Cut And Run

There was someone in my life once who was destroying me. Had I not cut him out of my life like a cancerous lump, I would be dead now, or worse. It was the most difficult and painful thing I've done in my life, and I'm better for it, but it has warped me. Throwing people away is not something I do innately. That's why it was so hard the first time, but after that, it became second nature. 

Every time someone I loved hurt me badly, cutting them out seemed like the only solution. The more I did it, the easier it became. I thought I was protecting myself, but I was just being a selfish jerk. I was a coward. I was an ice-cold bitch. I was despicable.

I'm sorry.

I'm pouring my heart out on the internet for the whole world to see, because I know some of you will be reading this, because you haven't given up on me like I gave up on you. You haven't forgotten how to forgive like I have.

The one who purposely made me feel deficient because I couldn't give you what you needed. You were a prick, but you gave me everything, and I know it must have been frustrating to get nothing back. Call it even and be friends?

The sister-from-another-mister who always chose men over me, ignored me when there was someone around whom you wanted, treated me like competition. It made me feel like shit, but I understand why you do that. I know you were a true friend, even when you wished I wasn't there with you. You'd been there for me for so long. I'm sorry I'm not there for you now.

And You, who kept cutting me out whenever I offended you. We're fucking soul mates, bitch. We'll never get along, and we'll never be friends again, but I know you still love me. And now you know I still love you.

Forgive me.

10 Reasons Why I Love My Job

I'm a veterinary nurse. I've been working in a busy veterinary clinic for nearly a year. It has its ups and downs. This is why I love it.

1. Cats
You guessed it. Cats are number 1 on the list. I love cats. I understand cats, and they understand me. Not many people have this gift; it's a big plus for me. I've always loved spending time with cats, and it's quite awesome to do it for a living.

Of course, not all the time I spend with cats at my job is fun. I poke and prod cats, touch them where they don't want to be touched, force them to eat when they don't want to, stick things in their orifices, and sometimes, inevitably, cause them pain. I give them a hard time, and they give it right back to me. We still try to be friends, though.

2. Cat People
I meet a lot of cat people at my job, and every time, it's like meeting a soul mate. It's an instant connection, almost as effortless as with cats. We may not have the same views on cats, or anything else, but we know cats, and we love cats, so that bond is always there.

And all cat people love talking about cats. We could go on for hours. I love it when cat people talk to me from the heart. Sometimes it gives me goosebumps, they look right in my eyes and it's as if they touch my soul. I've heard some incredible things about cats that have stuck with me, and here are some of them:

"It's heart pain to bring a stray cat to the vet, but more pain to just leave him."

"Rescued cats never forget what you've done for them, even after they die."

"Feeding stray cats is not charity, it's humanity."

"What have I done in my past life that makes me so crazy about you cats? I'll be taking care of you until the day I die!"

The last one was said by a crazy cat lady vet. She's hilarious. 

3. Colleagues

I love my colleagues. They're amazingly passionate, caring, comradely, and hilarious. We have our differences, but we have good working relationships, and friendships.

Among my fellow nurses, I've found great role models. They're the reason why I'm good at my job. They taught me how to be a good nurse, and I'll always be grateful, even to those who don't work with me any more.

I've also found great friends at work, though some are more special than others. (You know who you are.) Friendship is not a relationship I take lightly, and it's important to me that I have friends at work. And I'm sure all of them will attest that I'm an amazingly good friend as well. 

I'm sorry to say, though, that I don't love all my colleagues. They're not all good people. Which leads me to my next point.

4. Drama

I admit that I have sometimes been the fomenter of workplace drama. When I first joined my clinic, I vowed that I'd never get involved in politics and drama, but it's not easy. It sucked me in like a tornado, and before I knew it, I was in deep.

It's hard not to get involved when you care about your job and your colleagues. Even if certain actions and events don't affect me directly, I can't help but fight against them. Unlike some people, though, I do it overtly. I don't like to go behind people's backs or be passive aggressive, not because I'm such a good person, but because I get quicker, better results when I address issues directly. It's easier to get a positive outcome.

All this leads to some unpleasantness, but that makes work more interesting. Of course, I don't instigate drama just for the fun of it, but when it comes up nonetheless, I make the most of it.

