Heartbroken

[nickdalzell]

No, the problem was that no drug nor talking to a stranger can replace the connection to someone you love and will never see again. If that worked, then alcohol would solve more problems than it causes.

Deer being close to humans in this area is as rare as winning the lottery. The chances of me knowing another deer are so remote that when I lost Suzie I figured that was it--I'd never have that bond again. I reiterate, Daisy saved me. She was so popular among vegans on Facebook at the time that I met my significant other there in 2012, around the time Daisy started falling ill. Lisa, my girlfriend today, is really the only reason I carry a smartphone at all. Otherwise I'd be rotary landline forever.

Last time I logged into Facebook (before it got both tiresome plus their special 2FA screwed me over) there was someone there who had a buck named Wheezer and a doe also named Daisy. There was quite the back and forth between her and the fish and wildlife services (they really hate us, don't they) but in the end she won out. She was posting daily photos (sadly overdone with emoji) as late as 2013. Not sure if she's there now. I can't login.

 

[MoodyBlues]

No, the problem was that no drug nor talking to a stranger can replace the connection to someone you love and will never see again. If that worked, then alcohol would solve more problems than it causes.

We'll have to agree to disagree on this, because I can state, unequivocally, that medication plus therapy saved my life. And two people I loved, and tried to get the psychiatric help they needed--but were instead relying on massive amounts of narcotics and/or alcohol--probably wouldn't have blown their brains out if they had only listened to me. *shrug*

 

[nickdalzell]

All I can say is that for a while I was on Prozac and the way it made me act reminded me of Ren wearing the Happy Helmet from Ren and Stimpy. It doesn't solve the problem only treats the symptom. You can't fix lonliness and loss with medication. You have to fix the source of the problem--the lonliness and loss. Not fake happy.

I wasn't myself, acted happy but was not, inside I was screaming.

 

[MoodyBlues]

All I can say is that for a while I was on Prozac and the way it made me act reminded me of Ren wearing the Happy Helmet from Ren and Stimpy. It doesn't solve the problem only treats the symptom. You can't fix lonliness and loss with medication. You have to fix the source of the problem--the lonliness and loss. Not fake happy.

I wasn't myself, acted happy but was not, inside I was screaming.

Then you were doing it wrong. As I said, you didn't hit on the right medication or combination of medications. At various times since my teens, I've required as little as one med to a 3-4 med cocktail to keep my depression under control. At no point did they make me feel 'fake happy' at all, they just pulled me far enough out of the abyss that I could work on the actual problems--with a competent therapist I had a very good rapport with. Much research has been done showing that chemical imbalances in the brain may be responsible for certain mental disorders, including depression, and treating those imbalances with meds is analogous to a type 1 diabetic using insulin to make up for the insulin their body doesn't produce.

I completely agree, though, that no medication or talk therapy can solve a problem like loneliness. For me, when I was at a particularly low point and feeling very lonely (despite having people around), I found that group therapy [with my regular therapist] was extremely helpful. She had a weekly group session of about six people, all of us with dissociative disorders, and we became like a family. I became really good friends with two of those members, and we socialized outside of our weekly meetings. Today, with all the technology available that we didn't have back then, it should be easy to find and get to know people even if they don't live right next door.

 

[nickdalzell]

Problem is, I am not that good with humans. Like, ever. They are alien to me. They and I have nothing in common. I've always felt far more comfortable around animals. They don't lie, or deceive, or hate. They don't care what you look like or what colour your skin is or whether you're male, female, gay, or whatever. And deer are my closest companions, the ones I most identify with, and when you live in the 'Deer huntin' capital of the world' as the folks here once titled Owensboro, KY (the real term was 'BBQ Capital of the World', not any better) and the chances of knowing your dream/spirit animal is about as likely as winning the PowerBall jackpot, well, it makes for one awkward social life. So 'group therapy' would have resulted in a similar dispute as a deer among a group of wolves. It's like we don't even speak the same language. I have better rapport with the animalese spoken in Animal Crossing games. Humans are just foreign even today, and I hardly socialize with them. I spend most of my time off work either on my laptop, or hiking in the woods, spending times at animal sanctuaries or deer parks (now that's group therapy, spending time talking to a group of fallow deer) or watching TV. Much of my escapes are hikes with calming music playing on my headset. I share none of the goals/interests that humans do. I don't even like the modern tech they always say I should 'get with the times' with. Much of my recent encounters have been among the 'futurists' who are akin to techno-Jehovah's Witnesses and who's goal in life is pushing other people to embrace the newest and latest tech, and are actually threatened by anyone who prefers vintage over modern. I seriously tire of them. They're online too, and inescapable no matter how old school an area like Beech Grove, KY is. Soon as you use a mechanical pocketwatch or an older smartphone that's actually able to fit in one hand, they come out of the wood work and say crap like "Why don't you get with the times, man!" "the future is NOW old man" or the most common nugget, "Embrace the future or be left behind"

That last sentence is so true. My girlfriend lives 540 miles away, and while we do see each other from time to time, we both require smartphones to be connected. I met her through Daisy.

