My husband surprised me with a Wolf Face Pomeranian and it’s the cutest, sweetest, most laid back darling little thing.
I love him already! But I’m scared to death that I’ll do wrong by him.
2 years ago, before my Bipolar diagnosis, I was in the worst depression I’ve ever experienced. I did not leave my bed for 3 weeks except to use the restroom. I didn’t eat, didn’t bathe, I literally did not leave my bed. During this time I had a dog. A dog I adored. She was a Terrier mix and 4 years old.
She was mine and mine alone. My husband or son did not help with her.
During this time my husband and I were having marital issues and he just thought I was being lazy. So instead of helping and being there for me he did nothing. Our house was a disaster. No clothes were clean. Our kitchen was disgusting. I have always been the sole cleaner of the house and during that time it showed.
Anyway, during my depression period I could not take care of her. Needless to say, she’s not with us anymore. My heart was broken because I could not pull myself out of my depression to care for her. I killed her because of neglect and I still have not forgiven myself for it. To know that I did that to her was unforgivable to me. After she died is when I went to my Doctor to beg for help. After that is when I got my diagnosis and started the long road of medication trial and errors that got me out of the deep depression.
My husband knows that I longed for another pet. He decided to research and surprise me as a Christmas present. He thinks that I won’t fall off again. And possibly I won’t, but it still scares me. It scares me to no end. At the moment I work a full time job. I leave my house at 7 in the morning and I’m home at 6 at night. How am I supposed to take care of a puppy when I’m never home? How can I take care of a puppy when my medication is about to change again?It worries me. I do not want him to have the same fate as our last dog. It’s starting to stress me out because I keep worrying about it.
For now I’ll love him and give him the best home I can possibly give him. As for right now my husband and son are helping with him. So, to me that’s a little promising. It means I’m not completely alone in taking care of him but it’s not lessening my fears any.
I really hated writing this one. The only people who know what happened to our old dog is my husband and myself. It’s embarrassing to talk about. That I was so out of my head that I couldn’t even function. I couldn’t save one of the only things that gave me joy and unconditional love.
I decided to write about it because I want to be real and raw. I want to be vulnerable. I want people to be able to see what it’s really like to have this disorder.