My final Goodbye- Thank you to a dog

Writing has become my outlet lately because if I have a thought I can write it down and read it later. My brain has been through so many events, it is exhausted, it is sad and I just can’t wait for the day when everything will be a distant memory.

I have been told I am not mentally stable, I have been pushed to my limits and broken down. I have tried to reach out to someone who I thought cared only to be told to just stop being so negative and then I might not be so depressed. I mean of only it was that simple.

I am not mentally unstable, in fact when the source that was telling me I was, eliminated itself, I began to heal.
Even my mum admitted she was so surprised how normal I am now, everyone says it. They tell me I look better, I have confidence back and I don’t seem to be stressed. No one has ever had any issues that this person claimed to have with me, which really says something, perhaps they were the issue all along. I couldn’t trust them, call it gut instinct, no matter how stressed, exhausted, crazy they made me feel something deep down told me I was still in this body, I was still me despite the changes I felt.

I don’t regret my dishonesty to them, because I felt as though things I was telling them were not going to be kept safe, they were using it, they weren’t here to be understanding they were here to gain the upper hand. I protected people in my life who would have only done the same for me. It’s amazing the damage one person can do if they’re determined to win.
I am grateful that my clouded mind, my traumatized memories, my extreme sadness still allowed me to protect those who are still here, supporting me. I didn’t tell everyone’s secrets, they didn’t need to dragged through the mud just because I was.

I am always so reluctant to talk about my past, even to those closest to me. I often find myself saying “I don’t want to seem like I am keeping secrets” by habit, only to be told my best friend “You aren’t, you don’t have to tell me anything you want kept private it isn’t going to affect our friendship”. He is right, the past is the past it doesn’t define the future I could have, but it might if it’s constantly dragged up whenever something isn’t right. Sure I have been affected by past, I don’t doubt, but constantly reminding me about it to try to shift blame or drill it in that I act a certain way because of it, doesn’t help. I hope I am not out of line saying this but speaking on behalf of people who have experienced trauma, it just doesn’t help to associate it with everything that goes wrong in our lives because it could taint new experiences with the wrong opinion.

Tunnel vision are the words I would use to explain the last 8 months, when you work so hard to achieve something, when you brave your own misery to get a job done. Imagine packing up the life you knew, the things you love and treasure the most. You make a daring choice to try to better your life because you aren’t crazy you know the life you are in isn’t the healthiest but you get by, you have found your peace and your direction. When it is all suddenly changed, you become so focused on the new plan.

I know how frantic I was, how stressed I was and I never want to experience it again. It was a time in my life that I reflect on and feel such anxiety, being anxious doesn’t mean you’re crazy either, it doesn’t mean you have this mental diagnoses, or this mental illness, it just simple means you are bloody stressed!
What causes stress is different for everyone, but for me what caused it was the fact that I was making a huge change with another person who was better off than I was yet I was the one with the income and I was the one who was supporting the relationship financially. It takes its toll, I am generous, if I love you I will give without hesitation but the right thing to do is, instead of taking and taking, is to help me out no matter what it takes. If someone is handing over money they are making sacrifices, and a relationship is supposed to be a two-way thing.

I seriously surprise myself because I know all of this yet my tunnel vision causes me to just be plain stupid. I can admit my faults, I can admit I have things I am not ready to talk about so I might avoid it, or if I am really pushed I might lie. I wouldn’t lie to gain, hurt or scam someone ever, I would for the sake of peace if someone wont drop things and I don’t trust them. Even my psychologist said telling those sorts of lies dont make you a bad person, remember that.

It might not seem like a big deal to most people but some will definitely understand, the hardest choice I made was to rehome my dog. I was away, I couldn’t take him where I was going even though believe me I wanted to! I couldn’t afford to support two adults and him, I was overwhelmed and felt very alone. I should not of rehomed him, I should have listened to my instincts and listened to others, the day I handed him over was the day I lost part of me as well.

The people who took him were friends of a friend, who loved dogs and seemed like very caring people and they are. I know this for sure now, after 6 months of tears, and worry about him, whether or not he has a good life, what does he look like now, wishing I could reach out.
My mum who is now closest to me saw my struggle, we are definitely animal loving people and she knew the pain. On my behalf she got in touch with his new owners, who assured me he is very loved and they even sent me photos.
I wasn’t the only one who cried looking at them, she did too. I hadn’t seen him in 8 months, I was sad but happy he was loved, happy that my baby looked happy.

Mum said to me “He has a name tag with a new name” she had zoomed into the picture and saw his dog tag said Jordy. I know he isn’t mine anymore and a new name for him means a new start but my heart shattered.
“I hate him, mum!” is what I sobbed that night, referring to the person I speak of above. I feel used, I feel like I was an ant being tortured by a kid with a magnifying glass, reacting to life on his terms.