 

[MoodyBlues]

I just want you to know that I really, truly understand what you're saying. Non-human animals have never let me down. They haven't pulled away when the going got tough. They haven't said hurtful words or turned their back on me because we disagreed on something. Preferring the company of non-human animals makes perfect sense to me. Although I don't fully share your strong discomfort regarding humans, I can definitely relate.

What you're saying about the "deer huntin' capital" resonates with me. Do you recall where I was living when I decided to go vegetarian? How does "deep in the heart of Texas" sound?! I know, I know, how on earth did this deep blue native Californian ever end up THERE?!! But I did, and we were treated like aliens after deciding not to eat/wear/use animal products. Going out to restaurants became a big source of stress. There were absolutely NO vegetarian or vegan restaurants, and virtually NOTHING on regular restaurants' menus that didn't contain some kind of dead animal part. Like when we all ordered green beans....and they arrived with chunks of some kind of animal fat in them! We told the server we're vegetarian and can't eat that, and you know what she said? (And we heard this a MILLION times...) "Just pick the meat out and it'll be fine!" No, Einstein, it will not be fine!

Now, having been back home in deep blue, progressive, beautiful, animal-rights granting California for 17 years, it's like a kid in a candy shop! There are so many vegan restaurants to choose from, everything from straight up fast-food to Indian and Ethiopian. And mainstream restaurants always have vegan choices. Did you know that *ALL* of the pre-entree foods at Olive Garden are vegan? You know, the 'buttery' garlic bread, the minestrone soup, the salad (without their dairy-based dressing)--it's all vegan!! And with their plethora of mix and match pastas and sauces, you can have them make something just for you. I'm very fond of garlic, pesto, basil, onions, mushrooms, multi-colored bell peppers, and olive oil, and they'll whip something up using my choice of ingredients and it's so good.

I'm not sure what my point is...maybe, have you thought about moving somewhere more in line with your own beliefs?! Surely there's somewhere you'd like where you'd be more comfortable and fit in better with its other residents. I did.

 

[nickdalzell]

Nope, I don't want to move. I live and shop (and prefer it to remain so) in a very Mayberry-esque area. I have a home that's paid for, vehcles that are paid for, and these days no one other than futurists mess with me. I haven't dealt with a hunter in public since 2011. When I went vegan they pretty much shut the heck up, while when I was non-vegan the argument they used most often was "do you eat hamburgers?" Since being 'consistent' they pretty much leave me alone. I can easily spot them though, they look like rejects from Duck Dynasty

Thankfully the younger crowd has mostly lost interest with hunting, somewhat due to the Millennial/Zoomer distaste of actually getting their hands dirty (especially in a post-COVID world), and the instant gratification and lack of patience makes it unlikely they'll spend hours waiting for a deer to come by, also, many of them are likely to be vegan or at least open to it, and pretty turned off by the gore associated with hunting. Smartphones also prevent it--they'd rather game on Candy Crush over kill anyone.

No matter where I'd move to, I'd be out of place with humans. Deer lovers are a critically endangered species and every state has hunting in some form. I often dreamed of a out of the way cabin in the woods for me and Daisy (I knew it'd never happen but I still planned it in my mind) that was stuck in time in the 1970s with a Chrysler Cordoba in the driveway, and I still dream it up from time to time, but I ain't rich enough for that. Plus, I hate snow. I am not meant to be in the future, I was meant to be in the 1950s-70s. I'm far too old school and into vintage for modern. I sometimes feel I was once living another life in that era and get 'flashes' of life there in that time and realize that we don't know everything about the universe at all. Life is better when you're facing it without knowing what's ahead.

But unless there's a real life Animal Crossing town, I doubt anywhere else would resonate with me. Many have embraced 'modern' and I hate it. Far too many humans spend their entire lives on smartphones and don't look at each other face to face, and even on hikes, miss out on viewing wildlife because they're hyperfocused on their TikTok. Sometimes I wonder how they don't bump into trees. People seem afraid of physical contact after COVID, and seeing folks wearing masks creeps me the heck out--it's like I'm in a Rod Serling episode of the Twilight Zone. or the movie The Andromeda Strain

 

[ozonetrooper]

and we were treated like aliens after deciding not to eat/wear/use animal products. Going out to restaurants became a big source of stress.

