Tuesday, 30 June 2009

Final warning; Chapter closed...

...but to be revisited at some point in the future.

Care to explain? Of course.
So this evening I went to my local police station to receive my final warning. All in all it went ok. The sargeant or whoever he was, was a very nice man who seemed fairly sympathetic to my situation, and the seemingly random woman in the corner (who turned out to be from the Youth Offending Team) was equally so. He admitted that initially, upon reading the case notes and statements from the bouncers etc, he was all ready to get me banned from al pubs and clubs in Exeter, but that after reading the background and talking to me, he realised that really wasn't necessary. Something to be thankful for. He did what I presume is the usual "what have you learnt from this?" things, and spoke about how important it is that I learn to balance my medication with alcohol etc. But in general he seemed to understand why what had happened had happened, and expressed his sympathies for the shit life's thrown at me recently.

Then he threw a little curve ball at me.


He first explained that a final warning is basically a "does what it says on the tin" jobby, in that if I get into any more trouble with the police, it'll be a caution and/or prosecution. Then he asked me what I wanted to do in my future life, career wise. I was a little confused but not overly worried, so told him that one of my passions has always been teaching, so that'd be something I'd want to persue in the future.

Upon my saying the word "teaching" he gave the YOT rep a little look. Ah. A problem.

Basically, long story short when it comes to a final warning, although it is not a criminal record and so when applying for normal jobs I wont have to tick "yes" to the criminal question, it is the kind of information still held on me. So when I apply for any job that calls for an extended CRB check, (eg teaching) then it will be available to the employer. I was advised by the YOT rep that in such a case, its much better to 'own up' as it were, tell them before they ask you why you were hiding it when they do a check, and then I'm more than likely to get a chance to explain the situation and how/why it happened. The fact that it happened when I was 17, following another trauma, was basically a case of self-defense that went a little too far and that it was classed as common assault (the lowest form of assault), meant that the sargeant was inclined to think that it would be surprising if an employer were not to act sympathetically about it. Talking to my dad too, he told me that people have got jobs as a teacher with much worse on their records, so I probably shouldn't be too worried. Although that may be the case, there is obviously a part of me that is upset by that revelation. It just feels like one more thing that could possibly affect my future, and that makes me a bit angry as well as sad.

But that aside, that chapter is closed. The 'to be revisited in the future' of this blog title obviously refers to the fact that the warning could crop up on an extended CRB check. But the chapter is closed.

Now for the rest of the fucking book...

piffle.

It's 0550AM. I'm still awake. I'm really tired, just still awake. I haven't yet slept. Now I'm hungry. I want to sleep. Is there any point now? My eyes hurt. My cigarettes are downstairs so I can't even smoke. I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm tired.

Sleeping to a final warning.

Firstly, you may notice that this blog has changed colour :) I've been debating since this blog's inception whether to go for the black or white, and having initially gone for the white I decided to change for a while. Whimsical, I know.

I realise I haven't really properly updated in a while, and its not because I've been tremendously busy, but due to lack of energy really. All this sitting around, sleeping, watching television and doing bugger all can really take it out of a girl. But seeing as I'm awake at half 3 in the morning again unable to sleep, just for a change, I thought I might as well.
As you may be aware, sleep has been a real problem for me recently. I've never been the greatest sleeper, and while I was at high school (especially in the last two years) I would usually get to sleep at about midnight and then have to be up at about 6.30AM; cue falling asleep in various lessons. My sleep pattern didn't really fix any when I moved up to college, in fact it got worse. Whereas I'd usually struggle to sleep before midnight, it was now nearer 1AM before I'd finally feel able to sleep, and then I'd hate getting up in the mornings (though you could just put that down to me being a typical teenager).
Now my sleep pattern is basically a pile of stinking, humming shit. I'm lucky if I get to sleep before 3AM most nights, but more frequently I find myself still not able to sleep at about 4/4.30AM. Last night I was still awake at 5AM.