I loved that dog so much, he was my savior, he showed me what loyalty and unconditional love really was. He was enough to get me through a dark time and he did it all with the biggest smile I have ever seen.

To me you will always be my Anakin.

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The phantom friend

It’s like that habit you have where you play with a ring on your finger, or touch an object in the house as you walk passed it every time.
When the object is removed by default you still reach out to touch it, to play with it, before realizing it is no longer there.

So often my hand reaches down to touch the once fluffy large head that always hovered around by my hip. I do it when I am anxious, sad or just not paying attention.

A pet’s peace.
by Tracy M. Johnson
Photo- my dog Anakin
by @biancapacitto (instagram)

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The cunning ways of a Gaslighter

He tore down the walls I had spent years putting up, but that’s all he had to do. I did the rest, I sabotaged my own world on his own terms.

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In my confused twisted mind, a mind that is riddled with thoughts of abuse, sadness and death. I still think he was right, the man who watched me burn.
I can switch from self-blame to hating him to the point where I fantasize about ripping him to shreds. It’s a vicious cycle.

I need to remember, or focus on remembering what I had done to me. I have been psychically abused before, but my bruises and cuts healed, I knew it was wrong, I knew where I stood. There is nothing for me that takes away the pain of being mentally tortured. To be diagnosed with mental problems I don’t have but made to think I actually do. Pushed to the point where I would lose it and that would prove my insanity.

A narcissist needs to be the victim, no matter how much turmoil they inflict upon you, they are the victim in the situation and you are over reacting. Their self-centered personality needs feeding, they need to feel like they’ve won.

This is my personal experience, but if you have ever suffered mental abuse at the hands of a narcissist on some level we are connected and have the mutual understanding of the fear that is endured.

I met a narcissist, I knew he was vain but in some way we all are, its key for our survival and loving yourself to some degree is healthy.
At first I didn’t mind, but months on when I let him into my life, when I shared my darkest thoughts and secrets I became prey. I became clay to be molded, sand to be sculpted.

I was living on his terms, I was gradually destroying my own peace of mind, I was unhappy but I was making my own choices, or was I?
Or was I just told over and over that it was my idea, until my depressed clouded brain believed it. It was my idea to pay for everything, my idea to give away thousands of my own money, my idea to relocate for work to support the both of us, and my idea to leave behind my pets.

It was my idea, but when someone tells you they care, someone who vows to always be there, someone who cannot be easily replaced, will never hurt me. Who supports everything I do, who listens to me when I am sad, who is admired by others, who is hard working….. The list could go on, they were all of this, when they put on their mask.
Underneath, they were none of this.

The cruelest thing I have ever had done to me was be strung along by someone who wanted to be a hero. They knew they only cared about themselves, they watched on by as I made the hardest decisions of my life so far.
I found a new home for my dog, a dog that was my real savior. He was my happiness, my smile on a rough day, my best friend.

I gave a piece of my soul away that day, all the while the narcissist sat upon his self entitled thrown, he held my heart while it shattered, without empathy.

I risk my clinically depressed mind because I was told I was fine I was told to pull myself together and find the way out because that’s what he had to do once, that one time he was suicidal. If you suffer from depression you know it’s not that easy. If you could just stop being sad, you would.

He wanted me to build myself back up in his imagine and was unsatisfied when I couldn’t or wouldn’t.
Nothing was his fault because I was mentally unstable, he couldn’t see that the bane of my existence was him. He caused the break down, he caused the most intense sadness I have ever experienced. Fear, like I have never felt fear before. For my own life, I didn’t trust myself, I could take pills, maybe. Maybe I could end the nightmare because I didn’t know which way was up and out.

I was scolded for reaching out to anyone else, he wanted me to go to him. I was afraid in the end, afraid of what information he would twist and turn into a half fabricated story mixed with truths to convince me of the evidence that I was just remembering incorrectly. I felt my mind slipping, I was confused about what was happening to me.
I began to lie, I would lie to save someone elses privacy from him as well as my own, I would lie to avoid an unnecessary fight, or to remove someone else from the firing line.

I had friends who had to endure also, endure punishment from the self entitled one. They saw from the outside how I had changed, how I was becoming. I was frantic, frustrated, stressed, exhausted. I was all this and he was unchanged, he appeared effortlessly cool and this was his cover.

