Broken Bella Donna

{January 19, 2014}  

Dunno how I feel ATM. Think that blogging it out would probably make me feel better but not sure I want to think about it. I’m a thorough attendee of the “pretend it isn’t happening” school.

My old boy is getting older. And every day I am reminded that with every nightfall, I am one day closer to losing him, to having to make that decision to let him go. And I honestly don’t think I’m capable of it. And I feel ill when I go to bed because I know that it signifies the close of day – and one less to go.

He’s slowed down the last few weeks and I’m unsure if this is normal – I don’t know if this drop off should be so drastic. I think he has arthritis, but we’ve managed it for awhile without medication. I think that may have to change and that makes me sad. I hope that if we do, that perhaps this will cheer him up? And I’m unsure if he has a tooth problem – I think he might but he has no signs of pain or difficulties from it. I want to get the nerve to go to the vet about these things, and deal with them if they are an issue in order to make him happier but… I’m not even sure if any of them are making him unhappy. And I have horrible, terrible spazz attacks regarding the vet. We had a really bad ‘moment’ regarding the health of my boy some years ago, he was (tentatively) misdiagnosed with a very fatal, very painful problem. He’s still here so she was obviously very wrong but it really scarred me. I thought I was taking him in with a basic issue and came out thinking my healthy, happy middle age dog was probably going to die. So I now live in fear (literally) of having to take my kids to the vet, and always assume that every tiny thing is in fact a huge, fatal, nasty, painful and expensive problem. This coupled with the fact that the girl I lost a year ago (to the day, tomorrow) did in fact end up with a very rare, nasty cancer that was misdiagnosed by the same practice… that dragged out for 6 long, uncertain months… you can understand why I Fucking Hate Going To The Vets. And the trip to get there is nearly an hour, with a dog that doesn’t terribly like traveling. And I bloody well know that once i get there I’ll be palmed off with some lame excuse and I’ll feel like she hasn’t done her job properly, no resolution will be found and I’ll continue to think there is a big problem and we’re still not to the bottom of it. Meh. And no, there is no other options for vets in the area.

I need to be a big brave grown up and get my shit together. I’ve probably got years and years left in the old fella yet. Of course I thought that about my bitch too and at this stage in her life, she had just under two years to go and a quarter of that was hardly worth calling living.

WHY WHY WHY must I over think everything, assume the worst? Why must I read up on health problems and then apply them all to my poor unsuspecting dogs? I’m like a dog owner hypochondriac. Disaster. I either need to stop owning dogs or start owning so many that I can not develop a crazy strong bond with any particular one, making it easier to let them go.

Actually what I really need is a bloke. And I don’t even want one. But having one around gives me something else to focus on, and transfer my affections to. It would certainly be healthier for my mental health. I realised the other day that PP probably made losing my girl easier, because he gave me somewhere else to focus, something else to think about. She was relegated slightly backwards, inched a bit closer to her rightful position as loved pet, not the pedestal of ‘best thing in the world’ that my old boy is currently.

Speaking of, he keeps popping up on facebook chat. Three or four times in the last two days. I didn’t message him, fuck him. Once upon a time he would pop up repeatedly like that, either waiting for me to message him or after awhile he’d message me first. Who knows what his reasoning was, but no doubt he wont be back online again in a hurry and we’ll never know. I miss being able to message him without worrying what it would look like, or if he’d ignore it, or if he would answer and be cold and that would be worse than being ignored. In fact I left a nice message at Christmas. He viewed it and ignored it. I really do hope he got on and checked out my page to see what I’ve been up to. Cause I recently put up a profile pic that makes me look really pretty, ha ha! Cop what you’re missing, arsehole!

Life is blah blah blah ATM. No reason to be spazz but the dog issues have left me with tension. And I hate this because even if something IS wrong, I’m allowing it to colour the time spent, my spazzy tension is palpable and would be making him sad.

Relos are hanging around ATM and driving me crazy. I don’t want to be a free babysitter for kids that insist on mouthing off. Leaves me being the angry bossy one which I don’t really like being. I’d rather be liked. This is also causing tension ATM.

The mothership is taking over things that are none of her business and pushing favours extended to me towards the sister. She does this a lot, as I believe I’ve previously whinged. It’s frustrating because opportunities offered to me are funneled the sisters way, to make her life easier, to please her. She doesn’t even approve of motherships behaviour, tho she’s never made efforts to stop it. Grr. Such annoyingly toxic behaviour, bringing out annoyingly toxic reactions from I.

And – this really shits me – I let spazz attacks get the better of me the other day, and I didn’t go to something I’d been looking forward to because of it. Grr. Step backwards. I did realise though that whilst I was out of the house, I didn’t feel spazzy at all and could’ve cheerfully have attended… it wasn’t until I got home that the spazz became an issue. Why is this? Is it situational? Will it be better when I get into my own place?

On the plus side – and I must come up with some because life REALLY isn’t that negative at the present, I’m just whinging because I feel stressy about the whole dog thing – I got lots of nice positive feedback from the aforementioned profile pic on facebook, which was nice for the ego. In fact two different people used the word stunning. So that was a day improver!

Positive things:

  • That the guy in the shop wanted to employ me, even if the mothership doesn’t approve, he thinks I’m worth employing
  • Getting lovely feedback from peers on my appearance
  • The exuberance and joy a puppy brings
  • My friend is giving birth tomorrow!
  • life really isn’t that bad and I need to stfu and remember I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, an education and money in the bank and this makes me significantly better off than most.

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