Like when we all ordered green beans....and they arrived with chunks of some kind of animal fat in them!

There ought to be a law against serving wholesome green beans without salt pork or bacon in them !

I ate at Olive Garden just a few weeks ago, pigged out, (see what I did there), on breadstix salad and eggplant parmigiana, with two glasses of Sangria.

Me and the OG are in the deep South of Texas, not a bad place to live and much less expensive than Hally Land !

You need one of my home made suppers :

 

[nickdalzell]

This is certainly not the thread to be trolling. Please go.

 

[MoodyBlues]

This is certainly not the thread to be trolling. Please go.

Did I miss something?

 

[nickdalzell]

You don't see the troll post from OzoneTrooper, Moody?

There ought to be a law against serving wholesome green beans without salt pork or bacon in them !


I ate at Olive Garden just a few weeks ago, pigged out, (see what I did there), on breadstix salad and eggplant parmigiana, with two glasses of Sangria.
Me and the OG are in the deep South of Texas, not a bad place to live and much less expensive than Hally Land !

 

[MoodyBlues]

You don't see the troll post from OzoneTrooper, Moody?

I guess this just speaks to how fu...mucked up my brain is right now. I totally misread that sentence.

if it makes @ozonetrooper feel good posting something like what he did, oh well, what can you do?

Meanwhile, back on-topic, I hadn't heard from my vet yet about Joy Noelle's ashes, and I knew they MUST be ready by now. They are. My helper called; she'll go by tomorrow [probably] to pick my baby up from 'the mean man' one final time.

The last time I took Joy Noelle in, I told my vet that 'the mean man' is what we call him--lovingly, of course. He smiled and thought it was cute and funny. And totally understandable! Visits to him inevitably involved numerous needle sticks and other awful things...

 

[nickdalzell]

I just have to add that my precious Bubbles has finally joined the endless forest. He was approaching his 6th birthday with me (I think he was a year or two old when I got him originally, I have had him since May 2017) and came down with some odd form of cancer and seemed to be coming out of it, but when I came home from work yesterday (that morning he was hopping around and acting far more normal than over the last week or two) he was on his side and cold to the touch. Still alive for three more hours I spent with him and he finally stretched and that was it. I'm still torn over it. I have never had an animal die in my arms before. It's utterly heart wrenching and I can't help but feel I failed him. Large breeds like him are usually likely to only live 7 years, but I feel I didn't do enough and it's tearing me up right now.

I posted a few photos in this thread some posts back, from last Summer. currently my yard is full of wild rabbits. They've been gathering since yesterday evening.

 

[MoodyBlues]

I just have to add that my precious Bubbles has finally joined the endless forest. He was approaching his 6th birthday with me (I think he was a year or two old when I got him originally, I have had him since May 2017) and came down with some odd form of cancer and seemed to be coming out of it, but when I came home from work yesterday (that morning he was hopping around and acting far more normal than over the last week or two) he was on his side and cold to the touch. Still alive for three more hours I spent with him and he finally stretched and that was it. I'm still torn over it. I have never had an animal die in my arms before. It's utterly heart wrenching and I can't help but feel I failed him. Large breeds like him are usually likely to only live 7 years, but I feel I didn't do enough and it's tearing me up right now.

I posted a few photos in this thread some posts back, from last Summer. currently my yard is full of wild rabbits. They've been gathering since yesterday evening.

Oh geesh.... Nick I'm so sorry. 😢

I've always heard that rabbits don't live very long, if that's any consolation right now. (And I know it isn't. Just trying to think of something to say...)

Joy Noelle is the first pet ever to die in my arms--I mean in a natural setting, no vet involved with needles stuck in their arm on a cold metal table. Look at it as I've looked at my recent experience, *YOU* were with him, the human he loved more than anything or anyone, and the last things he heard and felt were your sweet words and touch. Joy hasn't been at Rainbow Bridge long, but if she's learned all the ropes yet, I'm sure she'll be hoppy...er, happy....to show Bubbles around....

I ache for you. Really I do.

 

[nickdalzell]

I'm currently getting a custom plush of him made to immortalize him. I ache for him I really do. He and I had a bond as strong as me and my deer.

