I keep having this vision of myself, moving from one place to another, sometimes with friends other times alone, looking for the place that I call home. I dream about this other version of myself every few weeks, I don’t really know what it means exactly. I can’t figure out if it’s me or just a girl who looks like me or a girl who is me, but a different version.
I feel for her because I know all she wants is to go home, but she’s so messed up on drugs and partying she doesn’t know exactly where home is. She’s scared and tired, she’s fucking sad and she’s totally broken down, relying on the kindness of others.
I feel for her because she feels like she could be me in another life.
I want to give her a hug and tell her to come live with me, but every time I open my mouth, my eyes open and I wake up and the dream is gone. Often hours will go by before I realize I’ve had the dream again.
I count my blessings every day, even if it’s not intentionally. I am incredibly blessed to have a roof over my head and friends who care about me in this time of isolation. I am lucky to have a platform that allows me to work at finding my voice again, but y’all I am fucking tired.
I know I need to be here in this moment, and I know there are other things I could be doing that I am procrastinating on doing, I know that instead of asking “why am I here?” I should be asking “what can I do in this time of healing,” but I am fucking wiped out.
I am burned out and the only thing keeping me going is writing this blog and sharing this stuff with y’all. It’s the only time I feel safe and sane, is when I am writing, it’s the only time I feel like I am whole.
I’ve tried going for a walk a couple of times, but I just don’t find the same pleasure in nature that I used to – I realize now it’s because I miss my dog. I never knew that I could miss anything or anyone as much as I miss having a dog.
I won’t be getting another one, because I am still grieving, and for those of you who think it’s just a dog you’re wrong. He was my best friend, the keeper of my secrets and the protector of my home. He was my little dude, he was my Whalleyboo, and I feel like sometimes he’s still here.
It’s kind of creepy, but my dog died in my arms, I still had his blood on my hands as I picked him up with blankets onto a trolly and carried him to my neighbors car, so I could take him to the vet. He was cold within minutes, my poor sweet baby. He was only eleven or twelve years old.
There were very few days that I spent without that dog, even when I was at work at the Church he was there in the office next to mine waiting to go for a walk or spend time with me. He was far more loyal to me than I was to him, often taking him for granted by coming home late after a night of partying.
That dog was my one true companion, my absolute soul-mate and now that he’s gone I feel like I don’t know what to do with myself. One more thing lost in the journey that is finding my true self. One more creature that was here with me to teach me responsibility and love for another creature, that is now gone, because I wasn’t paying attention to how sick he was.
I could have demanded the vet do more tests, I could have pushed him to find out what was with my dog, but I took the face value diagnosis and force fed him antibiotics that weren’t working to kill whatever it was that killed him. I was so lost in my own problems, in my own sickness, that I didn’t see he was truly suffering. I should have put him down and out of his misery a lot sooner than I did. I should have spent more time with him.
I can’t change that, all I can do is tell you that I am grieving still, two years later, I miss my dog. I miss my baby curled up at my feet to keep them warm at night and by my sid during the day when I needed the sun.
The men who raped me didn’t just take a part of my soul, they took time away from Whalleyboo, they took time away from the most amazing creature that ever lived. They took time away from my framiller, I will never again have another animal that will replace how much I loved that dog.
It reminds me that I don’t have long before I’ll have to say goodbye to my sweet Bella, as she’s getting up there herself, so if you can spend time with your animals. You’ll never know how much you miss them when they’re gone.
Sending all my love to the animals of my past,
Devon J Hall