A year later..

Oh where, oh where can my baby be?
The Lord took her away from me
She's gone to heaven, so I've got to be good
So I can see my baby when I leave this world

It was a little after 5pm, one year ago today, I got the text from my mom.
"Maggie's not doing well."
I asked her what she meant. She replied "you know what I mean."
I immediately shot out of my chair at my full-time temp job,
which I had just started a week prior.
Our shift was done at 6pm, and god forbid you logged out a second beforehand,
But I went up to the lead person in my department.
"I need to leave. I just got a text from home. It's an emergency."
She barely had the chance to say "Okaayy.." before I was out the door.
I don't even think I turned my computer off.

I got into my car, shaking uncontrollably and completely numb.
"Please. Let her hang on. I need to say goodbye. I need to. She can't go yet."
I repeated, prayed, screamed at times. For the whole hour and a half commute home
That's the only thought I let myself think:
I just need to get home.

My dog Maggie was laying in the backyard, on her side and breathing heavily.
She couldn't get up.
I asked for details from my mother but other than that, no one else had my attention.
I laid by her side. Eventually, my dad and I decided she needed to come inside and so we carried her.

 I talked to her. I held her. I offered her her favorite treats, even whipped cream. She denied them all. She wouldn't drink. She wouldn't pee.
My friend Allie, who works at a vet's office, came over to take her paw prints.
My boyfriend, Mike came over. We made a makeshift dog bed for her out of blankets.
I slept on the couch nearby that night.
My mom asked Mike to go outside and dig a hole for her.
 And there was absolutely nothing I could fucking do but hold my dying best friend.

We called a mobile vet the next day, to put her to sleep.
 We carried her back outside, to lay in the sunshine that she always loved.
It was a perfect, sunny day.
She kept trying to walk, to go under the stairs to the deck.
She wanted to go there to die quietly and alone,
but of course she was too loved for us to grant her that wish.

My aunt Jackie was there, so was Mike,
I kept trying to sing "you are my sunshine"
and I laid by her side, holding her,
as she took her last breaths
in that sunshine she so loved.


In every sense, Maggie was my therapy dog.
She came into my life shortly after I  began having severe depression.
She was there for every boyfriend, every job, every tear.
She knew when I was upset. She would come up to me and flop right down,
pretty much saying "Cuddle me, it's okay!"
She would put smiles on my face when no one else could.
Her "Maggie hugs" were the best. Her bubbly personality brought me to life.
She was my best friend. My soulmate. My "spirit animal". My therapist.
And even Mike, who I plan on spending the rest of my life with,
knew he was second place.
NO ONE came before Maggie. No one.
I said for years, "Maggie, you're not allowed to leave. Okay? You need to live to be 20. Or older. Okay?"
Because I knew that living without her was totally unthinkable.

Now, the only problem that comes with loving someone that deeply
is that if you lose them...you will grieve just as deeply.
I remember thinking, over and over afterwards,
"HOW DO I LIVE WITHOUT HER? How do I cope? How do I do this?"
What. the. fuck. now???
Even looking back now brings me a sense of panicked sadness. How did I get through this past year??

The answer? You literally have to take things one day at a time.
At first, you can't even think that largely. You have to take it one minute at a time. One task. One chore.
Then you do another thing, and another. You go to your job because you have to. You take care of the things you have to. You eat so that you can take your medicine. You go to bed, often NyQuil or Benadryl induced, because you have to.
Boom. You got through a day. Congratulations.
Now you do it again.
And again, and again, and again.
I've also gotten very good at pushing my grief to the back of my head.
I can't talk about her, really. Even after a year.
I can't look at too many pictures.
Again....scar tissue. These things open up the wounds and make them fresh again.
And the terror of those fresh wounds make you really scared.
So, you push it to the back of your head when you can. And get through day, after day, after day.

Grieving becomes a part of you. It really doesn't go anywhere. People like to say "It gets easier with time", and in a sense, sure. Really, you get used to it. It envelopes you, and becomes a second skin. But that doesn't make it easy to carry.

With deep love often comes deep pain,
but you were worth every single second.
I love you, Maggie.

So now she's gone, even though I hold her tight
I lost the love of my life that night..

Just keep swimming.

A few weeks ago, my boyfriend got the news that his younger cousin had committed suicide.She was 21 years old, beautiful, talented, and loved.
And I witnessed the pinnacle of suffering: her family devastated, mourning a life that would never fully blossom, asking each other "Why? She was so young. She could have been a model. I just don't understand." The viewing tore through me, not just because the man I love and his family was suffering, but because I understood her suffering as well without ever meeting her once. I wondered how long she had suffered and what must have happened to push her so far.

~

Recently, I saw the movie "Finding Dory" *SPOILER ALERT* and loved it in its entirety. However, one scene hit me hard: When Dory receives the news that her parents are 'gone', and she thinks that they died, Dory goes into a panicked state and her vision, thoughts, and comprehension blurs. And then she finds herself alone, talking to herself and trying to console herself.
She's in the open ocean and sees kelp, which she knows is a safer place to be. "Okay. Kelp is better. Let's go there." She goes to the kelp.
"Oh, look. Sand. I like sand." She swims down and touches the squishy sand, while her thoughts are a million miles away.
It's then that she sees a shell on the ocean floor and says, "Shells. I like shells." She remembers the role that shells played with her parents, and begins to follow a trail of them.
Then she notices that there's a LOT of them. Several trails of shells.
They lead her to her parents.

My point is: When all hope feels lost,
when you can see no way out,
when you feel like your life is over and needs to end,
ground yourself.
Find something you enjoy.
Find something that once made you smile.
Look at notes, photos, cards.
Take baby steps: Take a shower, or get a cup of coffee. Have some chocolate. Wash the tears off of your face.
Keep it simple.
Count to ten first if you have to. Take a few deep breaths first if you have to.  
Hug your animals. Open the window to let the breeze in.
If you can, find the courage within yourself to call a friend.
Ground yourself, like Dory did. 
Do something, anything, to keep yourself alive. To keep yourself distracted. To keep yourself here.

Because while I cannot tell you that your pain will go away,
I can tell you that the sun will rise again.
I will tell you that sometimes a new day brings new opportunities. It even sometimes brings happiness, smiles, laughter. But you'll never know if you don't wake up to see it for yourself.
I know how you feel. I know what it's like to want it all to end. I know what it's like to stand on the ledge and not care about the outcome.
But I also know what it's like to wake up the next day and slowly, grudgingly, continue on with life.
Take Dory's advice. Find something to cling to, to keep yourself afloat until you can get help.
And above all....Just keep swimming.