When my cat Andie died last December 13 2017. I felt that my heart was life and heart were completely broken. I couldn’t understand how my life was going to be worth living without her. She was so kind and loving to me, all the time, even when I gave her intramuscular shots and oral medications; she never run away from me, she loved me so and losing her has been very painful….NO…extremely painful to me. It is an unimaginable pain missing her everyday. There was a special connection between Andie and me, and yes, that connection will never die.
Through out my 32 years of having cats in my life I have lost several through old age, some sudden acute disease and they all have been loved and rescued cats. They all leave a hole in my heart when they die.
Anyways, I read this beautiful post of Milly Schmidt and decided not to be ashamed of showing my own pain and my vulnerability to suffer like every one else in this world and share some of my own grieve with you by reblogging her post.
When my cat died on March 20th, I stopped blogging entirely. The only reason you’ll see I posted blogs on that particular date (and after) is because I always schedule my blogs about 1-2 weeks ahead.
I would like to let you all know that I have been reading every single comment left on this blog – even if I never replied. Your comments have been little sparks of light in the darkness. Thank you too, for all the lovely, heartfelt emails and for being so understanding and sharing in my grief when I posted about losing Sven last month.
I’m not embarrassed to admit, that I, the ever optimistic happy go-lucky crazy cat lady, finally reached the end of her tether after my pet died. And we should not be ashamed of feeling sad. If we do, we help perpetuate the stigma of depression that stops people reaching out for help.
It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to let others know that you’re not coping well.
For me, I think the problem was, no matter how lousy I was feeling, my dog and cat would always be there for me, so to lose one of my constant companions has been absolutely devastating. I have never needed Sven more than I need him now, yet he’s lost to me forever.
I usually feel pretty happy most of the time, but when Sven died, any sparks of happiness vanished along with him. It took a few weeks before I could look at a sunrise and feel that rush of appreciation and contentment I used to feel. But even then, I knew that something was still not right.
I think I recognized I was getting to a point where I couldn’t handle the grief any longer. I needed some cats around to force me to laugh. I mean… how can you not laugh when you see a face like this??