It's really actually a problem; besides the obvious annoyance of not being able to get to sleep, it means that I'm often still asleep in bed approaching mid-day, so I'm losing out. But its a destructive pattern. I cant get to sleep but then I do I wake up late, but then I'm still up at stupid-o'clock so I'm up late again...etc. And it's not like I'm not tired at 3 in the morning, of course I am, but apparently with my body feeling so utterly tired that my eyes are burning and my muscles are screaming, isn't possibly good enough to warrant sleep. I can be so tired that my eyes are closing, but the minute I lay down in that bed, I wont sleep. It's endlessly frustrating, so that becomes a cycle of its own.
I was prescribed some fairly mild sleeping tablets a while back, at my own request, but for some reason I'm too scared to take them. Although some days I feel like I want to go to sleep and never wake up again, when I think about taking the sleeping tablet, I'm petrified that I wont wake up. Rationally, of course I know it wont happen, but there's a part of me that says, "So what if doctors and scientists have done tests, so what if this is a mild dose, what if there's something weird about my body and I have a reaction and dont wake up?" etc. Mad I know.

So I here I am stuck in another quandry, a ridiculous and frustrating cycle that I cant break. Might as well put it to good use, right?

The last you heard from me was a short boring post generally updating you on my life's more mundane going-ons, and that all still stands. That whole list of things I want to get done is still just as long, minus maybe one or two magazines from the stack. It's another current frustration that there are things I need and want to get done, to start doing things and getting back to normal again, but I just have no energy. Some of that is due to the weight issues too, but thats for another day.

I guess the main thing to report is regarding the assault saga. As you may remember, as it recently stood, I went to court and my solicitor recommended, in simpletons terms, that the fact I was being charged was ridiculous seeing as I've never been in trouble before and in light of recent events, and that I should receive a final warning at most. The prosecution agreed and the court agreed to a three week adjournment. The papers would be sent to the police for them to arrange for me to go to my local police station on one the slots on Tuesdays where they give out final warnings, to be given mine. If I didnt hear from the police in the three weeks alloted I would have to go back to court this Wednesday for it to be adjourned yet again until the police get their arses in gear.

Last Thursday I had an appointment with my support worker for my other case, and I mentioned to her that I hadnt yet heard from the police and I would ideally like to not have to go back to court again, so she said that she'd try and find out what was happening, seeing as part of her job is that she has a bit of influence with the police. The next day I got a phone call from her to tell me that she'd had a word with a friendly officer who would get me on the list for this Tuesday's time slot, and that as a letter would take too long to reach me before Wednesday's court date, an officer would have to come round and inform me. Apparently this kind of situation cant be handled over the telephone, it has to be done in person. The officer she had spoken to, however, works nights, so unless he could assign it to another officer on patrol I would be getting a knock on the door some time after 10pm. In some ways this would have been preferable, as the neighbours would have been less likely to see uniformed cops at the door and wonder what was going on (as it was, my next door neighbours, the nosiest and most gossipy neighbours ever known to live next door to anyone, were away, but there are other eyes around!), but alas, things never go simply for me do they. Shortly after she spoke to me on the phone the doorbell rang. Now I'm not too keen on people at the moment, and seeing as I jump and get nervous over most noises I was more than a little nervous when I heard it go. But upon popping my head round the living room doorframe it was obvious who it was. I really had to try not to laugh though when I opened the door to see a male officer about 7ft tall and a female officer who was about 4ft tall. They couldn't have been all that much more pc if they'd tried. They did the usual "are you so-and-so? You were accused of blah-de-blah" and then told me that I had to go to my local police station at 6.30PM that Tuesday to receive a final warning. As soon as I shut the door to them I immediately panicked - did they say 6.30? or was it 6? half 5? no, definately half 6...yes? Silly fool.
From the kitchen I could then see them loitering outside my gate for a good 5 minutes as they radioed on their walkie talkies, and I mentally thanked them for adding to the neighbourly intrigue.

