Whew, my dog is doing better And my COVID story

[Depression = 72% of members]

This is another very hard day, I don't know how I am going to cope, but I'll find a way. I ask for as much mercy and compassion as possible today, as it's hard not to catastrophize everything. My dog has two bloodshot eyes, and he's old, blind and diabetic. I haven't been on top of things with him like I'd like because of the trauma, but he's also just hard to work with, so his physical health isn't where I'd like to to be, since you have to balance what he'll tolerate, with what I can handle with the mental health I have, and try to get him cared for, and my Dad, although he takes him outside, and cookes chicken for him and other things, just doesn't show much affection or concern for his health like I do, he loves to minimize and write off everything as "just getting old", and so all of the responsibility falls on me.

I talked to my sister to get her to pay for it, and talked to the vet to get an emergency drop off. This is hard to share, I almost wanted to keep it to myself, but I figure sharing this now is the best way to avoid the gaslighting I could get from the vet/my sister and my Dad. As, since I tended to be cocky and pushy, and a know it all, since I've relied on myself so much, they blame me out of feeling inferior.

So, anyways I'll tell my COVID story as I drink this smoothie, and try to get through an extremely hard day in one piece. So, during COVID, things happened. My Dad immediately complained about everything, not me, I freaked out myself, because of anxieties, but I tried to rise to the occasion. First, I had to give into my agoraphobia, as it made logical sense. And then I'd make masks out of cloth for me and my Dad, and research about the COVID updates, watch the news for them, try to care for the pets and such. First I had to learn how to groom my pets, as my Dad was already flakey about taking them to the groomer, despite me doing all the work on that, except for the driving. I'd even go with him back then, just because he acted like he needed that. But I'd call, and coordinate, and communicate, and ask questions, and even go in with him to do it. Eventually I asked him to do it on his own, but he flaked out of that, with excuses which I'd call him out on.

So we stopped going to the groomer, and I researched heavily on grooming my dogs, I'd put them on my bed, and love them and pet them, and groom them, and read, and read. At first my Dad helped, and I was really sweet and kind to my dogs, as I loved spending time with them, and liked seeing them happy. Also, money was a huge concern, so I'd research on health stuff to save money, and not go to the vet more than I'd need to. Sometimes this did sabotage me, but mostly it worked out for the best. Anyways, then my dog who has passed, was started to fall on the ground, as his hips were getting tired from being old, and I'd pick him up when I walked him around the block, and I'd bust my butt to find ways to work with him. He was happy for a while.

He loved to walk around the edge of the yard, and would wake me up at night to do that, it was adorable. So, my Dad would act helpless and flake out on most of the dog stuff. This is when I started to take my dog to the vet more, but also research more. But I never really found a solution to his constipation, I guess old dogs get that sometimes. Then my other dog gets diabeties and goes blind, and I feel terrible, because I thought me feeding both my dogs too many treats led to it, and it really didn't, they said it's genetic with his breed. So I freak out and kind of stop feeding all my pets as much unhealthy stuff. This sabotaged me with my older dog, the change was too much for him. But he did kind of adjust, just not enough.

Anyways, I'm trying to save my one dog from diabeties, and my other dog is declining, I'm trying to groom them, and when I'd go to the vet, they'd shame me for not having more together with my dogs, as my Dad was abandoning me the whole time. Oh, and on top of that, I was cooking a lot too. My Dad wouldn't even put dry food out for the one dog, and had to be controlling about that, as we couldn't leave it out, because it'd hurt the diabetic dog.

So I'm doing all the work on the masks too, and my Dad is complaining, and I did hoard food, which sabotaged me financially, mostly out of anxiety stress and anxiety, but I always bought it online, so as to not hurt people. I'd buy two packages of toilet paper online, and talk to people on reddit, who would act like victims over it. I'd stand up for my right to buy two packages of toilet paper, so my family didn't run out. And I was pretty fair about it, I didn't put up with their crap. I also figured the reason most people picked sides on masks and stuff, was because of social pressures, the people around here were apathetic, but I just did what I thought was right.

