Or maybe it does. I don’t know at this point. Rarely do I ever completely overlap my social media and my blog (makes it sound like I have some sort of following, which I don’t). I am always careful to not give away too many clues as to who I am in real life. I mean, I AM who I portray myself to be in my blog as in life, but to protect myself from someone going “AHA! I know this is……..”
Crazy cat ladies are a real thing. I found out yesterday that the Private Investigator happens to be engaged to one. No clue why, but whatevs. He was telling me how he had to get rid of half his clothes when moving into the fiance’s 4 bedroom house. Uhm, shouldn’t that be plenty of room so the poor man has somewhere to hang his garments? One would think. But no. No, because the fiance’s cats have a room of their very own. Closet and all. Of course they do….
I digress and this bridge between topics will be rough. Very rough. Just like my life right now. I am the canine version of a crazy dog lady. Sure, I’ve stopped short of giving my dogs their very own room (and closet), but I LOVE my dogs. All 3 of them. I have a favorite. Everyone does. Mine is super chill and amazing and cool looking and loves everyone. Rarely do I take him anywhere where people don’t stop to comment and pet him. He’s amazing. He was one of my mom’s cast offs 9 years ago (she sucks) when I told her I would take him on a trial basis. I’ve almost decided to keep him. 😉
He’s sick. VERY sick. We were at our beach haven last week and he was fine on Monday. By Tuesday afternoon he was fighting for his life and still is. I found him treatment for his ridiculously evil and aggressive blood disorder that came out of nowhere in Mexico. I thought I was doing the right thing. Come to find out, I wasn’t. I ended up having to rush him across the border, 4 hours away to a US critical care animal hospital. He’s not improving. He’s getting worse. He’s been given a slim chance of survival. His treatment, if he survives, is long, complicated and expensive. I can’t afford it, but I’m doing it. He deserves to live. It’s not his time. I’m doing my best to stay positive but it’s getting increasingly hard when every phone call and medical update is a discouraging one. I can’t lose my boy. I just can’t. I’m used to being the fixer. I can’t fix this. I can’t make him better.
I’m in the town I used to live in. Literally knowing hundreds of people (and 2 family members) and yet I’m alone. All alone staying in a shitty cheap hotel near the Animal hospital and feeling very sorry for myself. I’ve gotten calls and texts and have a hundred people supporting me from afar, yet no one is here to hold my hand. No one is here to dry my tears. No one is here to help me through this. It’s weird and has me second guessing the friendships I have. I’m falling apart and am doing it alone.
In a moment of weakness I called Mr. OoT in the hopes of heaven knows what. That he would empathize and make me feel better. That he would support me. That he would focus on me and understand what I’m going through. He didn’t. He can’t. He tried, but it’s just not who he is. In an attempt to try and take my mind off of my beloved doggie, he said some things I had waited to hear for a year and a half. He apologized. He said I deserve better. He said he realized that what he had been doing for the last year was punishing me for not being the person he wanted me to be. That he never really wanted to be with me. That we never had a chance. That he was intentionally sabotaging us and himself and pushing me away on purpose. I knew he was doing that and yet I let it continue. I continued to fight for us. Apparently I was the only one doing so. Do I believe all he claims in regards to never wanting to be with me? No, I don’t. I think he’s trying to convince himself of that. I know better. I just no longer care.
Damn this post is all over the board. I’m a wreck. Not because of Mr. OoT, but because of my dog. I sit by the phone waiting for updates. I have worn the same clothes for 2 days (mainly because I literally left town with nothing but my dogs, their things and the clothes on my back). If anyone believe in prayers or healing vibes or has any words of encouragement, I would appreciate all you can spare. I’m not handling this well at all. Thanks for listening…..