So as of 6.30PM today (being Tuesday, thanks to stupid o'clock) one nasty chapter will be over. As long as all runs to plan. Which I really shouldn't have just said should I?...bugger. One nasty chapter of this tiring, gloomy, dragging slog of a book that I like to call my life, will be over. It's just one more strange, nasty and surreal chapter, but I can at least say goodbye to it.

For now, I am going to have a technically-not-allowed cigarette out of the window, and then try and get to sleep. I expect to wake up at around 2PM tomorrow. Of course, what happens when I do get to sleep, well, thats another story for another blog entry, for another day...

Friday, 26 June 2009

Moving.

Just a relatively sparse post today.
Things seem to be moving along nicely in my world, touch wood. Had my first go in a car on fathers day, I did stall first time :( but second time managed a lap of the car park :D then I broke the car. Well, I didnt, but the problem decided to ruin my driving as I thought I stalled and then the car wouldnt start again. Poor car is still in the garage and having to be transferred to a diesel specialist as our garage is stumped. Poor car.
My provisional licence arrived this week and Im booking a taster lesson asap. By taster I mean I want to find out whether I want to learn intensively or non intensively - I know I want to drive. Quite excited about that! Got a visit from two friendly police officers earlier on today telling me that I need to go to my local police station at 6.30 on Tuesday, which means that chapter will finally be over. A final warning is one step below a caution so thats a piece of marginally good news too.
Bunnies doing well, took them to the vets the other day for a health check and their myxomatosis vaccination and it turns out they may in fact be sisters not brothers! Will keep you posted. They're both developing their personalities and tastes for their favourite plants in the garden that they're not supposed to eat! Little scamps...but they're so cute I cant get mad at them :)

Other than that, just got a few things I want to get done. Here's a rough idea;
  • get my verse moleskine up to date with stuff I have managed to write
  • start on the cahier
  • read the huge stack of magazines waiting to be finished/started
  • clean up my macs hard drive 
  • get reading The Unbearable Lightness Of Being and do the college assignment
  • sort out my desk drawers and assorted crrraaaaap.
  • get writing some more verse! really want to :)
  • get new pens :)
So there you have it, my little update for today. Cant really be bothered to go into more detail over everything cos I'm tired lol and, if I'm honest, cant be bothered in the slightest at the moment :) 

Oh and by the way, IM MELTING!






Friday, 19 June 2009

Retreat.

So it's 03.49 by my phone as I start writing this, as I finally get to bed. The reason for my late bed time is a good heartfelt chat with my mother. Somehow we always end up having these big talks were I pour my heart out in the small hours. Not had so many recently, and with things being so strained at home over the last few days it was good to bond again. It started off talking about driving, with us both sat on the sofa and mum teaching me how to drive :) you see, I sent off for my provisional liscence the other day and on fathers day mum has said I can drive her car :) god knows how we got from that to me talking about how shit I feel, crying lots and then crying some more over my friends.
Basically at the end of it all, my mum spoke wisely; (Not that she didn't throughout the chat) I need help. Professional help. There's so many unaddressed issues I need to deal with and I can't start to heal and move on with my life unless I do.
And then she said something that I thought would upset me, but didn't. "If it came to it, and if it's possible, do you think going away somewhere for a month or so would help?" Admittedly yes at first I thought she was suggesting a holiday, but then realised what she meant. She tried to sweeten it but basically she meant would I be up for something like rehab, or a retreat somewhere with the right kind of psychological help on tap 24/7 and the right kind of facilities, if I thought it would help or would be worth a shot.
And the funny thing is, the more I think about it, the more ok that sounds. Sure, I don't want to be a 'nutter' but if it would help then surely it's worth a try? Certainly, at the minute I'm definately not getting the right support I need, and being at home not feeling able to leave the house, and being so close to everything and everyone that's added to my problems over the years, isn't doing my any good. So maybe getting away for a while would be the right thing for me. Definately worth a think, right?

But right now I need to cut this short and dead and get some sleep. Which should be easier said than done with all the bloody morning birds outside twittering and twatting around.

