I would like to put aside for a moment my usual meta-fiction drivel bullshit, if I may, and actually talk about something. No flowery language or fictionalized accounts. Just what happened and how I felt.
On thursday morning my mother and I had to put down our dog, Lily. She was a sweet, beautiful dog and she had to die. On wednesday morning she broke her spine and lost the use of the lower half of her body. So on thursday morning when I received a tear-filled phone call from my mom I rushed to the vet so that I could be with her to make the decision and hold my dog one last time as it was carried out. At the risk of sounding over-dramatic, it was horrible. I can't get the thought out of my mind. I can't forget her shaking in my arms as the nurse injected her. With a whimper she tried to pull her paw away but the vet held on and before she even pulled the shot out Lily fell still and lay down. I haven't been able to get that feeling out of my hands. Since then I've been obsessively touching everything I pass: tree trunks and low hanging branches, mailboxes and fire hydrants, fences and brick walls. At work I held on to a pan straight from the oven, hoping to burn the memory out of my fingertips but it just won't go.
God damn it, I'm just not emotionally stable enough for this kinda shit right now. I mean I've already been on a downward spiral for awhile again. The lack of sleep, the loss of appetite, the aloofness. This all sounds familiar right? Thursday night I was so frustrated I just punched and punched punched until my skin peeled off and my knuckles bled. And oh, the pain that came was just delightful. I've missed it so much. I'm not going back to my dark days, I'm not, but its very nice to visit right now. The death of my poor, sweet Lily is just the catalyst I needed too.
So now all I can think of doing is what I always do in this situation: run away. So thats what I'm going to do. I'm going to escape.
No comments:
Post a Comment