment and then losing them is just so much. I miss my girl. 

Love my Dorry aka Dorrabella-May aka Dorra-Bean aka Old Girl. 


New therapist 

I went to see a new therapist last week. I never had much luck with therapists so for the last few heads I’ve jus never bothered to try any new ones. But since my sponsor recommended this one and I trust him, I decided to see what she was like. 

I also decided to go because of how much anxiety and stress I’ve had lately and because my OCD tendencies started to act back up a whole lot over the past two months. I wake up every morning at 2 am with intense stomach pain that I know is nothing more than me obsessing about work and things that need to get done.. 

The therapist is relatively young but she is acquainted with addiction / families of addicts. She listened and the initial session went over the one hour and ended up being two hours. She didn’t try to get into anything too heavy all at once. Most therapists go straight to – well you need to move out of your house. Which… for me … is an unrealistic goal. I won’t ever just move out and leave my mother behind just so. 

Instead she suggested smaller thing… 

get out more, try to exercise or at least walk (since I’ve had no zeal and I haven’t done that in about four months) and a couple of other things to deal with anxiety. One was even to write things down/ make lists and cross them off after so that I visualize that I’ve accomplished something. 

I can’t afford to go see her every week but I will try to go once a month or twice if possible and see how it goes… 

It’s been a while…¬†

Blogging started out as something carthatic got me. But like everything else after a while… it felt like all I had to blog about was my addict (cuz what else is new in my life)… or how depressed I am. 

So when I tried to stop blogging about those things and try to focus on other aspects of life, I realized I don’t have any and therefore I just stopped blogging often. 

I suppose I’ve been in a depressive “space” longer than usual lately. Life is still stagnant because for it to be moving it means I have to move… and I just feel stuck all the time. It’s hard to know you’re a failure at actually LIVING, when you’re supposed to be guiding youths everyday and making them feel positive and excited about their futures. I expend all my energy at work to just get by and after that I’m of no use to myself or anyone else for the rest of the day. I feel so tired everyday all the time… like physically just drained. I thank God everyday that I never had children because what would I do? I would not be able to feel exhausted and be responsible for doing things for others! 

My addict is acting up again (what’s new). He got me really angry yesterday. He was extremely drunk and leaving the house (definitely to get crack) and I tried talking him out of leaving. While I’m much shorter than him, I was on a sort of step/ small incline so we were eye level. He said something that got me really pissed and tried to barge past me and without thinking I pushed him. 

He didn’t fall, he stumbled (only because he was so drunk) and in that split second I had to think okay how am I escaping if he recovers and tries to get me. I was in a small space between his van and the garage wall, so I knew I could only go backwards and around the van but he definitely could not be allowed to catch me because then it would definitely be a fight to the end. He is much bigger than me and definitely much stronger so I would have to rely on just being faster. 

But he was so surprised probably that I pushed him that he seemed stunned and then didn’t know what to do. Eventually he came inside bathed, ate and went to lie down. But his mind had already been made up that he was going to do crack so he ended up leaving anyway. 

It was just a reminder yet again that you can’t reason with them, or push them in the direction you want or save them from themselves. They will do what they want to do. This week it felt like … well why don’t I just drink or do drugs or whatever I want ? Maybe then I might be happy … he is… if anything he’s the only person in this house who’s happy. 

But every year is the same thing and nothing changes he doesn’t change we don’t change this doesn’t change. Everyone else is moving ahead in life and doing all of these great things… and I’m just going to work everyday, coming home and cussing about the shit going on IN work and having to deal with the shit going on AT home. 

I’m going to see a mental health counselor next week but I’ve been to some before and it never really made a real difference. So I don’t expect anything really this time either… but the person was recommended by my sponsor so I decided to give it a try since I trust him. 

I’ve had so much anxiety and stress for the past three months I wake up every night around 2-3 am now with the excruciating stomach pain I used to get years ago which continues off and on throughout the day. Makes no sense seeing a doctor I spend thousand years ago to do procedures for them to just tell me – it’s stress and we can’t help you. So I’m not even bothering this time in just trying to see if it phases out eventually since stress in particular seems to affect my stomach or give me migraines. 

I don’t think it’s ever possible to really explain to someone how you feel. When ppl ask how are you going or how are you today I just ignore the question and ask THEM another question instead. Ppl like to talk about themselves so I’ve found that 99% of the time that works and hardly ever so they ask me again in the conversation how am I doing. Which… I don’t mind. Because I feel like I would just be repeating myself anyway about how much I hate living and who wants to hear that anyway?