5. Pressure

Some people work well under pressure. I work only under pressure.

I never studied except for major exams. I never cook unless I'm starving. I never even clean my house until it's a health hazard. But when the pressure's on, I can ace my exams, cook delicious food, and clean so spotlessly that I can eat my delicious food right off the floor. 

The pressure is definitely on at my job. A high workload, the sheer number of patients, and life-and-death situations make it very intense. Plus, our patients are animals, who don't understand what we do to them, and our clients can be very ignorant and difficult. Both can be very uncooperative.

But I love it. I flourish under pressure. If I worked at a clinic which wasn't so demandingly busy, I wouldn't be as good at my job.

6. Karma

I'm not a Buddhist or a Hindu, but I'm a believer in karma. Don't ask me why, I don't know. I was born this way. Maybe I'm the reincarnation of Buddha. (Yeah, right, I love shopping.)

I don't do my job for the karma, but I've seen the karmic benefits. 

I'm not saying I'm selflessly saving animals. To be clear, I'm not saving animals. Most of what I do is just making life a little easier for them until they die. 

I'm talking about what I do for people. I'm not so cynical that I don't care about people. I'm not so anti-social that I won't interact with people in my animal-oriented job. I'm not such a crazy cat lady that I don't realise that humans are animals, too. 

I'm not going to spell out what my karmic benefits are, but let's just say: Whatever I give to my colleagues and clients, I get back in loads.

7. Grief

No, I don't love grief. It's difficult. It's painful. What I like is that my job has made me better at grieving. 

I used to cry for days when an animal died. I cried for stray cats run over by vehicles, dogs who died of cancer, birds caught in rat traps, even lab animals euthanised at the end of experiments.

But I've learned that death isn't always terrible. I've seen animals that suffered horribly from incurable disease. I've seen animals so weak that they'd lost the will to live. I've seen victims of abuse that didn't deserve the pain they went through. 

I've also seen survivors. Dogs that wake up from emergency surgery without missing a beat. Cats with huge, infected wounds that tolerate pain like champions. Sick little newborns that thrive and grow up beautifully. It gives me strength. It gives me faith in medicine. I know that death can be put off.

But I know we can't save them all, and that helps too. Grief is easier when you're prepared for it. When you know death is coming, and it's inevitable, and you have to get ready for bereavement. It softens the heart, so it doesn't get broken so badly.

I also get closure. Part of my job is cleaning the bodies and preparing them for cremation. It gives me closure to know that the animal has left its diseased, injured, or infected body. It's gone.

I'm not jaded. I still tremble when I find that an animal has died in its cage. I still get paralysed with sorrow when old men weep for their dead dogs. I still lock myself in the restroom and sob when kittens pass away. 

But then there's more life for me to take care of.

8. Caring

It is said that in order to be whole, you have to give to others what you lack. What I've always lacked is care, and I get to give it as part of my job. It's filling me up. I feel bigger, heavier, and better every day.

9. Exhaustion

I don't sleep well. Just like I can't work unless under pressure, I can't rest unless I'm exhausted. When I sleep, I sleep by fits and starts, and the little sleep I get is affected by dreams. Lucky for me, my job is exhausting. Most days when I come home from work, I'm mentally and physically drained. 

Insomnia has no chance against this kind of tiredness. Disturbance and depression want me to stay up all night, but the tiredness won't stand for it. It gives me a healthy appetite for food, and sometimes even blissful, dreamless sleep. Paradoxically, the more tired I get, the less tired I am.

10. Happiness

Those who know me well know I'm a grumpy old bitch, and I don't really care about being happy. I'm fine with anger, bitterness, and depression. 

But I am happy at my job. Not always, but generally. It makes me happy to make a living doing what I love. It makes me happy to be with cats, and cat people, and my colleagues. It makes me happy to be exhausted. I'm happy because I love my job, and I love my job because it makes me happy.

Life

Depression has driven me to write again. So read.

I love my job, but it is fucking awful. I'm surrounded by outsiders who treat me like an outsider. I see animals suffering, and I can't always make them well. I can foresee death, and I always feel like I had a part in it.

Animals with terminal diseases don't die quickly. They don't want to die; they fight. My job is to help them feel better. And when they feel better, they stop fighting.

