It’s been a rough week for my household. I think the other cats have finally realized that Peanut isn’t coming home. Wookie has been a little sh*t, Banshee has been mopey, and Calli has been biting whenever she can.
It has gotten a little better over the last 2 days, but they are still settling.

And me? Well… I thought I was adjusting relatively well.
Then last night struck.

I don’t know if I was just uber vulnerable because of a recent temperature change, or if my hormones are all wonky. But last night was absolutely hellish. I couldn’t fall asleep, every time I closed my eyes I could see her on that vet table breathing her last breath. Because of the tube in her nose, her eyes never closed. It was very surreal in real life, and in the “dream”  it was heartbreaking. I kept asking everyone “Why aren’t her eyes closed?” and “Are you sure? She’s still looking at me.”
No one could or would give me an answer.

I had a mini-breakdown.

I sat up in bad and meditated a while. I needed to clear my head and relax.
So I tried to go to a quiet, happy place.

I don’t really know how long it took, but eventually I floated to an open room. I say open, but it was really more comfortable – there weren’t any doors or windows or anything. But it was spacious and quiet and clean. The carpet was soft and squishy. I could here music – it was my mp3 player.

After a while I wondered why I was in the room. Why not my happy little field.
A soft, masculine voice spoke through what I can only equate to an intercom system. He told me that this was what my mind looked like right now because I was trying to isolate myself.

It’s amazing the stuff we hide from ourselves, huh?

He told me that when I was ready to stop blaming myself and let go, I could leave.
Great. I locked myself in a friggin’ institution.

I sat around for a little bit, playing with my hair and running my fingers through the plush carpeting (no, that is not a euphemism). At least when I mentally lock myself in a padded room, I use only the finest quality floor-coverings. 😀

At some point I asked the nice man what I could do.
After a while, he responded with, “It isn’t your fault.”
And I teared up a little.
“It really isn’t. You cannot blame yourself. You know it was the right decision.”
At this point I’m full-on crying. I must have gone on for a good ten minutes… not that I have ever really been able to keep track of time in there.
I think I actually cried myself to sleep in real-life. And I dreamed of the field.

I had let go the best way I knew how: Crying the hell out of it.
By letting go of the tears, I had let go of the guilt. I think I woke up around 4 or 5. My husband was home from work and playing video games or something, so it had to be after 3. I felt a bit relieved, though I had a small headache. I reached for my water bottle and took a few good swigs.

So, I feel some relief. Which is all I can really ask for right now.

Except for some Excedrin… my physical self is not so happy.
You see, I am my own barometer.
We had a pretty dramatic pressure change, so my head feel like I got punched right in the nose. My neck is all tensed up and stuff. We’re supposed to have a substantial storm rolling in tomorrow. Ick.

But I downloaded a crap-ton of music yesterday, so I’m putting together a new meditation playlist. Yeah!

Back to it.

~Breathe deep, seek peace~

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