Old Friend Says Hi

Don't you hate it when an old friend out of the blue (this means who no prior pretenses to the point where he or she) says, "Hi." Well not just "hi", but starts a conversation out of no where. And let's say just for 'fun', that this 'friend', this 'old friend' and you had a falling out therefore the out of nowhere "hi" is not only awkward and unexpected, but mildly disgusting. I mean, if you had a major falling out and suddenly the person is all sunshine and daisies singing kumbaya, I would think you'd be pretty pissed.

If you think that I'm wrong, well then you must be a better person than me.
If you think I'm right, well, I won't be secretly going Switzerland on you.

But enough with the metaphors. My depression came back to say "hi." So you can imagine what sort of reaction I'm having.

It's the kind of reaction where I'll probably be crying myself to sleep for the second time, if I sleep at all. Jennifer is lying down in my room, hopefully getting some rest and every time she twitches, I force myself to be awake so I can check to make sure she's still breathing or not splayed out on the ground. Or I'll be so angry (like I am now) I won't be able to sleep for hours. And the two combined means that I won't be getting any sleep tonight, but I'll still be working tomorrow at the Shelter, because I have to know if Smiles was returned a second time after being adopted (twice) AND if she's in danger of being euthanized.

Then I'll have to cry about two dogs. Of course Jennifer out weighs Smiles, but selfishly although contrary to what people believe (aka my mom and Lauren) I want to adopt Smiles.

I cannot have any more dogs though now or later, with or without Jennifer. My parents according to my mom for their own "selfish reasons" do not want any more dogs. They want to simplify their lives as they are getting older. My mom is also stressing that I act realistically and wait until things actually happen before making decisions about the latter. I don't know how I'm suddenly the unrealistic one. She's obviously confusing REALISM with OPTIMISM. My mom is trying to be optimistic, which is something I think parents often do. They want to be optimistic as to seem supportive and inspiring to their grieving, depressed children who are being UNrealistic and pessimistic.

My wishes are unrealistic, but with good intent. I have always been pessimistic. Always. I don't know why that is a shock to anybody right now, especially my mom who supposedly knows me better than I know myself. BULL. SHIT.

My parents apparently do not know me at all. They do not remember a certain daughter of theirs who begged so much and so hard as soon as she could distinguish the animal known as a "dog", for a dog of her own. They certainly will not forget, ever forget how much this daughter will suffer the thought of losing her best friend and only family member who has not let down or upset her.

I know perfectly why I am upset with my parents. Mostly my mom.

I tell my parents exactly how I feel, because they know that I am depressed, although my dad sort of insists that I'm not which is a whole other "I am angry at him" situation. My mom knows. And now my doctor knows. I didn't really want to tell her, because she's a new doctor and well, I didn't think I wanted to be broken in quite that much emotionally, because I hate crying in front of people. I hate it. But I have. Twice. In front of my boss Julie at the Shelter and in front of my new doctor, Dr. Derbin. So I look like a total female. Weak and weepy. Could I be more of a girl? Apparently not. Fuck that shit.

So why I am I perfectly knowledgeable regarding my anger towards my parents--mostly mother? I'll tell you why. Because my mom says that I am:

1. I am being unrealistic
2. I am taking too much on to myself (to decide upon), basically overplanning the unknown future
3. I am giving up on my parents

She's offended, because she claims I'm giving up on my parents, when I said I'll just never tell my parents anything. Well frankly if my parents just stare blankly at me, converting oxygen to carbon dioxide and say, "I'm sorry. I just don't know." Do you THINK THAT I WOULD WANT TO TELL THEM HOW I FEEL AND ASK THEIR OPINION ON THE LATTER?

Fucking hell no.

I want comfort, but answers more than comfort. I want them to know exactly how I feel and most of all why. I want answers, although their answers are answers I do not want to hear. So I want them to understand these are just demands that I won't accept their terms to. I do not want Smiles just because I want another dog, just because I can't stand not to have a dog after Jennifer and I do not want a dog right now, because Jennifer is dying. No, I would like another dog in the future, not the future as in when I'm living by myself and making my own money, postgraduate future. I cannot wait that long.

Without getting into another loophole or rather another conversation that is related to this one, that's why I'm pissed. Because my mom insists that I'm giving up on my parents. Yes. I am giving up on my parents, because THEY DO NOT KNOW WHAT TO FUCKING SAY. OR DO. They aren't even checking on me. They don't ask how I feel. They barely realize how sad I am. I have to tell them. I shouldn't have to tell them. How can they not know how I'm feeling? Don't they realize how much I love Jennifer and how fucking hard this is? They insist they know, but I really don't think they understand. They should. Especially my dad, he had a dog that he loved and lost. And I can't believe he didn't want another dog after her. I really can't imagine how he went on without her. Maybe he doesn't love dogs as much as I do. Not even a fraction of how much I love dogs.

I love dogs. And I didn't think I could open my heart or mind to any other dog other than Jennifer, because it wouldn't be her and etc etc, but I did. I could love Smiles and imagine myself with Smiles. But my parents don't care. My mom was like, "It's just the wrong time." Yes I fucking know that. Tell me something I DON'T KNOW. I cannot have Smiles. But I want somebody to have Smiles. I want to find her a home. I don't want her to die or be put down. I want her to live out a life as wonderfully as Jennifer did. Even Jennifer understands. I think she knows. She's trying to get along with other dogs. She loves me too much for her own good. She needs to tell me if she's in pain, because I think she pretends most of the time to be feeling better, because she knows how sad I am.

I wish my parents were half as understanding and loving. See this is why I depend on a dog, because they always understand when your parents don't understand shit.

So "hi back" Depression. Thanks for screwing me up again.