PTSD over Medhia’s death?
I can’t stop pacing; I can’t get the two images out of my mind:
1. of Medhia dying, her lifeless body and the way she felt as her soul left her body
2. the 2:15 a.m. hour-long attempt to pee that ended with her flinging herself around the litterbox in mental anguish
If I could get rid of those two images, I would be doing well.
Throughout the day I have noticed my right hand moving in a scratching/petting type motion as I think about her.
I’m still sitting down to pee. The ritual started more than a decade ago. I would be standing doing my thing, and Medhia would claw at my leg for attention. It just evolved to me sitting to pee and petting her at the same time. The petting made bathroom time fun.
There are definitely fewer tears today. My overall state is slightly better.
One of my friends mentioned to me today that I should better than I have in months. That’s probably true; I cried more and more frequently over the last four weeks.
Throughout the day there have been certain noises that were sure Medhia moving around.
Starting about 3 p.m. today I got a few more emails/texts/FB messages from people offering condolences and telling me how much the adored Medhia. I’ve only told two people, and Medhia is getting more love than some humans who have died.
A few years ago I went to a friends funeral, and I was one of four people there, two of whom were family members.
Trying to clean my room, I came across one of her nesting spots. I sat and stared at it. Part of me wanted to collect her hair and keep it. While the nest is still there, the fur got flushed down the toilet. The symbology was helpful.
I’m moving into the time of night that is difficult. It’s about 5:30 p.m. and dark. Everything is quiet, and I’m alone.
The productivity today has been insufficient. I find myself playing a bunch of Xbox games in an attempt to distract me.
It’s PTSD, nor am I making light of the seriousness of the disorder. Several of my friends suffer from it. However, it is the closest words I have to how I’m feeling at the moment.
Usually, I try to answer all notes, but I’m just not ready to go back through my diary. I don’t want to see the headlines or read what’s happened. I’m still living it.
To those whom I haven’t replied to, I will.
MJG
“for I have sworn upon the altar of god eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.” ~ Thomas Jefferson
I’m so sorry. Don’t worry about replying to people, we understand. We don’t leave notes to get a reply, but to show you we care & you’re not alone. I think it is traumatic, and the memories are a normal response to trauma. PTSD is when that normal reaction in the days and weeks that follow doesn’t fade in intensity or intrusiveness I think. For now: it’s normal. When our cat died, Buddy. I found him very ill around dawn and we had to rush him to the vet. I had only just passed my driving test, a few days before, my partner, Buddy was his cat, was too distraught to drive and Buddy was seriously ill. I drove way,way above the speed limit through country roads and coast roads to the emergency vet, but Buddy was gone, though he still breathed. J couldn’t stay with him, when it happened. So I held him and a while time afterward, I couldn’t think of anything else apart from holding him tight that last time. Every empty space when I was alone working from home in the day. Every time I got in the car. Gradually it faded. & I remembered him being well instead. It’s natural to think about it, I’m sure. It’s love. It does hurt less, eventually I promise. I promise you will remember her alive and well again more often than you remember the pain. Be kind to yourself.
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Give yourself some grace to grieve, friend. Its all still so fresh and painful. Its okay to feel these feels.
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