Anyways, at one point I did ask my sister to bail out my poor financial situation, which I created on my own, but my sister was so flakey about helping with the pets financially, and I was going into debt to pay for them, and when my Mom died, we all agreed to care for them.

So, anyways, then the whole police/George Floid/BLM protests happen, I mostly side with the protestors, but I even though they were dumb in a way, for going out there, I really thought I was fair about the whole thing, but my Dad always sided with the cops, to antagonize me, even as protesters were getting beat, chased, and abused in Seattle.

So, my Dad is just messing with me, and I'm busting my butt for the pets, making masks, timing everything to work everything out. I'm learning how to work with both of my pets in new ways that work, but I'm gonna be honest, the stress of it, did cause me to be a little mean to them sometimes, but mostly I'd learn how to make things work for them, through research, talking to the vet (after I got ahold of the head vet there, who was good, and he told me to not push my dog so much, as I was scared that if I didn't get insulin in him, he'd die, and I didn't want to fail him, the lower vet person shamed me for that, which caused me to try harder).

So I saved my one dog after tons of research about my diabeties, and tons of hard work. And my other dog, I'd learn to be more playful when giving him his meds as he'd decline. I'd encourage my Dad to do the same with all the stuff I was learning, but honestly, he was resistant to it all. My one respite was at night when I'd get 1-2 hours to do stuff on the sex site, and I'd channel my frustration and anger towards women, at first I made more mistakes that I'd like to admit, but I got good at reading situations and feeling less bad about things. I developed a talent for it, and I have zero regrets about this, as I think it's a productive outlet for anger, that doesn't really hurt people, if you're smart about it.

So anyways, my Dad starts antongizing me, and abandoning me on the extra effort we need to put into the one dog to eat, he abandons me on the grooming, he even denies the one dog his medicine, because he's sick of me encouraging him to treat the dogs well, everything is falling apart, and I'm getting more pissed, and fighting hard with my Dad for the pets lives, for my life, and he's just manipulating me, and doing whatever he wants, even if it's horrible for the dogs. I'm reading between the lines with him, and with my dog. My older dog has a combination of happiness, because I love him so much, and also physical decline that we could never figure out, since we're too poor to spend thousands of dollars on him, maybe he had cancer, who knows.

I'm giving him baths, and my Dad is complaining about doing his part in that. I'm walking him, and I wake him up a bit more than I should, since I wanted him to be happy, and I'd struggle to even take the walks with him, because the stress and agoraphobia were bad. So, I eventually fought my Dad to walk him, and I became a Nazi about things with my Dad, because he was abandoning me on all fronts and putting in such little effort. Near the end, I couldn't control the abandonment anxiety, because of the stress of it all, caused me to feel terrified, and honestly, I just love so much that it'd hard to deal with death. So I kind of force him to eat, I'm a nazi with my dog too, as the burnout has destroyed my compassion. I give him baths with this stuff that helps his skin, and he's having anxiety too, but I can't afford to go to the vet often. I end up trying to loosen up with him, as I realize my mistake, but my Dad is antagonizing the dog, not adjusting to the changing circumstances, like, my dog wanted to be left alone when eating, because of me, but my Dad wants to harass him, just to "win".

The vet did say that we might need to put him down if he doesn't walk anymore. And that was one reason I pushed my Dad to walk him so hard, was because I couldn't let him go. And my dog very slowly went around the block with my Dad, and smiled, and I was happy that he was happy, but my Dad complained about that too, and honestly I think he now guilt tripped me about how hard it was for him, even through he was screwing with me on all fronts. He wanted my attention, and that meant screwing over the dogs and me fighting him about it, was the attention he was willing to take.

