Hello Firing Range. We meet again, old friend. It's been a while since we've last talked about something this terrible.
My cat died. I don't know if I talked much about my cat, but my cat was like... the one good thing in my life besides my younger brother. And Monday September 12th was one of the worst days of my entire life for me.
It's been more than an entire week but I still am feeling like shit so I'm going to talk about it.
My day started out fine. My friend called me in tears but I helped her through that and promised to come see her if I was ever in that area.
All is fine until I get a text message from my mother. The cat is lying down and can't get up. They're at the veterinarian right now and she's under an oxygen mask. I can't describe my feelings when I got this text.
I almost instantly panicked and could feel myself tearing up. I haven't cried in a while, I'm an adult for god's sake but this cat is just..... so precious to me. Because this isn't my family's cat. It's my cat. This cat is extremely antisocial. When we got the cat years ago, nobody made any effort to try and connect with the cat, except me. I spent days and weeks hanging around the cat, making the cat comfortable with my presence. And the cat warmed up to me. She followed me around, slept in my bed at night, and spent most of the day in my room around me. The cat actually grew to love me just like I loved this cat. She means so much to me... just imagining anything bad happening can get a reaction out of me. All my level-headedness and emotional stability go out the window when my baby cat is the subject. I honestly don't know if I care more for my family or this cat. Imagine what that makes me as far as human beings go(probably not a very good one). But I don't decide the strength of my emotional bonds, it happens naturally.
My first reaction was "omg no no no" and "Im coming down there right now". My university is a bit more than an hour away from my house, and I live on campus. I was literally seconds away from leaving when I got another text.
The cat has cancer. Tumors in her lower stomach that are somewhat common among cats with feline leukemia. I'm told to prepare for the worst. And this is the point where I hate everything and actually break down. My mother puts the doctor on the phone to talk to me and he tells me the situation. The cat is in pain and is going to die. She's suffering because the illness has finally caught up with her instead of staying in its dormant state like it has been the last few years.
My mother tells me they can wait for me to get here to say goodbye, but honestly, I couldn't. I can't have my cat suffering because of my, so I give the doctor permission to put her down. This wasn't a hard decision to make, it's simple whether to have my cat suffering for longer for my sake or not, but it was still so painful.
I wished I had never gone to college. That way I could've spent more time with my cat. The ONE worry I had before going back to college this year was if my cat would be taken care of. My mom doesn't care at all for the cat and refuses to do anything. I made my brother swear to, and he'd been doing an excellent job. The cat doesn't like him much because when we first got the cat he chased her around. The cat doesn't mind him now, but doesn't care for him all that much either. But he wants to have a good relationship with the cat and cares very much.
I had to talk to him on the phone, both of us crying and tell him it isn't his fault. He felt so terrible and was saying sorry over and over but... it's not his fault. It's my mother's and father's.
I feel like complete shit. The rest of the day was awful for me. I feel like a chunk of me has been ripped out and will never be filled. I don't know if I can ever go home again, see my room again with the knowledge that the cat won't be there anymore, because she's dead, and I'll never see her again. I never got to say goodbye. I couldn't be there. And I'll never see my baby cat again. I'm rambling I know.
Now it's times like this when I ask.... why me? Why do I have to keep suffering? How come every time something in my life seems to go right, something else will make it ten times worse? Was my mentally disabled older sister not enough? I have to lose more?! What's next? My younger brother? My mother? My dog?! WHEN DO I NOT HAVE TO SUFFER ANYMORE. WHEN IS IT ENOUGH?!?! I'm in so much fucking pain over this I can't think straight at times. I try not to think about it but it doesn't make it any less real.
Some people say I just have a bad outlook so when things happen I react worse than normal people would. This is probably true, but that doesn't mean anything. Since the school year started I have been happier than I have ever been until now! I was busy, holy shit am I busy nowadays, but I was happy. I've met lots of new friends, been around a bit, getting a new job, all sorts of things.
I should have known my happiness couldn't last. It NEVER does. And this had to happen TWO days before my birthday, essentially making sure I couldn't enjoy my birthday. Now if anyone reading this says 'Are you really so arrogant as to think the universe is against you? Why would it bother?' and the answer, my friends, is blow me.
Of course not, you idiots. Of course I don't think that. Although I'd like to remind you that pretty much all Christians believe that a divine being created the earth and all life on it for them and that this supreme being wants to have a personal relationship with them. So... am I really the arrogant one here?
Oh speaking of which, I'm going to rant about religion now, because after I went through this I made the stupid mistake of asking a pastor for an explanation. I needed guidance about why I'm going through this. He told me it was a test of faith, and as long as I kept the faith I'd be okay in the end. (Honestly I should've known better than to ask a fucking Christian. Should've gone to a synagogue or mosque, but the answer would probably be something similar.)
....Hahaha, I get it. A test of faith. Well, I almost killed this man on the spot. I didn't, obviously, but I was furious. For the record, I'm agnostic. I don't know if a god exists and don't care if one does. I WISH I was an Atheist. Ohhhh I wish I could fully believe that there is nothing out there. But belief isn't a conscious decision. And unfortunately I can't completely say that I'm sure there isn't anything out there.
However, I do know this. If there is a god out there, he is no god worth worshipping. This god is an evil narcissistic psychopathic ASSHOLE. And man do I hate narcissists.
A test of faith?! Are you fucking kidding me!!! You mean that God is doing all this to see if I'll believe in him?! Okay, first of all, this makes no sense. God knows everything. He already knows what I'm going to think. Secondly, let's say I pass this test of faith. SO FUCKING WHAT?! Now I get to believe in god, which is fine and all except for the fact that my sister and precious cat are STILL DEAD. So this test of faith is a lose-lose situation.
So yeah, you Christians who think you are high and mighty. You worship a god who's responsible for this kind of thing. And I know you're thinking "why would God stop this, it happens all the time?" to which I say it's pretty easy to say that when you aren't the one suffering.
I'm so sick of hearing about how great god is. You really want to worship a mass murderer? Fine, fuck you then. To the rest of you Fairy Tale-Believers, if we meet and I find out your Christian, don't worry, I won't hate you. I won't act differently towards you based on your beliefs. But I'll judge you.
Ugh, I can't believe I turned this into a rant about religion. I apologize, I'm just sick of everything, and hearing Christians continuously going around harassing people based on what they think is right is atrocious. They think they're so great and don't even realize they're one of the most judgmental, hateful, and misguided peoples on the fucking planet.
You may have noticed I never addressed my cat by name. Well... it's complicated. When we adopted the cat we gave her a temporary name, Mittens. But we sort of left it for years and then I realized it wasn't supposed to be her name, so I stopped calling her it and just started calling her "Cat" or "the cat" or something. We never did find a name for her, but it didn't really matter. She fell into my heart without a name, but she didn't need one for me. I knew who she was and what she meant to me, and that didn't have a name to put on it.
It was awkward whenever someone asked "Oh what's her name?" though.
So... that's the end of my hateful rant. I miss my cat. I'll never see her again. I'm depressed. End of fucking story. If you read this whole thing, I thank you for listening and understanding my feelings. I'm so lost... I don't know where to go from here.