If you're interested in possibly getting a plushie of your sweet angel done, these sites:

Cuddle Clones: Custom Stuffed Animals of Your Pet - Premium Quality

Custom stuffed animals of your pets! As well as a variety of unique pet gifts. Use our simple customization process and shop custom products in your pet's likeness now! Turn any animal you love into a custom stuffed animal, slippers, golf headcovers and more. Fully customizable features of dogs...

cuddleclones.com

https://petsify.com

 

[MoodyBlues]

I ache for him I really do.

I understand. Those are the exact words I keep hearing myself say when I'm asked IRL how I'm doing: "I *ache* for her...my heart has a void and it just aches..."

Did you have Bubbles cremated? That's been my habit now for a long time. Thanks for the link--I'm undecided at this point if having a physical reminder like that of Joy Noelle would be good or bad for me. Maybe down the road a bit, but I don't think now is the time. I still haven't put together whatever it is I'm going to frame and put on the wall. I just can't handle looking through my billion pictures and trying to concentrate on picking a few.

When I was in the hospital for six months, everyone who took care of my pets had to provide proof, e.g., photos and/or videos, proving that Joy Noelle was alive and well and where she belongs. There's a really funny one I sent to my cousin the other day. It's my husband interacting with JN while she was sunbathing on the microwave--and he has a parrot, and he's used to talking parrot-talk, so it's just hilarious listening to him talking to JN in his parrot voice for two minutes. It actually made me laugh...

I'm too lazy right now to go back through this thread, @nickdalzell, but didn't you mention that Bubbles had a recent issue with standing up, or walking....or something indicating a problem?

 

[nickdalzell]

He had crusty skin around his neck (and it was in another thread) but he was otherwise acting normal. I treated it with ivermectin and it was healing quite well and he was slowly getting his energy back and acting more and more like himself. At least, until I came home that day. He had left his usual trail of droppings indicating he had ran and jumped throughout the house but he was on his side that evening. I don't know what happened. I wasn't home. It's like his clock just ran out. He was eating/drinking that morning no issue at all. He never had issues standing except in late January he had lost a ton of weight and had no energy in his back legs and I fed him a more balanced diet and he came out of that and got his energy and weight back (apparently the remark about hay being 80% of a rabbit's diet isn't entirely true as he needed more than hay and pellets, more like hay, carrots, pellets, vegetables and fruit). That was unrelated to the crusty cancer thing. I knew he had nutrient issues then because he actually wanted to eat ME. I mean he always loved sucking on my fingers and licking my toes if barefoot, but during january he was trying to actually eat my toes and fingers and I knew he had a deficiency. Have you ever seen a large breed rabbit yawn? Those teeth are utterly terrifying! His teeth looked like they belonged in a kitty's mouth than a bunny's.

I buried him in the back yard. I'm later going to make a memorial for him. I can't get the image of his final moments out of my head. It makes me more angry at those who can kill animals and feel pleasure from it (such as hunters). I never want to experience that again. Ever.

 

[MoodyBlues]

My loss of Joy Noelle has been awful, as everyone knew it would be, but I have to say that on the list of my pets' deaths (and this is going to sound really weird), hers was the best one. Let me [attempt to] explain.

Throughout the decades, each pet ultimately reached a point where their quality of life was no longer good, at all. I kept some of them alive longer than I should have--for purely selfish reasons, because I couldn't bear to think of life without them--and I've regretted that for years and years. With each pet, when it was clear that no further medical care could help, and they were miserable and just wanted release, off we went to our vet and had them euthanized, always staying with them throughout, always petting and talking to them, holding them to get off the cold steel table ASAP, and waited for the vet to verify no heartbeat. Then sat there and cried and cried... went home with an empty carrier... cried and cried...

