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Found 6 results

  1. I just don't know how to cope with what I'm feeling right now. I've dealt with severe depression before but this is a sadness and guilt like I've never known. At 7:00 last night, my puppy, my best friend, was struck and killed by a car. But I feel like it's entirely my fault. His favorite thing in the world is to go on car rides. My brother and I were going to get something to eat, so I decided to bring him along. He was his happiest self in the car, sticking his face out the window with the biggest grin on his face. I even took a video of him dated just a few minutes before he died, which is attached to this post. Usually when I get out of the car when he's inside, I make sure he's sitting and staying before I open the door. This is the one time I didn't, because he was in the backseat so I thought there was no way he could get out. But I was wrong. He jumped through the crack between my seat and the door, and before I knew it he'd hit the ground running. He'd run off a million times before, so we were sure we would catch him. He was even just out of my arms' reach at one point but I just couldn't snag him. My brother almost had him and ran after him, but my dog tried to escape and ran right into the road. It's this part that really kills me. I didn't see the car hit him, but my brother did. My brother said the car hit my dog in the back and spun him around, and that my dog made eye contact with my brother and the look on his face said "Help me," like he knew he'd made a mistake. And then he just kind of laid down in the road. My brother said that face will haunt him forever. The driver didn't even slow down. My puppy had never been out in traffic before. He didn't know the damage a car could do. My brother stopped another car from hitting him (what is wrong with people, STOP or at least SLOW DOWN), picked him up, and carried him back to me. I was in shock. My puppy was still moving a little bit, kicking his legs, trying to breathe. I called 911 - I didn't know what else to do - and begged them to please please please please send whatever they could right now. They could only send a police officer, and by the time he got there, my puppy was gone. I watched him die. I just kept petting him and telling him what a good dog he was and how much I loved him. I don't know when exactly he died so I hope to God that he heard me and that he died knowing how loved and cared for he was. I closed his mouth. I tried to close his eyes but they wouldn't close. I called my parents and they came and met us. We weren't even home, so we had to wrap his body in a blanket and drive him 20 minutes back to our house. We laid him on our porch swing while my dad and brother dug his grave. I couldn't leave his side. I just held him and stroked his fur and sobbed and kept telling him over and over how much I loved him and, "You're such a good boy." I was numb watching my dad put him in the ground. Then I was completely lost. I didn't want to eat, sleep, watch TV, anything. I'm completely distraught. An hour ago, my brother and I dug back down to his grave and laid his favorite toys, a few treats, and a bunch of Cheez-Its (his favorite human food) down in his grave. We listed a bunch of things we'd miss about him and said a prayer over his grave once we laid the sod back on top. I truly don't know how I'm going to move on from this. Or the memory of this. Or the guilt. This dog helped me through so much. I've had him since I was 10 and I'm 22 now. He helped me through depression, anxiety, suicide attempts, broken hearts, abusive parents, everything. He was so innocent and happy and deserved nothing but goodness. He must have been so scared and in pain, and that's what kills me the most. This little pure beam of sunshine having to know such pain and agony. I need to know that dogs go to heaven, that he's happy and healthy and that I'll see him again and be able to apologize to him and tell him I love him and feel his unconditional love again. Imagining the alternative makes me want to die. My puppy was 12 years old, but he still had all the energy of a puppy so it doesn't really feel like he lived that long. I suppose it's of some comfort that he never had to experience the limits that old age would have put on his bod, but it just hurts so much to imagine all the potential years he had left to live, all the memories we could have made. It's so surreal to think that just a few hours ago he was licking me and I was petting him and he was running around the house and happy riding in the car with the wind through his fur and now he's dead in the ground. The pain is unbearable. Can anyone please give me some advice on how to go through this? Or just give me some peace of mind? Do you believe that dogs go to heaven and that I'll see him again? I can't stop thinking about all the things I could have done differently to prevent his death. I feel like I've sobbed my body weight in tears and I just don't know how I'm going to be able to face tomorrow. IMG_1537.MP4
  2. Years have gone by since my life changed forever. I am now medicated and in therapy. My family has it with my obsession with ferrets, perhaps I am trying to fill in a gap in my life. I still will not turn off my torch for my Chinook, they can't make me for I will never betray his memory. I am getting better I feel and have done my last memorial video of Chinook, a milestone in my ongoing grief, 5 years later. This is for you my Chinook. Your life is being celebrated and I pray I will see you in Heaven and you will remember me. My Nookie
  3. Hello My Name is Shannon I am new to the forum. I lost my significant other of 6 years only 4 months ago. We shared 4 children together and life is just not the same. I cant figure out why I am numb, frozen and slowing down. Things have gotten very hard, I truly don't want to express how hard. The pain I feel is crazy but I keep striving to be positive and to also find a new identity in this process. Nothing is the same. I started a blog only a week ago called grievingd.com dedicated to him in hopes of finding other women(or anyone) who has lost their partner because I feel very alone in my battle I wanted to express my feelings truthfully and freely amongst individuals in hopes to connect and help heal. I lost Damian to murder so connecting with people who understand that part as well were my hopes. Id like to hear other stories and also have the wisdom of others as well. Hopefully this site can give me this , but I would love for other women to connect and share their stories as well and hear me vent lol...
