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Grief Healing Discussion Groups

Dmiller2554

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  • Your relationship to the individual who died
    owner
  • Date of Death
    6/8/2017
  • Name/Location of Hospice if they were involved:
    NA

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  • Your gender
    Female
  • Location (city, state)
    Ellicott City, MD

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  1. My yellow lab, who would have been 2 years old next week, was hit by a car. I had gotten off of work and picked him up from puppy day camp. On the way home, he was hanging his head out the window with a huge smile on his face just like he did every day. I had to hit my brakes faster than usual due to a car stopping short in front of me. Murphy got scared and his reaction was to jump out my window. The second he hit the ground, a car was right there. They didn't even have 1 second to try and swerve or hit their brakes. Neither of them meant for this to happen. I literally pulled into someone's front yard and ran to Murphy. As I got close, I saw him pull his left arm towards him and he yelped. I can still hear that yelp today, 3 weeks and 1 day later. I hugged him and he was not blinking. I checked for a pulse and was relieved to find one, but he was not moving. I started giving him CPR and yelling at cars to call 911. The driver of the car got out and kept saying "he's okay, he's okay." No, Murphy wasn't okay. I stopped CPR and hugged him, and I felt his body relax and fade away. I knew I lost him at that moment. A police officer showed up and as he was walking towards me he said on his radio "it's just a dog." I began screaming at him to help me to where he said "ma'am, there's nothing I can do," not even coming near Murphy. 3 people who stopped helped pick him up and get him in my car, yelling at me to get to a vet. As I pulled away, my brother called that he was right behind me. I pulled over and he jumped in, sitting in the back seat with Murphy. I drove the shoulder in rush-hour traffic down 2 highways to get to an emergency vet. I was pulled over but kept going. As I got to the vet and the techs ran out to my car, they confirmed what I knew was true but did not want to hear- Murphy did not have a pulse. I went inside and felt numb. I couldn't cry. I felt like I was going to throw up. This couldn't be real. 3 weeks and 1 day later, it still doesn't feel real. Murphy did not deserve for this to happen. He didn't mean for it to happen. I have a tremendous amount of guilt and "what if's." If I left work 1 minute earlier, this wouldn't have happened. If I drove 2mph slower, Murphy would still be here. If I had the window up half way, my best friend would still be with me. I can't help but think that this was my fault. I have not been able to go 1 day without crying. This is 100% the worst thing I have ever witnessed and experienced in my life. I can't seem to shake the flashbacks and replaying every second of those 10 minutes in my head. I would not wish this pain on anyone. I spent the first 5 days in bed, not talking to anyone, not eating, not living. The next 3 days back to work were just filled with tears as everyone approached me with their "I'm sorry" hugs. Exactly 1 week after I lost Murphy, my Dad convinced me to go to therapy. I already have anxiety, and now it is tripled. The anxiety, depression, guilt, sadness, anger.. it's too much for me to cope with. I have never believed in therapy, but I knew I needed guidance. I have now been 3 times. Last weekend was the first time I drove other than to and from work. I drove to my boyfriend's 30 minutes away and had a breakdown the second I got there. I am truly scared driving. I stood outside for about 10 minutes to get myself together before I could go inside and see his dog. I was surprisingly happy to see her. The next day, I drove my car home. It was the first time I drove my car since I lost Murphy. I did not cry, but when I got home I had a raging headache and was very nauseous. Every time I get in or out of my car, I can't help but look at that back window and see Murphy's face. Last Sunday I went out with friends for the first time. I had to walk away twice to cry, but overall I did have fun, and I laughed. If someone asked me am I doing okay, I would say no, I'm not okay. I'm broken. I'm traumatized. But when I really sit and think, I am doing better than I was the day after 'it' happened. I take steps every day to be happy again. I am trying. Sometimes I need to be left alone, and sometimes I need to cry, but deep down I know I am trying. I have been told by many people, including my therapist, to write down my thoughts and feelings. Being an English and writing major I thought this would be easy, but I could not bring myself to do it. Not until I read OptionB and joined this website. I would appreciate any words of wisdom that anyone has to offer. Here is my handsome, beloved Murphy:
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