(no subject)
The past few weeks I keep having a recurring dream that, out of the blue, I realize I own a kitten that I've completely fogotten about for at least a month or so. I also realize that this whole time the kitten has been trapped in a room that nobody ever enters, without food and water, and has undoubtedly starved to death. And I'm too afraid to finally enter the room for fear of finding the remains of the kitten that died because of my neglect.
I always wake up crying.
I have no doubt that these dreams are the result of my immense feelings of guilt over Mr. Cake's death that have yet to lessen even after eight months. He died alone in the night, shut in a small bathroom because he was sick and peeing all over everything, and because I trusted that the medicine the vet prescribed would help him get better, and because I didn't know how sick he really was.
I should have taken him to the vet sooner. I should have cared more about his comfort than the state of my stupid furniture. I should have stayed with him that night. I should have been there for him. He was the sweetest cat ever and he deserved better than to die alone.
I thought he was asleep when I opened the bathroom door that morning. I knelt down to pet him and he was cold and stiff and I thought I would die right there. That moment haunts me. I've tried to block it out just so I can move on and stop grieving, and the result is that it's now haunting my dreams.
So this is my confession. I don't expect absolution and I don't think my feelings of guilt will ever go away. But maybe after finally confronting my feelings for what they are after all this time... maybe at least the dreams will stop.
I always wake up crying.
I have no doubt that these dreams are the result of my immense feelings of guilt over Mr. Cake's death that have yet to lessen even after eight months. He died alone in the night, shut in a small bathroom because he was sick and peeing all over everything, and because I trusted that the medicine the vet prescribed would help him get better, and because I didn't know how sick he really was.
I should have taken him to the vet sooner. I should have cared more about his comfort than the state of my stupid furniture. I should have stayed with him that night. I should have been there for him. He was the sweetest cat ever and he deserved better than to die alone.
I thought he was asleep when I opened the bathroom door that morning. I knelt down to pet him and he was cold and stiff and I thought I would die right there. That moment haunts me. I've tried to block it out just so I can move on and stop grieving, and the result is that it's now haunting my dreams.
So this is my confession. I don't expect absolution and I don't think my feelings of guilt will ever go away. But maybe after finally confronting my feelings for what they are after all this time... maybe at least the dreams will stop.