I put my cat to sleep. She was 11. This was the Monday after Thanks Giving, after spending all of TG with her sick and knowing this was her last week.

It was suggested I write about my grief. How difficult it has been for me to get used to being without her and how I feel about making that decision to end her life. I think that’s a bit gross, though. I think its…My pain just isn’t something I want to share with everyone in the world.

I don’t like to share my emotions when they’re so messy. I don’t have the right words to convey what I mean, or how I’m thinking, or the processes behind it. For the most part, I’m just really depressed; fending off thoughts of jumping off bridges or digging my cat up just to touch her face again.

I get she was just a cat, but I still can’t stop feeling this way. She was with me 11 years. She was obnoxious and horrible to everyone else and I knew that it wasn’t possible to rehome her. I was the one she loved, so I couldn’t just die and leave her. I was going through some terrible times in the last few years of her life; unemployment, extreme depression, and no insurance. She helped me keep going.

The one who suggested I share this stuff said it would be real. I’m wondering: Real… or just raw.

I feel like sharing pain in this way is like selling snacks at a public execution. People are drawn to the macabre. I know they’re not here to laugh at me, but they’re here for the spectacle, watching someone already unstable implode. My pain isn’t for other people’s entertainment. All of this might wander it’s way into one of my books. Possibly Shaxia, but as it is, I just can’t focus on much right now. However, actually talking about my depression and such is just… difficult. I didn’t have a terrible childhood or life or anything and part of me thinks I’ve no right to feel as terrible as I do on a daily basis. This is how I am, though, and it really isn’t anyone else’s problem, or business. I try to be positive. I force myself to be positive and find something nice to say to people daily. I push aside the bad thoughts because hating myself doesn’t accomplish anything. I’m not punishing anyone. I’m just rolling around in my own filth.


I miss my kitty.

I got a kitten about a week ago. She’s so adorable and she makes the pain slightly easier to deal with. I’ve got someone new that relies on me. I’m actually kind of excited to go home from work so I can see her.

By K.E. Ireland

Self-Published Author, Artist and Entrepreneur

One thought on “Grief”