  4. Speaking the Pain I woke up this morning without any real motivation for the day. I stared at the ceiling, then pushed myself out of bed. I felt longing, aching, vacancy. I went downstairs and sat on the couch and read a little. One of the things I read is that if you present yourselves to others as being "alright," they will be comforted and you will turn to stone. What you experience must be felt and acknowledged. So I sat down on the couch, I closed my eyes and just started breathing. Every breath contained pain and loss. I wanted to hear Chloe's footsteps, her voice, her laughter, her hug. I just said what I was feeling, that I felt so sad without her, I didn't know how to make it to the end of this life. Then the tears came. After that I just sat and talked to her. I talked about letting her physical presence go. I said I could let her go but I still needed her in my life. It is hard to be in this place of no control, no power. It just happened and no button I push can bring her back. It's just done. Honesty and tears released the aching from my heart, giving me a renewed motivation for the day.
  5. Memorial weekend will mark the 6 month mark since Dad's death. A bit of an ironic "holiday" this year I think. As we'll be trying to visit all our other families' graves we'll also be getting ready to have Dad's headstone finally put on the grave. That seems to be like a final marker for me at least-so far all that marks his "spot" is a metal butterfly garden stake I put there & the broken sod; sometimes I could drive to that cemetary to visit other graves & pretend his didn't exist so it must not be true, right? I'd thought I was doing Sooo good with this grief stuff, even thinking that I didn't really need the very mild anti depressant the dr. gave me. Nope. Now I am to the point where I am going to look for a counselor. I have developed a lot of anger towards people since some of my closest friends have shown that they're not good dealing with "people like me"-I STILL keep getting told to "quit talking about your Dad, he's dead. Is there anything really to talk about?" by a "close friend" & co-worker I even considered a brother. He even told me since I came back to work the day after the funeral that it couldn't have been that bad if I came back that soon. Maybe I shouldn't have gone back that week but we depend on every dime & hour of my paycheck. I'm dealing with so much stress & issues at work that there is anger from that. Mom's has declined to the point where we are discussing other living options & knowing that in the next few months we will be selling Mom & Dad's house of almost 50 years & moving her & dealing with that. My only daughter gets married next summer & she wanted her Grandpa there so much-that's the one thing she'd ever dreamed of: dancing with Grandpa at her wedding. She & her fiance even went to the grave [how I have come to HATE that word!] & "told Grandpa we have to do this without him". I WANTED MY DAD THERE to see his favorite grand child walk down that aisle. Even as he recovered from his stroke he'd tell me "I know Allie's going to be a bride someday and I'll be there to walk her down to meet that boy.I promise you." My parents helped me raise her until she was 6 & out of all 18 grandchildren she was his favorite. I still cry every night.I relive that whole last week constantly-I am so afraid I'm forgetting the sound of his voice & the touch of his hand. And I'm angry at myself for not knowing my Dad better when he was alive-I'm learning more about him from my siblings, stuff I never even knew about him & I get so mad at myself for not knowing more-why didn't I push him to talk to me more?!! with me he was quiet & would show me things more & tell me he liked just sitting without saying anything why the hell didn't I make him talk? Why was I so d*** selfish to just accept his not talking?!!!!! I was his last daughter-I should have done more!!!! I don't tell my husband any of this-he has to listen enough to my venting about my job & dealing with Mom's situation. This is MY pain. I just want him back. I want my Mom back to before the dementia invaded her body. I want to hold his hand one more time. And I thought all this grief stuff would be over by now.
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