Oh yeah, and I had to learn how to feed my dogs and give them medicine, I did all that on my own too, as my Dad did jack, and I'd have to teach my Dad and take over all of that. So my last ditch effort was to put my dog on a schedule, as the stress of us being to focused on the dogs, and my cat for that matter, who was too much for even me. And I'd fight my Dad over food stuff, as my dog was skin and bones, but happy still. I did push my dog too hard to eat out of fear near the end, and tried to get my Dad to hand feed him, I regret feeding him unhealthy food, just to keep him alive, and pushing him too hard to eat, but he was happy, yet skin and bones, and I had done everything in my power to make sure his health was in order. And I feel deeply ashamed with the vet, as all my efforts never panned out, it looked super bad, and I blamed myself more than anything. I'm also cleaning my dying dogs body, and I have to tell my Dad to do literally everything, because he doesn't really care. I know it's time soon, my Dog is going to die, and as I laid in my bed, crying because my dog is going to die soon, and I'm going to have to put him down. I have my Dad take over, because I don't trust myself, because I'm manipulated, and guilt tripped, and abandoned, and plus I did make a lot of mistakes, mostly from the stress of it all. And that'd when my Dad, who would hand feed my dog at my direction, he yelled at the dog when hand feeding him, on his death bed, and yelled at him while giving him a shower. And I got up and defended him with the shower, telling my Dad that when he's on his death bed, I'm going to yell at him, but I take it back, as the threat was meant to make a point. And my Dad yelled at him when hand feeding him, I feel like he really executed him at that point, to get rid of his problem. Because the dog wouldn't eat after that.

Oh, and during all of this, I'd buy stuff from Instacart, to buy different types of foods to save my dog, and my Dad would occasionally do stuff at my direction. So I go to the vet, and do the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, and I don't even know if I can do it again today, because I feel so weakened from all the stress of the trauma. But I put my dog down, and my Dad talked at me the entire time, to look good to the vet, and I felt so overwhelmed, because my Dad loved to talk at me. The vet probably thought I was the asshole there, but I was really kind to my dog on his way out. I brushed him one last time before we went, out of shame, and out of a sense that he deserved more dignity than a dying old dog could ever have, he hated it. But I pet him on the way to the vet, and pet him as he died, and my Dad talked at me, and I could barely process it.

I picked out the thing that the ashes go in, as I wanted to honor my dog.  And my Dad, when I got home, he acted sad for the dog, and guilt tripped me for not being there for him, and then shut down, never to talk about it again, pretending that he supposedly loved this dog. And I'd talk about this dog, and journal to him. I never did spread the ashes around the edge of the yard, like I wanted to, since my dog to walk around the edge of it and bark. He loved walks, and sunshine, and barking at the neighbor dogs, and he loved playing rough, and I bought a fence for my dog with my inheritance when I moved in btw. His name was Pogey and to be honest, I don't know if I've ever loved anything, in such a pure way, than I loved that dog. He had the most wonderful personality, fiesty, tenacious, maybe I got a bit of that from him!

And I don't feel like I have the strength or the courage to spread his ashes around the yard, with the neighbors constantly antagonizing me, and I don't feel like I have the strength to go to the vet and put my dog down, and I don't feel like I have the strength to fight all the gaslighting I might get today, that somehow, I'm the one at fault for everything.

And so, I reach out, almost desperate for something from all of you. Because this day, it's so hard, I can't stand it.

[NarcsEverywhere]

This is another very hard day, I don't know how I am going to cope, but I'll find a way. I ask for as much mercy and compassion as possible today, as it's hard not to catastrophize everything. My dog has two bloodshot eyes, and he's old, blind and diabetic. I haven't been on top of things with him like I'd like because of the trauma, but he's also just hard to work with, so his physical health isn't where I'd like to to be, since you have to balance what he'll tolerate, with what I can handle with the mental health I have, and try to get him cared for, and my Dad, although he takes him outside, and cookes chicken for him and other things, just doesn't show much affection or concern for his health like I do, he loves to minimize and write off everything as "just getting old", and so all of the responsibility falls on me.