It's peaceful.

That's what bothers me. Death as a provider of peace. Death as a solution to suffering.

Because I have no peace. I have a lot of suffering.

I often notice a Christian acquaintance of mine sing songs about her "lord" and read her bible when she's depressed. I wonder how that helps. I never understood the appeal of religion.

What helps me is cats. Nobody else understands how cats appeal to me. Maybe cats are like my religion. Maybe I'm an Ancient Egyptian reincarnated.

I can't imagine enjoying a job that doesn't involve cats as much, but I know I will eventually leave my clinic. I love my job and I love my clinic, but people aren't happy there, and it takes a toll on me.

All I know is that the future will be both better and worse.

And then I'll die.

Love

I wish I never knew what it feels like to be in love.

Bloody hell.

I fell in love with a pretty face.
I fell in love with playfulness.
I fell in love with foolishness and self-destruction.
I fell in love with strength and misery.
I fell in love with insanity and exhilaration.
I fell in love with passion.
I fell in love with love.

But love isn't enough.

Love and passion are great. It feels amazing to be swept off my feet by love, to lose my mind with passion, to lose my self in someone else's world.

I need that.

I also need respect, honesty and thoughtfulness.

Memories fade. Now that it's over, memories of lies, selfishness and disrespect fade. Feelings of disappointment, heartache and agony are forgotten.

Faith

Religion is not spirituality.

Spirituality is the connection you feel with everything in the known universe, not just the connection you feel with "god." I understand why many, many people need god to feel this connection, but I don't. I don't need a middle-man between me and the universe.

I feel connected to the sun; I know without it, there would be no life. I feel its warmth and see its light and understand why it's the reason for my existence.
I feel connected to the sea; although I'm terrified of it and everything that lives in it. I see its enormous, airless, deadly wonder, even though I'll never belong in it.
I feel connected to every living being, be they human, animal, plant, or microbe. We can't live without one another. We are all connected, whether we feel so or not. And we all share the struggle of survival, although in varying degrees of complexity.

And I have faith. I have faith in humanity. I know people are all terrible in their own unique way, but I couldn't believe in myself if I didn't have faith in humanity. Even terrible people are good in some way. Even Hitler loved his dog; they were best friends.

I have faith in nature. I know that even when I can't see it, the sun is always there, giving life to some microorganisms and plants that will eventually give life to me and everything that I love. I know that water evaporates to the sky and falls back to the ground in a wet, hot, circle of life. I know that life is a circle.

And I have faith in life. I believe in living for the past, the present, and the future; everything matters. I believe that happiness comes from the mind; you have to find it within yourself. I believe that my sorrow is worthwhile, just like all my emotions; ignoring it will just wreck me. I believe in my fears, but I don't let them stop me from doing what makes me happy.

I'm happy. I'm content. I have a good life. I have excellent friends; people who know me and love me. I have a fulfilling job in which I can make a difference in the world. I have very satisfying hobbies that feed my mind and make it pink with health. I have just enough money so that I can pay for myself. I have two beautiful cats that have changed my life as much I have changed theirs. I have mental strength. I have confidence and determination. I have spirituality. I have faith.

That's why it hurts my feelings when people say that I'm missing something by not believing in god. Why not look at all these things that I do believe in? How can you judge me by what I don't believe in?

What hurts even more is when people I trust with my feelings try to use them to convert me. When I tell someone that I'm sad, I expect them to think, "I must do something to make Bavani feel better," not "This is a good opportunity to bring Bavani to my way of thinking." I need sympathy and love from you, not from Jesus.

Don't tell me that I'm sick because I don't pray.
Don't tell me that I'm unhappy because I don't believe in god.
Don't tell me that I need Jesus to make me happy.

I am a good person. I use my free time to do volunteer work. I don't eat meat out of compassion for factory animals. I spend money from my limited income to buy food for those in need. I try to treat everyone with kindness, even those who have wronged me. I reflect on every action I take to make sure I don't repeat any mistakes. I make sure that my conscience is clear before I listen to it. I do whatever I can to improve the lives of others.

