Last night I laid in bed snuggled with my cat, Clover. I was thinking how I can’t believe I’ve kept them alive, happy and healthy for so long. Then I started thinking about how old she and Gizmo are. And I went down the dark rabbit hole of seeing her lifeless body laying on the bed. This is a very real fear for me. These two are my unofficial therapy cats and the thought of losing them cripples me. I’m sitting here crying just typing this. I know death is inevitable but I can’t imagine life without them. I already know I’ll need to be either heavily sedated for who knows how long or even worse I’ll need to be hospitalized.
I can’t even get started on the constant fear of losing Josh. I don’t think I will be able to handle it. I can’t go down that road or I’m gonna pass out from a bad panic attack.
All three of them are absolutely fine. But this haunts me daily. I hate how my brain does this. I try so hard to be present and enjoy every second I get with them but it is SO hard. I need a sedative now. I’m right back in it. I thought getting it out would help but nope. Gonna take my meds and try and regain control.
Borderline 