at some point i’ll think of a better blog name. for now it works fine.
a month and a half ago i lost my best friend. mako rolled into my life when i was a dumbass little 15 year old and stuck with me for so long, through thick and thin, whatever sort of metaphor or image you can think of. for a 16 pound pug, she’s left the biggest hole in my heart. you’d think she was an elephant.
i’m still running from a lot of my feelings about this stuff and i gotta say, it fucking sucks. but how do you confront the concept that your entire concept of “the only constant” was a little pup that had the worst breath i’ve ever smelled in my entire life? how do you do that when your pocketbook of memories lacks moments without her? you can’t remember much of your early years together, but she was always there to keep you going. when everything else failed me, mako was the light and all encompassing love that kept me sane. just a boy and their dog. i’m still a boy with a dog- freckles is absolutely incredible and i’m so thankful that we found each other. and i know i’m not looking for the new/next mako because it’s not like that. there’s only one mako and i will never be the same.
i think part of why i’ve continued to run from my sadness and grief is because the concept of really letting myself feel that empty hole, i’ll get sucked in and i won’t be able to get back out for awhile. i’ve felt a lot of things in my life but this is the worst of it and letting it be the full effect worries me. i know my support group wouldn’t let anything happen if i were to fall like that at some point. i know they’re there and they’re wonderful and they mean the universe to me. the idea of being so out of control with my emotions is a gross old shitty plant in my brain garden that i can’t seem to uproot. there are so many internalized stigmas and learned behaviors from worse times in my life that even after weekly therapy sessions (that was a thing before we lost mako in general. i’ve only missed a few weeks over the last few years) i can’t seem to chip away at it. i know how to fucking talk about all sorts of things but letting out that first dramatic sob that feels like it lasts for hours before you can inhale again is scary to me.
i ramble myself in circles and get caught up in issues that aren’t even issues; i just need something to focus on to hold it off cos i’m not ready. but at the same time i’m mad at myself for not even letting me deal with it all. this is the first time i’ve let myself say more than a few sentences about how this has been making me feel.
but mako deserves better from me. some day i’ll sift through some of these emotions and i’ll stop hiding and avoiding. i’m thankful for all the time we had together. i just wish it wasn’t so short. grief is like a blanket of bricks.
a thing that was suggested to me by my brain care team was to write down lessons that i learned from/with mako and to thank her for them. maybe that’ll help. i don’t know. i talk to her daily. i hope she still hears me.