Some people aren’t multitaskers. I’m not referring to work as such, but emotions. If you’re emotionally involved in one thing and want to make it right, they can’t dump something else on you and immediately expect the right result.
If people don’t understand how you feel or it doesn’t make sense to them, the worst they can do is condemn you for it. You’re irrational to them. They tell you to stop pitying yourself or to control your temper. That’s what you would tell your friend in school, not a loved one. You should know your loved one better.
Fire signs have it good since they’re emotionally more robust—wrong move by picking a Cancer and not understanding them. You sell her your salesman’s pitch because she’s like that grandma, who would fall for telemarketing.
If I’m not on the same boat as you or think differently, is it so hard to be patient with me rather than tell me what you hate about me?
Yes, last week was a tough week—big mistake for not blogging right away when those emotions were still fresh. But I guess it’s better to analyze the past sentiments instead.
I never thought that rehoming a dog would have such an impact on me. She needed to be out of my life, that much I knew. And it’s nothing new to me that I’ll receive more condemnation than gratitude or understanding when I show too much heart to people. (Usually, it’s the condemnation from loved ones and gratitude from strangers. Go figure.)
My mum’s right—get too many people involved in your problems, you’ll have a hard time. You never know who you can trust, so the worst thing is to make it public.
No one knew how the second dog had brought out the worst in me, except those who actually witnessed it. I never wanted her. I don’t have the mental and emotional capacity for a second dog. Plus, she deserved better. She needed better.
Another question was: What’s more important, your mental health or that your existing dog has a playmate? Your partner might say the latter because he’s more dog than a human sometimes. (I’m sure he was a dog himself in his past life. He was probably the runt in the litter and adopted by a nice family.)
You’re trapped in a situation where if you choose for yourself, you’re a selfish bitch. And if you decide to get a second dog, you’ll suffer mentally and become worse than you think you are. You don’t have the time and space to become a better person because you’re constantly taking care of everyone and everything else.
I’ve heard different things about owning two dogs. Unfortunately, I got fed too many pros and didn’t think of the cons. So, I went ahead with what I didn’t want.
See, that’s a dumb move. I learn through experience rather than from friends’ misfortunes or bad decisions. I’m naïve and impulsive when I shouldn’t be.
However, being the responsible and dutiful person I am–, I felt like I’d shortened my life in the last three months.
Why the whole process had such an impact on me? First, I’d involved friends and acquaintances to help us find her a new home rather than placing an ad right away. They didn’t know what I was going through and kept saying that I’d regret rehoming her, that I needed to be patient with the training and give love to that dog.
That was the last thing I needed to hear.
I.did.not.love.her. That’s the truth and only truth.
Tell that to your friends and see how heartless it sounds to them. You don’t know any details and still want to judge me? Go ahead. At least, I knew what was better for her, so I gave her that.
I don’t need to be guilt-tripped.
Eleven years ago, someone said that I was dutiful. When you’re dutiful, you’re an obedient soldier focused on nothing but your duties. You realise you’re not doing anything for your mental health; you’re not doing anything you enjoy. I think that’s what he was trying to say to me. Eleven years later, it clicked.
Last night I dreamed that the family that took the dog returned her, and life went back to shits.
All this after talking to a close friend about fears. She called me from Southeast Asia to send me some positive vibes, which I needed. She has been practising mindfulness for over nine months now. The purpose of meditation is to become a better person. If it takes her that long become that better person, I’ll probably need twice as much time.
Ten years later, I still don’t think I’m going anywhere in life. I had a focus once, but love just spotted it with dark paint and had me walk in circles, doubting myself and everything else around me.
It’s nobody’s fault but my own. I’m the one that makes decisions.
And when someone admits something, you don’t dump more shit on them.