I have never tried to make someone feel bad on purpose so that they'll believe in the same god as me. I have never told anyone with a genetic auto-immune disease that they wouldn't have gotten sick if they had found Jesus. I have never told anyone that they're all alone and that they wouldn't be so depressed if they went to church.

I have never hurt anyone in the name of religion.

If indeed your omniscient god exists, he would judge me a good human being.

What would he think of you?

My Monster

There is an enormous monster always standing behind me. It finds pleasure in taunting me, causing me pain, watching me suffer.

It makes all food taste bitter. It makes my friends seem like enemies. It points out death everywhere, in everything. It makes all the colours grey. It makes my muscles weak and my mind numb. It creeps into my head at night when I'm in bed and gives me nightmares.

It holds me back by my scruff and makes me struggle to move forward.

And yet it offers comfort. It whispers seductively into my ear, coaxing me to let go and fall back into its big, strong arms, promising to hold me tightly and keep me safe.

But it lies.

It will only pin me down gradually with its horrifying weight, slowly sliding its hands up around my throat and squeezing steadily, reveling in my increasingly terrified gasps and cries of desperation.

Still, it will whisper sweetly to me, assuring me that it will stop torturing me if I just give in and let it take me. That if I stop struggling and let it into myself, it will take me to a place where there is no pain, no suffering, no nightmares, no struggles. A place where there is nothing at all.

A place where I can rest, in peace.


This is what depression feels like.

True Friend

Get ready to read some cheesy, fucking positive stuff. Following all the negative stuff.

True friendship means love to me. There is no human relationship I cherish more.

Of course, like most cherish-able things, it is very hard to find. It's not easy to distinguish true friends from those who merely seem like true friends.

People are often untruthful, even to themselves. They tell themselves that they're good friends, and they believe it, so they make their friends believe it too.

I'm writing "they," but I mean you, my friend. I mean for you to reflect upon yourself, and your friendship with me. If you feel singled out, you know you're whom I'm talking about. You know it's your guilty conscience making you feel like a victim.

"True friends are not easy to get rid of," a true friend said to me once. She was right. She's still here. And you're gone. Gone from my life, gone from my heart. All it took were a few words. All I had to do was try to incite a reaction from you, and you ran.

True friends do not give up on friendships and quit, over and over again, just because they can't be bothered to stick out a fight. They love you enough to endure the anguish, and the pain of healing, together.
True friends do not feel pity when you open up and show them your scars. They feel sorrow, anger, compassion. They don't belittle your suffering even if they don't understand it. And they try to understand.
True friends stand by you no matter how great your need is. Even when your burden is so heavy it flattens you, they try to shift it so you can breathe.
True friends do judge you; all of you. Not just your mistakes and flaws, but your virtues, too. And when they find they can't accept something about you, they try to change you for the better, instead of discarding you like a rotten piece of fruit.
True friends are kind to those who are important to you even if they do not approve of them.
True friends try to make things better after they've hurt you. They don't just lay low until everything blows over.
True friends give you as much of them as you give them of yourself.

Listen, my friend.

I was angry that you didn't treat me the way I should have been treated. I tried to make you fulfill my expectations, and lashed out in frustration when you didn't. I was disappointed that you didn't care for me as much as I thought you did. I'm sorry.

For whatever reason, you weren't able to be a true friend. And that's okay. I forgive you. I enjoyed the good times we shared, and learned from the bad times we didn't share. Even though it wasn't worth it in the end (and this truly is the end), I don't regret any of it.

I'm glad I made myself vulnerable to you. I'd do it again. Because (pay attention, my friend) that's how true friends are made.

You take down your fences and let people in. You roll onto your back and expose your belly. You remove your facade and show your true colours.

And maybe, one or two people won't walk all over you. They won't rip out your guts. They won't turn their backs on you.

They'll accept you and love you. They'll see what a wonderful person you are along with your character flaws, and they'll love you for all of it. They won't think any less of you for the poor choices you make even as they help you pick up the pieces when you fall. They won't hesitate to take care of you when you need it, nor to ask for care when they do. They'll be as vulnerable to you as you are to them.

They'll be true friends.

And when you have someone like that, you better hold on to them with all your strength. Make sure they hold on to you, too. You'd be a fool to lose them.


You're a fool, my friend.