I talked to my sister to get her to pay for it, and talked to the vet to get an emergency drop off. This is hard to share, I almost wanted to keep it to myself, but I figure sharing this now is the best way to avoid the gaslighting I could get from the vet/my sister and my Dad. As, since I tended to be cocky and pushy, and a know it all, since I've relied on myself so much, they blame me out of feeling inferior.

So, anyways I'll tell my COVID story as I drink this smoothie, and try to get through an extremely hard day in one piece. So, during COVID, things happened. My Dad immediately complained about everything, not me, I freaked out myself, because of anxieties, but I tried to rise to the occasion. First, I had to give into my agoraphobia, as it made logical sense. And then I'd make masks out of cloth for me and my Dad, and research about the COVID updates, watch the news for them, try to care for the pets and such. First I had to learn how to groom my pets, as my Dad was already flakey about taking them to the groomer, despite me doing all the work on that, except for the driving. I'd even go with him back then, just because he acted like he needed that. But I'd call, and coordinate, and communicate, and ask questions, and even go in with him to do it. Eventually I asked him to do it on his own, but he flaked out of that, with excuses which I'd call him out on.

So we stopped going to the groomer, and I researched heavily on grooming my dogs, I'd put them on my bed, and love them and pet them, and groom them, and read, and read. At first my Dad helped, and I was really sweet and kind to my dogs, as I loved spending time with them, and liked seeing them happy. Also, money was a huge concern, so I'd research on health stuff to save money, and not go to the vet more than I'd need to. Sometimes this did sabotage me, but mostly it worked out for the best. Anyways, then my dog who has passed, was started to fall on the ground, as his hips were getting tired from being old, and I'd pick him up when I walked him around the block, and I'd bust my butt to find ways to work with him. He was happy for a while.

He loved to walk around the edge of the yard, and would wake me up at night to do that, it was adorable. So, my Dad would act helpless and flake out on most of the dog stuff. This is when I started to take my dog to the vet more, but also research more. But I never really found a solution to his constipation, I guess old dogs get that sometimes. Then my other dog gets diabeties and goes blind, and I feel terrible, because I thought me feeding both my dogs too many treats led to it, and it really didn't, they said it's genetic with his breed. So I freak out and kind of stop feeding all my pets as much unhealthy stuff. This sabotaged me with my older dog, the change was too much for him. But he did kind of adjust, just not enough.

Anyways, I'm trying to save my one dog from diabeties, and my other dog is declining, I'm trying to groom them, and when I'd go to the vet, they'd shame me for not having more together with my dogs, as my Dad was abandoning me the whole time. Oh, and on top of that, I was cooking a lot too. My Dad wouldn't even put dry food out for the one dog, and had to be controlling about that, as we couldn't leave it out, because it'd hurt the diabetic dog.

So I'm doing all the work on the masks too, and my Dad is complaining, and I did hoard food, which sabotaged me financially, mostly out of anxiety stress and anxiety, but I always bought it online, so as to not hurt people. I'd buy two packages of toilet paper online, and talk to people on reddit, who would act like victims over it. I'd stand up for my right to buy two packages of toilet paper, so my family didn't run out. And I was pretty fair about it, I didn't put up with their crap. I also figured the reason most people picked sides on masks and stuff, was because of social pressures, the people around here were apathetic, but I just did what I thought was right.

Anyways, at one point I did ask my sister to bail out my poor financial situation, which I created on my own, but my sister was so flakey about helping with the pets financially, and I was going into debt to pay for them, and when my Mom died, we all agreed to care for them.

So, anyways, then the whole police/George Floid/BLM protests happen, I mostly side with the protestors, but I even though they were dumb in a way, for going out there, I really thought I was fair about the whole thing, but my Dad always sided with the cops, to antagonize me, even as protesters were getting beat, chased, and abused in Seattle.