Morning all. Wake well.


iPhone post

Wednesday, 10 June 2009

Looking up?

First of all I would like to start with a thanks to all of you on here and/or twitter who have been so supportive over the recent months, and especially over the last few days: you're brilliant.

Now to business. As some of you will know I was due in court today in relation to allegations of assualt, as explained in a previous post. My solicitor had expected a caution but instead the police pressed charges. After Monday's devastation of losing Rocky, and staying up into the small hours crying with my mum and waking my dad up with my sobs as it all got a bit too much for me, losing him, I woke up tired and with a headache. We went to the court and I was so utterly nervous.

However, good news was to be had.

After we had booked in and waited for a while, the solicitor who would be representing me called the four of us (my brother came too for support, the star) into a room to talk. He told us that he had written to the prosecution basically saying "come on, we both know this is ridiculous to persue a trial, with no previous convictions and her current personal situation, surely a final warning/caution would be more than enough?". Mum and dad said they had known this but didn't tell me as they didn't want to get my hopes up. He then told me that the prosecution agreed and was happy to let it go back to the police for them to give me a caution (as long as they dont decide to be nasty and still push for trial), meaning no trial, no criminal record, and that this would be over.

I cannot explain the feeling of relief that washed over me...all the tension in my body seemed to disappear and I could have cried (had I not used all my tears up last night over Rocky). I looked up and saw my dad holding back tears ( not very well I might add ) and my mothers relief was plain.

I did still have to go into the court room, but my solicitor explained all I'd have to do would be confirm my name etc and he'd do the rest. Even though I knew the pressure was off, going into that court room was still terrifying. Standing there in front of those people, I was just trembling. My solicior stood after I'd confirmed that, yes I am the person you think I am, and asked for an adjournment. The prosecutor also stood and said he agreed that was the fairest and best plan of action and recommended 3weeks adjournment.
What this means now is that as long as the police agree and don't decide they really really want it to go to trial, I'll be summoned to the police station at some point and be issued a formal warning, or caution. It means I don't have to face going through another trial, and that one shit thing in my life will have gone away. If the police don't give me the caution in time (the 3 week adjournemt period) I'll have to go back to the court and they'll probably just adjourn it again til the police have got round to doing it.

Quite frankly, this is the best result we could have hoped for. Just 24 hours ago I was sitting here sobbing uncontrollably about the loss of my little furry friend (about which I still get teary if I think about him for too long) and worrying about facing court the next day, battling through the trial proceedings, and feeling guilty and worried about whether I'd be able to care for Yoshi enough when I'm still hurting this much for Rocky.
Now, this has all changed.

The other court case (the one where I am the legal 'victim') will be proceeding painfully slowly over the next few months, which is evidently something I will have to face in the future, but I'm feeling stronger.

Regarding Yoshi, things are looking up there too. After last nights breakdown of grief, my dad said that if I wanted we could go back to the pet shop we got Yoshi from and buy one of his brothers. (Personally I think thats partially because dad liked the black ones of the litter and seeing as it was his birthday he wanted one lol) My dad is so lovely to me and he really does want to do anything he can to help me and make me happy.
Admittedly I was a little dubious about it, as I was worried I wouldn't be able to bond with one let alone two little baby rabbits who need me, but after a nice lunch we went by the pet store, and I fell in love with Spud. We thought it was definately wiser to get one of the black ones seeing as the other ones are practically identical to Yoshi, we'd never be able to tell the difference! And Spud fits the bill :)