I had sacrificed, my beloved animals, my happiness, my mental state. According to him he had sacrificed too, and this was his biggest lie. He had not sacrificed, not even his time because if I wanted to see him it was under his terms and conditions. On my hard-earned savings. Seeing me was a free holiday to another part of the world, something for him to brag about online, his travel, his exciting life.
It was my idea though, he never asked for the money. I wouldn’t see him if I didn’t pay and I have never been greedy with money. He knew this, he knew I would cave. I either paid or he wouldn’t bother.

You buy their false persona, their grandiose personality. They make you in some way pity them, their struggle. The struggle that might not even be real, or maybe it is it’s just blow out of proportion.
Their reality is mundane, really. They need to create the false self for others to see, they need to believe they are entitled to justify their shame.
The smallest criticism, fault, or wrong to a narcissist is magnified. They hold grudges for a long time, mostly so they can use it against you later on as an escape goat to shift the blame out of their court.

Being held accountable means they were wrong, they cannot be wrong, they must win.

How I ended up with three cats- One turned into three.

I’ve spoken a lot about dogs but they aren’t the only creatures on earth that can provide us with companionship and love.

Not only did I have to part with a dog, but I also left behind three cats. If you have read some of my previous blogs you will understand the reason behind this.
Rehoming my dog was a little harder to leave behind than my cats, the cats are still at the house I used to live, which is their home now, it is where they belong with someone who has been a close friend and by my side for past 12 years. The cats are still there, though not psychically with me but they are there if I wished to return and visit, not saying it wasn’t hard to leave them.

Now the cats are something I thought I would never leave behind, and if I did, I must be dead or missing, as my mum would say jokingly. I had known these guys since they were born, they were born right next to me at about 3am Easter morning in 2011.
I had rescued a little cat who I called Kitty, she was tiny but a huge handful. She was such a naughty little kitten, she had all the toys, climbing posts, and love she could possibly wish for but she would always be up to no good.
I was living in the small town of Narrabri, NSW and there was a local vet, mind you a very good local vet and I miss her a lot in recent years having acquired so many more pets. I had not gotten Kitty spayed yet she was around a year old at this point, she was an indoors cat as we lived right next to the Mcdonald’s drive through and there were too many cars.
One day she was having one of her “turbo spurt” moods where she would fly around the place jumping and leaping and eventually diving into her play tunnel and resting for a moment before repeating the process.
There was a knock at the door among all of Kitty’s chaos and as I opened it she flew out with a single leap and was free, free to continue her running, leaping game in the great outdoors all the way into a field next door.
I don’t recall who came to the door because my furbaby had just escaped and I had taken off after her.

Well I couldn’t find her anywhere I waited, I called, nothing! I was still sharing a place with my friend of 12 years at the time and he had returned from work to find me sobbing on the doorstep as I explained that Kitty had run away. We searched into the hours of the night, calling and shaking treat bags. Eventually we had to end the search party for the night.
He went back to work the next day and I continued looking, hoping that she would run out from a bush somewhere. I think three days had passed with no sign of Kitty, it was suggested to me that I accept she may not come back at all, I was heart-broken.

Not for long though as she turned up the very next day I had, had the discussion of she might be gone for good.
I was so happy that she had come home I didn’t think about what she might have been up to, my mum who I spoke to on the phone said maybe get her “fixed” as she believed it might stop her wild adventures…. a little. I was going to get it done anyway, however when I finally got her book in it was too late, she was pregnant!

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She was a good mamma, and there were no complications with the birth, only thing I found a little odd is she didn’t nest or hide, the night she went into labor she insisted on sleeping right next to me.
She had 4 little kittens, all roughly the same colour expect for the last one, he was a tiny little ginger thing and I loved him.
After watching them all grow for 8 weeks, finding them good homes was hard, I was very picky about where they would go and I insisted on meeting everyone first. I had rehomed the two tabby ones and planned on keeping the grey one because he was a slow learner, fussy eater and had very watery eyes due to allergies and I wasn’t sure if someone would get him the proper medical treatment he required. My friend named him Teddy Bear.
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The ginger cat was the last one to go, no one really wanted him or asked about him. I would watch him and Teddy play together, he was just so sweet. He was the runt of the litter but started to overtake everyone else by the time he was 6 weeks old. The day came when someone contacted me through the ad I had put on Gumtree for the kittens and said they were interested in the ginger kitten, now this is where I did something slightly naughty. My friend and I were moving on from Narrabri to a bigger house all the way down in Cessnock, NSW. We were due to leave in a week and make the long journey and take Kitty and Teddy with us. Finding a rental that allows pets was hard, and it took months, I was lucky to be able to keep one of the kittens let alone two.
Yep, that’s right, I ignored the email I got asking me about Gingey and when my friend asked I simply shrugged and said “too bad no one wants him.” So Gingey also became a part of the family and stole a giant piece of my heart.

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