Content Warning: Non-detailed descriptions of animal death
This entry is more personal than I would generally want to share here, but there's something about old school blogs that was so authentic. Part of the reason why I wanted to start a traditional blog was to regain some of that authenticity that is lost on new social media. I really enjoyed reading about people's real lives and how they navigated life's many pitfalls. I share this hoping that whoever may be reading it gains insight into their own life, as bloggers before me gave me insight into my own. Hello, reader!
I recently graduated college with my BA, and I'm the first person in my entire family to do so. It's a big accomplishment, but because of the circumstances of the last couple of months, I don't feel much about it (yet!). This year I have done many things I'm proud of, but I can't feel much about it right now.
My kitty Mitsuki passed away on September first after a sudden onset of illness. She was only about 3, and I am really struggling with her death. I think part of it is that I'm in a transitional period of my life, and I don't really have any distractions or IRL social connections to relieve the pain of it. Before, I would have work or school, but I don't have either of those things right now. I'm doing my best to take care of myself and distract from the grief when I can, but anyone who has experienced loss knows that there's more to healing than that.
With Mitsuki gone, I think that there are three main aspects of it that I'm struggling with. First, I just miss her. She was really the best cat in the world. Maybe I'll make a in memorium page on this site one day where I can talk as much as I want about what a great cat she was.
Second, I'm struggling with the fact that I couldn't have reasonably seen it coming. I took careful care of her, always monitoring her food, water, and bathroom. I took her on leashed backyard adventures and played with her every day to keep her from getting bored. I always took her to the vet on time and got her the best care that I could, even before she was sick. I spent so much time with her and paid close attention to her. I keep thinking about what I could have done differently, and if I'm honest with myself, there's no way I could have seen what was to come.
Third, I think I've been making her passing mean something more than it needs to be. Four vets looked at Mitsuki over the two days she was in the hospital, and no one could figure out what was wrong. Her entire body just shut down so quickly. If there was no reasonable way I could have prevented her illness, then it was just random. I've lost cats to coyotes and other pointless threats, so I made sure to keep Mitsuki as safe and well taken care of as I could. It seems like cruel irony that she died so young. It hurts so much that a random illness hit when I did so much to keep her healthy and happy. It hurts that even though I tried so hard for Mitsuki, I couldn't do anything more to prevent her death.
It makes me question everything about my life. A lot of things in my life are out of my control, so I do my best in other aspects to make up for it. I try really hard, and sometimes I go a bit overboard. In general, I'm a positive person, and I have a hopeful outlook on life. I try to focus on small joys and accomplishments. And I've accomplished a lot this year! ...But now, I really question if hard work, positivity, and hope is enough to pull myself out of this pit. A lot of great things happened this year, but a lot of bad things happened too. I just choose not to focus on those most of the time. Right now, it's hard to remember the nice things and to care about my future. I feel a little lost without hope.
I hope that by the next time I update, I'll be in a better place. Healing and grief is a non-linear journey. Some days are easier and some more difficult. Generally I like to focus on the future and what I can do to make life better. But I think it's okay to just focus on breathing and getting to tomorrow.