An exception--and the death that ranks worst of all time, actually making me near-catatonic in the days that followed--was my beautiful, big, fat, ultra-affectionate (to me) Willie, full name Wilshire Coronado (as explained numerous times, named for the intersection in downtown LA where I found him as a little kitten). I woke up that morning and he was sleeping wrapped around my head on my pillow--that was one of his favorite places; another was under the covers on my tummy. Joy Noelle was on my tummy, Willie was on my head, we woke up, I kissed and petted Willie as usual, got dressed, asked him if he wanted to come out of the bedroom with me, he didn't, so I left. This was all normal. On days when he didn't come out with me, I'd go back a little while later and by then he'd come out into the rest of the house, and take up his position on my lap. This morning I went back to my room about an hour later (normal) and walked in and saw who I THOUGHT was Maggie May, an adult (mistreated, abused) cat I'd adopted because when I saw her, she looked so similar to Willie she just caught my eye, and when I heard her story, I filled out the adoption papers), laying on the floor, their back to me. (I feel like I've typed this before...) I said something like 'what are you doing sleeping down there you silly girl?!' But the cat didn't move. In a split second I realized the cat was dead. I thought it was Maggie. Then I glanced over to my bed....and there was Maggie May looking at me. I walked toward Willie, calling out his name, then dropped down on the floor and touched him--I so badly wanted him to be alive, but he was definitely dead. Still very warm. Like it just happened. My best friend arrived (she had called earlier and we were going to have coffee) and came in. I was holding Willie and sitting on the floor in the den, crying my eyes out. She was shocked. I tried explaining what happened, but I was SO OUT OF IT I really don't know how to explain it. I cradled him in a soft towel for hours, berating myself for not having been with him. My friend called my vet and told them; they said to bring him in for cremation. At some point she made me give him to her so she'd get to the vet before they closed. I spent days...weeks...in an altered state of reality, unable to accept that Willie had died, and had died ALONE on the floor, without his mommy. It was a month or two later when I took in...I don't remember, one of my pets for some kind of vet visit, and my vet told me that Maine Coon cats (which Willie was, but I never cared about--he was just a beautiful, sweet kitten in need of rescue from Wilshire Boulevard) are VERY prone to sudden cardiac arrest, and that's what happened to Willie. She assured me up and down that there's NOTHING I could've done in his 14-1/2 years that could have prevented his death when it happened. It was basically in the cards the whole time, I just didn't know about it.

That death, by far, hurt the most and left me the most unable to function. Saying I was catatonic is probably a bit over-the-top, but it gets the point across. In contrast, Joy Noelle's peaceful, gentle, calm death in my arms, on our bed, in our house, with no needles and no trip to the 'mean man' was by far the best pet death ever. Her last breath at 4:04pm will forever be with me...as I literally watched as her soul left her body, evidenced by her eyes, which were open. The sweet, precious face was there, but she was gone...

I know that you're hurting right now because you weren't with Bubbles right when he collapsed, but you did have those last three hours to remind him how much he meant to you and how he was so loved. As my vet told me when Willie died, don't beat yourself up because there's NOTHING you could've done differently. You weren't home because you had things to do. You didn't know what was about to happen. Like that morning I left Willie in the bedroom for an hour...

 

[mikedt]

There ought to be a law against serving wholesome green beans without salt pork or bacon in them !

I ate at Olive Garden just a few weeks ago, pigged out, (see what I did there), on breadstix salad and eggplant parmigiana, with two glasses of Sangria.

Me and the OG are in the deep South of Texas, not a bad place to live and much less expensive than Hally Land !

You need one of my home made suppers :


View attachment 165668

I've no got idea what you're talking about. But is it a first world problem?

 

[MoodyBlues]

I've no got idea what you're talking about. But is it a first world problem?

You're not alone.

Same thing for this whole thread.

I'm sorry you feel that way.

 

[Milo Williamson]

@MoodyBlues

 

[MoodyBlues]

Joy Noelle finally came home yesterday, for the last time. She's been at her least favorite place in the world, the mean man's office, because my helper thought...well, I can't explain it exactly, but she thought it better that I not see the things just yet. I snapped a few [really bad] pics last night; there's more than this in the bag I received but this gives you an idea:

😢 😢

 

[nickdalzell]

I lost it last night. I thought of Daisy Deer and Bubbles being best friends (they both bonded with me, and were both a lot alike) and just broke down in tears in bed last night.

On one of the Kmart tapes, was a song from Corey Hart called "I am by your side" and that one hit hard. Some of the lyrics:

"I am by your side. Shelter you from the cold outside.

You can always run to me, I will never hide, you'll see.."

"For I am by your side...Suddenly I realize, I can always run to you

You will be there...it's true"

 

[MoodyBlues]

I lost it last night. I thought of Daisy Deer and Bubbles being best friends (they both bonded with me, and were both a lot alike) and just broke down in tears in bed last night.

Trust me, you're not alone. I have yet to get through a day--or night--without crying. I know from experience that it gets better with the passage of time, but right now I can't even imagine this ever feeling better. At night, my hands always automatically reached for Joy Noelle, and if she wasn't on my tummy, I'd call her: "Joy? Joy Noelle?!" and she'd come running. (She'd get down for a drink of water or to potty.) A few times lately I've awakened to the sound of my own voice saying the end of "Joy? Joy Noelle?!" and realizing I must have reached for her in my sleep, started calling her name, woke up...and started crying again.

If you didn't read the "Rediscover Love" I posted, please do. Oh, you'll sob through it, but it's a nice complement to Rainbow Bridge.

 

[Milo Williamson]