The Crying Game

I know what you're probably thinking. You're thinking "Really? MORE depressing stuff about her cat?" Well, the short answer to that is "yes." The beautiful thing is that this is my blog. I get to do whatever I want. And while I try to maintain a sense of happiness on here, right now I'm freaking depressed, so that's what I'm going to write about.

Today simply hasn't been a good day. Last night both hubby and I had a terrible night. After all of the emotion of having to go through the goodbye process, neither one of us were able to sleep. I cried pretty much all night and poor hubby was stick to his stomach because of the stress of the situation. I figured if I could grab even 2 hours of sleep, maybe I'd wake up and things wouldn't be so hard on me. I was wrong. I wasn't able to get recuperative sleep because I kept seeing her little face every time I closed my eyes.

So, with a little over 2 hours of what we'll call "sleep", I woke up at 5:30 this morning with hubby as he got ready for work. I cried, took a shower, cried some more, got dressed, cried and did my hair and battled the tears as I tried to put on make up (even though it was pretty much a waste.) I went to work, and cried. Then, I came home and when she wasn't waiting for me by the door, I cried even more. My eyes are puffy and swollen beyond belief.

Here's the thing: no one likes to confront someone else's grief. It's difficult. We offer condolences, sometimes we cry, but to talk to someone about their real, deep, heart-felt loss is uncomfortable. Sometimes, it's even looked down upon. I just don't think that's right. I certainly don't want to be a mood spoiler, and I swear I'm not trying to be melo-dramatic, but I'm grieving. Yes, it's over a cat. But you know what? That doesn't make it any less of a loss. She lived with us for years. Since 2005, in fact. But before that, she was my little lap lizard at my father-in-law's house. I miss her terribly, and I should be allowed to cry all day if I need to.

I don't think that it's a secret that I'm pretty freaking terrible at dealing with loss. The whole idea of death is very hard for me to grasp. The fact that it's probably the most finite thing I'll ever deal with is insane. I find it so hard to believe that I'll never, ever see my loved one again while I'm alive. Who could deal with something as complex as death when that's what they focus on? I know I need to change my perspective on the whole thing, but my few encounters with loss have taught me that my worst fear is not of actually dieing, but of dealing with the loss of those I love (and yes, that includes my pets.)

So, if you've stuck with me through this rambling mess of emotion, you deserve a high five or something. I just feel like someone out there needed to confront the fact that grief isn't pretty. It means running mascara, puffy eyes and tears at the drop of the hat. It means clinging onto the blanket of the animal who isn't coming home simply because it smells like her. It's depressing and it's not fun. But it's life. This is what grief looks like, and I don't apologize for it. I may wake up tomorrow and feel fine. It's not likely, but who knows. I may still shed tears a few years from now. All I know is that someone is going to need to tranquilize me when we deal with this from now on.

And that, my friends, has triggered another wave of tears. I'm off to cuddle with the hubby and nurse my headache. Thank you for sticking with me.