It’s amazing how any time I manage to write about something positive, there is an equal and opposite reaction to contradict what I’ve expressed to the world. Because I was down, the night got crazy. Both my mother-in-law and my dad had to come over at different times which worked Asia up. Then she probably didn’t get taken out enough. She certainly has not been exercised properly because we have both have been so sick and stressed and now it’s cold. So Sir took the girls to Meijer since I couldn’t go and didn’t put Asia in her crate, and my door was closed, but eventually I heard suspicious noise and jingling of tags through the Zanaflex veil and stumbled into Alexandra’s room and the dog had of course destroyed her two most precious things and tossed them about and chewed them up. On Zanaflex I get very sedated, and I had deliberately taken enough so I would fall asleep with the DHE and sleep through the night. So having to deal with this level of disaster was impossible. I just wanted to sink to the floor and cry, and I wanted to erase what had happened or at least clean it up but my body wasn’t going to work in such an obedient fashion. I should have FORCED it. Mothers lift cars off their children, I should have willed my body through the motions of cleaning up that room but I shut X’s door and sent Sir a text about what happened and told him to warn her gently, but not let her see. I hoped Asia would get on the bed with me but then it became clear she needed to go out. Now, there was truly no option for me. So glad my pain had diminished, but so sedated. (There is a reason I am very careful with Zanaflex, it is a powerful drug for me.) And now I would have to put on pants and shoes and walk down the stairs with the dog and find the leash and find my coat and take her outside and wait for her to go then come inside and get some biscuits and lead her to the crate and put her inside and walk back upstairs. And collapse onto the bed short of breath and with my ears ringing.
And then, she started to bark.
But I do love my dog. None of that was her fault. I feel like it is my fault but I’m not allowed to say that. People get very upset with me. But Asia would have had her needs met if I hadn’t succumbed today and my daughter’s heart wouldn’t have been broken by, yes, running upstairs and seeing the destruction of her Pokemon card binder and the box which held her rubber band bracelet maker, tiny bright rainbow rubber bands strewn across the floor like every bad cliche ever written. And I heard her wracking sobs and they echoed and ricocheted like bullets. And I cursed myself for every little thing.
Yes, I do love my dog. BUT I HATE THIS FUCKING ILLNESS.