I'm Just Numb, This Isn't Happening., Going the wrong way on the grief cycle. Options

[ann]

I got her ashes back last night. I couldn't even bear to take the urn out of the box, couldn't even touch the box when my boyfriend brought it home. I just stared at it, sitting on our dining room table. I still don't know what to think about it. Or how to think about it. I felt like I was getting a little better before, but then when I saw the small box with what I knew was Stella inside.... I can't describe it. I'm glad I chose not to bury her. We don't know how long we'll be here, and I know I couldn't stand to leave her... but it's still hard. I guess it would have been, regardless of my choice. This weekend I'm going to be collecting her things and creating a place for them in our office closet. It used to comfort me to see her things everywhere as though she'd be home any day, but now that I know it's an impossibility, seeing them just rips open a fresh wound in my heart. I could never get rid of any of it, but I can no longer be surrounded by it, either.

Hi Jaedon, Yes the "clean up" is hard. When we lost Arthur, Dave just tossed everything in a bag and put in down the cellar. I had to go though it and decide which to toys goes in his memory box and grave box. And there is still a lot of "stuff" I just can't part with yet. My first thought, donate, but I'll wait. Like you I had him cremated, 'cuz of the uncertainty of living arangement. It gives you "time" to decide to keep the ashes or bury them. With us we did both. Most is in his memory box, which I pick up and kiss everyday and place fresh catnip in it. A few scoops we buried by his catnip plant which he loved. I thought I'd be like you about the ashes, but that doesn't bother me as much as if I were to bury him as he was. I couldn't do it, and again moving and leaving him there, just didn't sit right with me. It's going to take a lot of time. The "accepting" is the hardest part of all.. Hugs to you and Stella

[Jaedon]

In two days it will be two months since I lost Stella to lepto. I still often cry myself to sleep and feel frequent jabs to my heart during the day when my mind wanders back to her. What I find disturbing is that there seems to be a part of me that's bent on torture. I replay her last day over and over again in my mind, even though I try not to remember it and to focus on the good times. It just happens and it rips my heart in two. I can't help thinking, "Was there something else I could have/should have done?" Was she disappointed in me? Did I let her down? Did I let her go too soon? Should I have let her go? Was she afraid? Where is she now? Besides, the horrible voice inside me sneers, in an urn in the corner of my closet. What have I done? Was I selfish?? How could I have done this to the one I love most in the world? There is a kinder voice that tries to assure me that it wasn't my fault; it was the lepto. I've even told others not to blame themselves. Yet at times, I can't manage it. What would have happened if she had been human? Would I have done more? Would the doctors? I remember her last couple of weeks, when one of the vet techs was reacting to her as if she had leprosy, and there was a bright pink sign on her file that warned everyone against touching her with bare hands and of keeping her anywhere outside of "quarantine." Did this keep them from helping her as much as they could have? An angry, desperate fire is burning somewhere deep inside my chest, threatening to consume my heart. I've noticed that, since her passing, I have a harder time controlling my emotions. At one instant, I'm happy and almost hyper, but then, moments later, I'm brooding and irritable. It's only after these horrible mood swings have passed that I become absolutely mortified, thinking about what I've said or done. Everyone must think I'm going insane; I've begun to wonder the same thing. I've thought about seeking help, but I don't want to be patronized. I can't help but think that no one can truly understand who Stella was to me. It seems trite, it does, and it's said by so many, but she was everything. She was my rock. When I had nothing and no one else, no matter how horrible the day or life seemed, she was my light at the end of the tunnel. And now she's gone. I feel like my safety line has been cut, and I'm floating around in darkness out in space, continually losing oxygen. I'm done being strong. I'm done. I want her back now. I give up, I can't do this, whoever is trying to put me through this test-- you win. Give her back. I'm done, I quit.

[Missing Fleetwoo...]

Jaedon,

Please do not beat yourself up, you did the very best you could for Stella and she knows that! While the loss seems hard now, it will get a little easier over time. I don't think we ever get over the loss of our furbabies, but it is the love they gave us while they were physically with us that keeps us going. That unconditional love which lives forever in our hearts is what we all need to draw on when we are missing them the most. For me when I get to missing my Fleetwood so much the pain becomes unbearable I retreat into my heart and remember his purring and his warm fur next to me. I know he’s still looking out after me and on occasion I see him running down the hallway and know he is just looking in on us. Hang in there and know you can always come here for comfort.

Mark
Missing Fleetwood