We brought him home and I could already tell he is completely different to Yoshi - whereas Yoshi was jumping around in the carry box all the way home, Spud just sat there, heart going a mile a minute bless him, but still nonetheless. When we got home I got him out of the box and had a cuddle to calm him down, then took him into the conservatory and put him down to run around. We figured it was wiser to re-introduce them in a space bigger than the hutch (which unfortunately is too small for the two of them at the moment, as it was only meant for one little 'un) as even though the man at the pet shop said that somehow they'd recognize each other and get along fine, we wanted to be able to break them up if needed. Mum got a towel to throw over one or both of them if they got a bit fighty, and I went and got Yoshi. To start with they barely even noticed each other, but then Yoshi hopped over to Spud and started nudging him. We nervously watched them but they just started nuzzling and nipping each other in a friendly way, looking ridiculously adorable.
Watching them both explore the conservatory, which was 100% new for Spud but Yoshi didn't seem to find it any less interesting, I started to realize I could easily love them. Although neither of them will take Rocky's place, in a sense they can. They'll both have completely different personalities to Rocky, as well as (as I can already see) different to each other. (Spud seems much calmer and docile, whereas I can tell Yoshi's gonna be a right trouble maker). But you know what? Thats ok, and I'm excited to get to know these little guys. At the end of the day, they need me, and I need them too.

So all in all, touch wood, things seem to be looking up. The way I'm seeing today's good news as, is that it was Rocky's parting shot. On the way up the great hutch in the sky, he had a word with someone. Something like, "Oy, lay off her. Give her a break, she loved me." or something. I've got to see it like that really. Makes things better somehow.

The next step is to bond with these little fellas, and get them bigger hutch. (And to somehow get Yoshi to stop eating Spud's food when he's got his own, and to let Spud drink! Cheeky sod.)

I want things to get better. I want to feel better, be better. I need to be fixed. I've been so broken for so long, and I'm realising now that I need to help fix myself. I have to fight, no matter how hard it is, because I know I'm worth fighting for. I deserve to live, though some days I have my doubts. You guys are part of my support network, of my healing, my therapy...thank you.



Now here's a picture of the little guys :) Unfortunately, neither of them wanted to stay still at the same time for a photo, so Yoshi' (the white one on the right) is a bit blurred. The black one is Spud :) But as with Rocky, you can expect lots more photos in future :) You'll get to know these babies with me I'm sure.









Monday, 8 June 2009

Miss you baby.

This will be a long one.


Love you and miss you little man.


Today was supposed to be a good day.