So, my Dad is just messing with me, and I'm busting my butt for the pets, making masks, timing everything to work everything out. I'm learning how to work with both of my pets in new ways that work, but I'm gonna be honest, the stress of it, did cause me to be a little mean to them sometimes, but mostly I'd learn how to make things work for them, through research, talking to the vet (after I got ahold of the head vet there, who was good, and he told me to not push my dog so much, as I was scared that if I didn't get insulin in him, he'd die, and I didn't want to fail him, the lower vet person shamed me for that, which caused me to try harder).

So I saved my one dog after tons of research about my diabeties, and tons of hard work. And my other dog, I'd learn to be more playful when giving him his meds as he'd decline. I'd encourage my Dad to do the same with all the stuff I was learning, but honestly, he was resistant to it all. My one respite was at night when I'd get 1-2 hours to do stuff on the sex site, and I'd channel my frustration and anger towards women, at first I made more mistakes that I'd like to admit, but I got good at reading situations and feeling less bad about things. I developed a talent for it, and I have zero regrets about this, as I think it's a productive outlet for anger, that doesn't really hurt people, if you're smart about it.

So anyways, my Dad starts antongizing me, and abandoning me on the extra effort we need to put into the one dog to eat, he abandons me on the grooming, he even denies the one dog his medicine, because he's sick of me encouraging him to treat the dogs well, everything is falling apart, and I'm getting more pissed, and fighting hard with my Dad for the pets lives, for my life, and he's just manipulating me, and doing whatever he wants, even if it's horrible for the dogs. I'm reading between the lines with him, and with my dog. My older dog has a combination of happiness, because I love him so much, and also physical decline that we could never figure out, since we're too poor to spend thousands of dollars on him, maybe he had cancer, who knows.

I'm giving him baths, and my Dad is complaining about doing his part in that. I'm walking him, and I wake him up a bit more than I should, since I wanted him to be happy, and I'd struggle to even take the walks with him, because the stress and agoraphobia were bad. So, I eventually fought my Dad to walk him, and I became a Nazi about things with my Dad, because he was abandoning me on all fronts and putting in such little effort. Near the end, I couldn't control the abandonment anxiety, because of the stress of it all, caused me to feel terrified, and honestly, I just love so much that it'd hard to deal with death. So I kind of force him to eat, I'm a nazi with my dog too, as the burnout has destroyed my compassion. I give him baths with this stuff that helps his skin, and he's having anxiety too, but I can't afford to go to the vet often. I end up trying to loosen up with him, as I realize my mistake, but my Dad is antagonizing the dog, not adjusting to the changing circumstances, like, my dog wanted to be left alone when eating, because of me, but my Dad wants to harass him, just to "win".

The vet did say that we might need to put him down if he doesn't walk anymore. And that was one reason I pushed my Dad to walk him so hard, was because I couldn't let him go. And my dog very slowly went around the block with my Dad, and smiled, and I was happy that he was happy, but my Dad complained about that too, and honestly I think he now guilt tripped me about how hard it was for him, even through he was screwing with me on all fronts. He wanted my attention, and that meant screwing over the dogs and me fighting him about it, was the attention he was willing to take.

