
Bereavement Support Group
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deleted_user
I feel like I am repeating myself, but perhaps that will help?
About 3 weeks ago my grandfather on my dads side passed away, and a week before that my ASunt Pat died, and then only a few months before that my great uncle Jack died. I've also lost a cat, a fish and a mouse this year.
The hardest things were my Grandfather and my cat and my mouse.
I live with my BF in Alaska, and am 3000 miles away from my fathers family in Alberta Canada. I managed to borrow money from my mothers tribe in Manitoba Canada and some form a penpal in SC and even some from my newly ex-step father. I went to the airport and bought the ticket, and then they told me I wasn't allowed to fly without my birth certificate or a passport. Being Canadian Indian, my tribe signed a treaty years ago that gives me duel citizenship. I have never needed those things to travel across the border before.
I was dismayed and heart broken. Why did the fates give me the money, show me a path only to take it away from me. I live in Alaska because it is the only place I have ever felt accepted and at home. But it means living very very far away from family.
I've only ever lost 2 cats in my life, both of them black and both of them extremely dear to me. Annabell went missing back in 2001. I went away for the weekend, and when I came back she was gone. My step dad is allergic to cats and i was staying with my mom out in the woods at the trailer, and they had to live outside, so I tried to make the old van into a haven for them. But I couldn't live out there with them, and I was so sad to have them out there unprotected. I believe an eagle may have gotten her. But when i came home and found her missing, I made posters and walked the woods for days. I cried and cried, and began to fade, and about 4 months later I was hospitalized for severe depresson.
This year, in January, my Xaviar cat was ill, and also not getting along with my toddler. I sent out ads, and posters and tried very very hard to find him a new home, in the end I had no choice. I was losing my apartment and moving into a shelter, and my ex mother in law was taing my cats, but she didn't want Xaviar because he pee-d on clothes and blankets that smelled of my son. So I took him to the pound. I found out 2 weeks later they had put him down the next day, apparently he had lukemia, and I didn't know. It devistated me. I felt like a murderer. I still do to a point.
Then only 6 weeks ago, i had a beautiful healthy and happy little mouse which was called Acid. The cats liked to watch him and he loved to run on his little wheel. I liked to take him out and let him crawl on me when the cats were elsewhere. One night the youngest cat, whom I am actually only cat sitting for a friend, jumped up and tried to grab at the mouse in his cage and accidentally knocked the cage to the floor. I heard the crash and was up instantly, and he didn't squeak or anything. I reached in and got ahold of him and he seemed okay, he was nosing around and breathing, and I talked calmly to him. Then I noticed his back legs weren't moving, they weren't working at all. I sort of flipped out and locked the cats out and call pet ER and cried. I had him put down because he might have hurt himself dragging around all the time, and he wouldn't have been able to do normal mouse things anymore.
I'm tearing up now just remembering theese events. I don't understand death. Soemtimes I get that it nessecary, the whole circle of life thing, but then I don't get it for other things. Like my cats, they didn't deserve to die or get sick. My mouse didn't deserve to get hurt. My aunt Pat was only 50. Grampa lived a full life, at 84. But still, he was one of the strongest people I knew, he nver gave up. at least 3 times in his life he was told he either wouldn't walk, wouldn't work or would die within 6 months...and each time he proved them wrong. So one hip surgery does him in.
I'm mad, and annoyed and sad, and lost.
I don't have a huge support system anymore, since my mom left state and my spirit sister got married and sort of grew away. I just wanted to find someone to talk to and feel better.
About 3 weeks ago my grandfather on my dads side passed away, and a week before that my ASunt Pat died, and then only a few months before that my great uncle Jack died. I've also lost a cat, a fish and a mouse this year.
The hardest things were my Grandfather and my cat and my mouse.
I live with my BF in Alaska, and am 3000 miles away from my fathers family in Alberta Canada. I managed to borrow money from my mothers tribe in Manitoba Canada and some form a penpal in SC and even some from my newly ex-step father. I went to the airport and bought the ticket, and then they told me I wasn't allowed to fly without my birth certificate or a passport. Being Canadian Indian, my tribe signed a treaty years ago that gives me duel citizenship. I have never needed those things to travel across the border before.
I was dismayed and heart broken. Why did the fates give me the money, show me a path only to take it away from me. I live in Alaska because it is the only place I have ever felt accepted and at home. But it means living very very far away from family.
I've only ever lost 2 cats in my life, both of them black and both of them extremely dear to me. Annabell went missing back in 2001. I went away for the weekend, and when I came back she was gone. My step dad is allergic to cats and i was staying with my mom out in the woods at the trailer, and they had to live outside, so I tried to make the old van into a haven for them. But I couldn't live out there with them, and I was so sad to have them out there unprotected. I believe an eagle may have gotten her. But when i came home and found her missing, I made posters and walked the woods for days. I cried and cried, and began to fade, and about 4 months later I was hospitalized for severe depresson.
This year, in January, my Xaviar cat was ill, and also not getting along with my toddler. I sent out ads, and posters and tried very very hard to find him a new home, in the end I had no choice. I was losing my apartment and moving into a shelter, and my ex mother in law was taing my cats, but she didn't want Xaviar because he pee-d on clothes and blankets that smelled of my son. So I took him to the pound. I found out 2 weeks later they had put him down the next day, apparently he had lukemia, and I didn't know. It devistated me. I felt like a murderer. I still do to a point.
Then only 6 weeks ago, i had a beautiful healthy and happy little mouse which was called Acid. The cats liked to watch him and he loved to run on his little wheel. I liked to take him out and let him crawl on me when the cats were elsewhere. One night the youngest cat, whom I am actually only cat sitting for a friend, jumped up and tried to grab at the mouse in his cage and accidentally knocked the cage to the floor. I heard the crash and was up instantly, and he didn't squeak or anything. I reached in and got ahold of him and he seemed okay, he was nosing around and breathing, and I talked calmly to him. Then I noticed his back legs weren't moving, they weren't working at all. I sort of flipped out and locked the cats out and call pet ER and cried. I had him put down because he might have hurt himself dragging around all the time, and he wouldn't have been able to do normal mouse things anymore.
I'm tearing up now just remembering theese events. I don't understand death. Soemtimes I get that it nessecary, the whole circle of life thing, but then I don't get it for other things. Like my cats, they didn't deserve to die or get sick. My mouse didn't deserve to get hurt. My aunt Pat was only 50. Grampa lived a full life, at 84. But still, he was one of the strongest people I knew, he nver gave up. at least 3 times in his life he was told he either wouldn't walk, wouldn't work or would die within 6 months...and each time he proved them wrong. So one hip surgery does him in.
I'm mad, and annoyed and sad, and lost.
I don't have a huge support system anymore, since my mom left state and my spirit sister got married and sort of grew away. I just wanted to find someone to talk to and feel better.
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However, it still seems kind of extreme to need to be hospitalized becasuse of losing your cat, if that is why you were hospitalized.
Maybe you are prone to depression in the first place???
And don't feel bad about Xaviar, that not only saved him from getting really miserably sick and unavoidably dying eventually, feline leukemia is also contagious, and you may have kept it from spreading to other cats.
It is very difficult to get through all this loss without some kind of support system. DS is great for that, but you also might want to start making some friends there, too, if you can.
Have you ever gone to church?? I have found some very good friends that way.