Mum and dad had said I could buy a new bunny and I was very excited. When I got up however, I went to say good morning to Rocky and the seed of worry was planted. When my first rabbit, Trio, got ill, the first major sign (other than a general slight change of disposition and mood) was when I went to stroke him and he was just sat still and wobbled when I touched him. And when I went to say hello to Rocky, he was similarly odd. I picked him up a little and saw his back half was caked in poo and wee. Immediately I was a little worried but was also excited to get out and pick up Yoshi.
So I went to the pet store, bought little baba Yoshi and came home. My friend had come with me and was there as we settled Yoshi in his new home, made sure he had plenty of food and drink, and left him to settle in. After that I thought it only fair to let Rocky out, a) so he didnt feel neglected at all, b) cos he hadnt had a run around since yesterday and c) I guessed he might be a little unsettled by Yoshi's presence to begin with. It was when I picked him up out of the hutch I started to worry again. Holding him against me I could feel his hindquarters were damp and he was very smelly. He's been more and more nibbly recently and a little more agitated when I hold him for too long, but I put it down to his hormones kicking up even more and the heat, but today he was different.
Now usually, he doesnt like my right shoulder. Sounds odd, but when I'm holding him he'd only ever be interested in my left shoulder, so interested in fact that the holes in my jumper say 'Rocky was here'. Today however, after a very short amount of time holding him and trying to placate him, he clambered over to my right shoulder and jumped off and out of my arms. I was sat down so he didn't have far to go but it was enough to worry me. Seconds later, he jumped up higher than he has to to get into his hutch and scrabbled at the fence. This worried me even more, as he never jumps higher than absolutely nescessary and when he did jump and scrabble there was definate contact with the fence. After that he ran to his usual hiding place behind the shed.
Now I knew something was up. Normally he'll hide there for 3mins max, then slink out again and start eating mothers prized flowers, but this time he did not reappear. Nor did the sound of the pole we use to hit the ground to get him off the flower beds and into his hutch stir him. He wasn't moving.
In the end, dad had to come home, empty the shed and move it out of the way for us to get to him. We put him in the box we had only just used half an hour ago to bring Yoshi home in, and went to the vets.
We're quite fortunate in that there is a vet surgery literally 3 minutes from my house across the road, so getting there wasn't a problem.
When we got there we explained what was wrong and the nurse said the vet was in surgery but could see us in half an hour, so instead of putting him through two more journeys we waited. Unfortunately my dad had to get back to work for an unavoidable meeting but my friend was willing to wait with me.
Shortly the vet was available and we went in. Rocky wasn't very receptive and was unusually calm when the vet handled him. There was that much poop all over his back half that it took nearly 10 minutes for the vet to clean him up enough to examine him properly. When he did, Rocky didn't flinch as much as usual when he checked his mouth, eyes and ears, nor when he checked his bum and stuck a thermometer up there. His temperature barely registered. The vet explained that he more than likely had diarrhea, which in rabbits is usually fatal. He said he thought Rocky could be too far gone but that there were a few things I could do.
Keep him warm and try and get him eating. If he was going to get better it would be in the next few hours, if not there were two options. Either bring him back to put him down or just wait. He wasn't in any pain so he would just slip away.
I took him home, wrapped him in towels and cradled him for hours. I tried, as recommended by the vet, mashing up some grass with warm water and getting him to take it via a syringe. The first go he had a bit of, but then started making pained noises so I stopped, not wanting to cause him more discomfort. I tried twice more but each time he wanted less and less to do with it. Wrapped in towels, I cradled him and shared my body heat with him to try and make him better. After a while my friend had to go, and I suddenly got even more upset. I rang my dad who said he would get home asap, and my brother said the same. Mum couldn't get away from work. A couple of times he twitched, but it was more likely involuntary muscle action. He'd look around occasionally but nothing more. At about 4pm, roughly 2 1/2 hrs after visiting the vets, he wasn't really improving much at all. He was barely opening his eyes and his breathing was short, fast, noisy and quite frankly, worrying. It suddenly hit me that he wasn't likely to turn the corner and that I could lose him, so I started crying rather a lot. I rang my dad asking him to get home sooner, and he arrived shortly. We took him outside and put him down on the grass, and opened up the towels to see what he'd do. He didn't move, just raised his head slightly. We wrapped him back up and then I put him in the box and sat and strokes him, talking to him. Dad cleared up the grass and water, and other various bits and bobs while I contemplated what to do next. Deep down I knew he wasn't realistically likely to make it and that it would be kinder to let him go, but I just kept saying, "he could get better, he could get better" and hoping against hope. I put it off as long as possible, and then after my brother arrived and comforted me, I agreed to at least take him to the vet and see what he thought. Still wrapped up and in the box, we made our way to the vets. This time Rocky seemed more alert and aware, but that could have been me hoping for it and so seeing what I wanted. He at least looked