Oh yeah, and I had to learn how to feed my dogs and give them medicine, I did all that on my own too, as my Dad did jack, and I'd have to teach my Dad and take over all of that. So my last ditch effort was to put my dog on a schedule, as the stress of us being to focused on the dogs, and my cat for that matter, who was too much for even me. And I'd fight my Dad over food stuff, as my dog was skin and bones, but happy still. I did push my dog too hard to eat out of fear near the end, and tried to get my Dad to hand feed him, I regret feeding him unhealthy food, just to keep him alive, and pushing him too hard to eat, but he was happy, yet skin and bones, and I had done everything in my power to make sure his health was in order. And I feel deeply ashamed with the vet, as all my efforts never panned out, it looked super bad, and I blamed myself more than anything. I'm also cleaning my dying dogs body, and I have to tell my Dad to do literally everything, because he doesn't really care. I know it's time soon, my Dog is going to die, and as I laid in my bed, crying because my dog is going to die soon, and I'm going to have to put him down. I have my Dad take over, because I don't trust myself, because I'm manipulated, and guilt tripped, and abandoned, and plus I did make a lot of mistakes, mostly from the stress of it all. And that'd when my Dad, who would hand feed my dog at my direction, he yelled at the dog when hand feeding him, on his death bed, and yelled at him while giving him a shower. And I got up and defended him with the shower, telling my Dad that when he's on his death bed, I'm going to yell at him, but I take it back, as the threat was meant to make a point. And my Dad yelled at him when hand feeding him, I feel like he really executed him at that point, to get rid of his problem. Because the dog wouldn't eat after that.

Oh, and during all of this, I'd buy stuff from Instacart, to buy different types of foods to save my dog, and my Dad would occasionally do stuff at my direction. So I go to the vet, and do the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, and I don't even know if I can do it again today, because I feel so weakened from all the stress of the trauma. But I put my dog down, and my Dad talked at me the entire time, to look good to the vet, and I felt so overwhelmed, because my Dad loved to talk at me. The vet probably thought I was the asshole there, but I was really kind to my dog on his way out. I brushed him one last time before we went, out of shame, and out of a sense that he deserved more dignity than a dying old dog could ever have, he hated it. But I pet him on the way to the vet, and pet him as he died, and my Dad talked at me, and I could barely process it.

I picked out the thing that the ashes go in, as I wanted to honor my dog.  And my Dad, when I got home, he acted sad for the dog, and guilt tripped me for not being there for him, and then shut down, never to talk about it again, pretending that he supposedly loved this dog. And I'd talk about this dog, and journal to him. I never did spread the ashes around the edge of the yard, like I wanted to, since my dog to walk around the edge of it and bark. He loved walks, and sunshine, and barking at the neighbor dogs, and he loved playing rough, and I bought a fence for my dog with my inheritance when I moved in btw. His name was Pogey and to be honest, I don't know if I've ever loved anything, in such a pure way, than I loved that dog. He had the most wonderful personality, fiesty, tenacious, maybe I got a bit of that from him!

And I don't feel like I have the strength or the courage to spread his ashes around the yard, with the neighbors constantly antagonizing me, and I don't feel like I have the strength to go to the vet and put my dog down, and I don't feel like I have the strength to fight all the gaslighting I might get today, that somehow, I'm the one at fault for everything.

And so, I reach out, almost desperate for something from all of you. Because this day, it's so hard, I can't stand it.

[NarcsEverywhere]

Well, some good news and bad news, good news, he's probably gonna live, bad news he's probably gonna die soonish and I'll need to come to terms with that. And I was a little nicer to the people there and accepted more help and the doctor there seemed to appreciated me, and I appreciate him, he's really good at his job. So I'll get through this day. I don't know how to come to terms with it all.

Edit: Well the level of disgust and anger I feel for my Dad tonight is palpable. I feel a strong urge to gag and severe heartburn, might call crisis, this blows. Yeah this story is so long no wonder people don’t want to read it, .

I think the most beautiful thing in all of this is how screwed up the dynamics are. My mom systematically destroyed my dad and used him in many ways to seduce me, my Mom even used my complaint of my BPDexGF never liking sex no matter what I did, as knowledge to get to me, glad I never did that with her. But because my Dad viewed me loving my Mom a bit too much as me getting her, and my Dad was perpetually demasculated by her, and me loving my dog caused him to be jealous of us both, as he viewed the dog as his. I’d feel sorry for my Dad if he didn’t pull this one off, gross. What a mind warp, drama of the tallest order. Ain’t life grand?

I’m really good at thinking things through, but even for me this one’s a doozy.