This week our little poodle/terrier mix dog Zoie died. I had put Zoie and Sugar on leashes in the kitchen with a blanket for them to sleep on. I have left them in the kitchen like this before. Sometime during the night they became so entangled in the leashes that Zoie was strangled and Sugar had the leashes wound so tightly around her right hind leg so tightly that I thought she might lose the leg. I had to use Cutco garden shears to cut the leashes apart to get them off the dogs, that's how tight they were. I could not believe Zoie was dead. I was so mad at myself for leaving them in the kitchen. Luckily Sugar's leg has improved to where she is now using it. I called Lois that morning to tell her what had happened. The kids were still asleep, and I didn't want them to wake up to see Zoie dead on the kitchen floor. Soon there was a knock on the back door, and it was Lois. She had come and dug a grave for Zoie behind the garage. I wrapped her in one of Nicole's baby blankets, and Lois took her out and buried her. I was so grateful for this act of kindness. It reminded me of the time I was staying with Lois and her black lab Maggie got hit by a car and died while Lois was in town. I dug her grave and buried her for Lois before she had to see what she looked like. I was so comforted by this single act of love and kindness.
I went to the doctor this week for my yearly physical. Seeing her made me realize how much better I feel daily than I did when I first saw her several months ago. She said she could see a vast improvement in my demeanor, so why do I still feel to crappy.
I have suffered from depression for most of my adult life (and probably before then). I had taken antidepressants for years, but quit taking them a year or so before I met Mel. I did fine off of them until Mel's cancer was diagnosed. My doctor had to put me on two different antidepressants to manage my depression and to help me try to function in the war zone called cancer. Of course, when Mel died my depression increased lots, or I think it did. Sometimes I think it was just the grief that made me feel so much more depressed. There were many times over the past year without Mel that I have thought about taking my own life. I had always thought this was such a selfish act, but I can now see why people resort to suicide. It scares me to know that I have been that close to making that decision, and I thank God for my kids and my faith and His guidance because those are the things that have kept me from doing the unthinkable. It's also a hard thing to admit. There were days I felt so bad that I couldn't believe I was alive. I didn't think it was possible to feel so horrible and still be alive and breathing. I can't say functioning because there were many days when I could not function. I wish people understood more about grief, but I realize now that knowledge only comes with experience, experience no one wants to list on their resume of life.
So where do I go from here? I thought I was doing so well, and now I've been knocked down again, only not so far down as before. I guess I keep facing forward even when I feel like I am moving backward. That's why I pray and thank God for the things I have learned this past year or so.
This is a picture of my mom, Nicole and Zoie the day we brought Zoie home.
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