around more and while he was on the table reached up and gave me a nuzzle, which made me start crying. The vet took his temperature again, and it was still barely registering. I could practically feel my heart breaking as I clung to my little baby and stroked him and kissed him, barely hearing dad and the vet talking. I knew what they were saying and I knew it was right. If I took him home and he didn't get better, it would be traumatic. Or if I did and he took a turn for the worse in the middle of the night, finding a vet would be nigh on impossible. It was kinder to let him go. But I so badly didn't want to say goodbye. I couldn't do it. I couldn't say the words. Goodbye. No. I held him so close and cried on him, telling him over and over "I love you." I don't know how long I was doing this for, but I remember hearing my dad tell my brother they needed to get me out of there. I didn't want to leave him. I was holding onto that tiny chance. He was my little man who I'd fallen in love with all over again in recent months, my little man who, when I all got too much, would let me come outside and cuddle him, and who would amuse me with his little mischievous ways when he ran around. I knew all his hiding places, his favourite flowers of my mums that I'd let him eat if he'd been really cute and mum wasn't around. I knew where he rubbed his scent glands and where his favourite patches of grass were. We bonded again, after I neglected him for so long, as an impatient bratty child and teen. He started to love me and I couldn't stop loving him. His greying fur on the back of his neck was even softer than his gorgeous soft coat, and stroking him there, between his ears and on his jaw would calm him. I was learning him and loving him, and he me.
Over these last few months, I've had so much shit to contend with. It's just been one thing after another, but he was always there. He couldn't give me advice, obviously, but he excelled at being so soft and cuddly, and even managing to SMELL cute, that being with him cheered me up. I could cry and he'd look up at me with those dark eyes, then nuzzle me breifly, more of a nudge as if to say "Oy stop crying you, I love you. Now why have you stopped stroking me?" when I went to wipe my eyes. I could just sit there and watch him for hours, exploring places he already knew but still found fascinating. I could rely on him to make me smile.
Sure we had our moments, like when he had to have his claws trimmed so for a day or two he was a bit grumpy, or when he'd nibble my jumper just a little too much or too hard, and I wasn't in the mood for it.
But overall, these last few months he's been my gorgeous little man, my baby, my shoulder to cry on and my rabbity island of calm.
And now he's gone.
I left the vets and cried. I wanted to go back in. "I want him back." I knew it wouldn't be fair on him but I was already missing him so hard. I went home and just sat and cried.
Then I realised, I had Yoshi to look after now. He needed me.
I went and showered then got something to eat, then went to introduce my brother to the new addition. I think I was more nervous picking him up that he was about being picked up. He struggled on first attempt and I let go. I was scared. He's so little and I didn't want to hurt him. I got myself in better position, took a breath, then picked him up. He kicked a little, but was calmish. He's so small and soft and delicate, but already inquisitive. He was sniffing my face and tickling me with his whiskers, and his head was bobbing all around, looking and listening. I didn't hold him for long, as I wanted to let him get settled and take it slow, so I put him back in. My brother left and I sat and tried to watch tv and take my mind off Rocky. My lovely twitter friends were, of course, so kind and caring, and I had a momentary nap too.
Then my other friend came round, who I called in tears when I was cradling Rocky, and she hugged me and then met Yoshi. I didn't get him out again but had a little stroke. Then mum came home and met him too.
So now I'm sitting in my bedroom chair, missing my little rabbit, and knowing another one needs me.
People keep telling me not to blame myself but I can't help it. I keep thinking that I didn't do something right or that I missed something or that I didn't do enough to try and help him get better. I guess part of this grief is also regret that I didn't get to know him better any sooner, that I left it so late to love him this much. But I'm also so grateful for the time I did have, as contrived as that sounds.
I hated seeing him so down and uncomfortable, hated the scared look in his eyes whenever he could manage to open then, and the scared noises. I know it was fairer to let the vet put him down, but I just miss him so much already. It hurts.
It hurts so much more than when Trio had to be put down because although I was younger then which was hard, I hadn't been as low as I have recently. In some ways Trio was 'just' a pet (although I'll always miss him and love him and remember his funny half-lop DNA that meant one ear would flop and the other stand up and lots more) but Rocky was my friend and my crutch by the end. He needed me, but not as much as I needed him I'm sure!
And now there's Yoshi. A helpless little baby bunny that needs me.
As I said on twitter, although it might sound cruel, there's a part of me that can't feel so attatched to Yoshi yet because I'm missing Rocky so much. It's not Yoshi's fault of course, it's just how things go in my life : one good thing is followed by shit. I just don't understand why Rocky had to suffer for whatever I'm clearly being punished for by some higher being.
I know it'll take time, but I'm hoping that soon enough I will love Yoshi, at least nearly as much as Rocky, if not more. I already get a big cooey when I'm with him, it's just when I'm not all I can think about is this huge Rocky shaped hole.
His hutch is empty and it won't be filled.


You'll always be my baby, Rocky.