So… for a few years now, I’ve been quietly dreading the death of the family dog. She’s nearly 16 now, very old for a retriever. She’s actually my parents’ dog, but they got her while I was still living with them, and I raised her for the first few months, and spent a lot of time caring for her/playing with her over the years. For a while I was her substitute “parent” – she used to fall asleep on me when she was a puppy. As sad as it is to say, it’s probably the closest I’ll get to an actual parental/caring role in my life.
So as I said, dreading her inevitable end. I’ve spent way more time with her than any other family pets, and I suppose she plays a much bigger role in the family – she always wants to be the centre of attention whenever we all get together. Watching her gradually slow down, year after year, when she was once so full of energy… it makes me feel sad, and old. I was newly depressed back when we first got her, and still had some delusional hopes. I was still young. I had the energy to keep up with her tearing around the place. Now I’m rapidly falling into middle age, tired, drained of all hope. And she’s slowly walking towards the end of the road.
I think what I’m really wanting is those past moments back. What I’m dreading is the permanent severing of that connection, between who I was then and who I am now. Even though I was miserable back then. At least I wasn’t so used to being miserable that I couldn’t imagine anything different.
People (and animals) from your childhood gradually pass away, and they take with them the links to who you used to be. Grandparents and great aunts, who first knew you as a mischievous child, and can only see you through that innocent frame. They have memories of who you were, and your relationship with them can kind of keep that past self alive for a while. But they pass, and those links disappear, and you end up stuck, marooned in the sad present. Those memories of who you used to be start to seem disconnected. They didn’t really happen to the person you are right now. They happened to someone else with the same name.
I want to go back. And there is no going back. There is only forward. And I know that. But I fear the loss of yet another living breathing link to who I used to be. More than I fear the absence of a beloved companion on the road. At least that’s the only way I can understand feeling so fearful over a loss that hasn’t even happened yet.
5 comments
“Now I’m rapidly falling into middle age, tired, drained of all hope.”
“Even though I was miserable back then. At least I wasn’t so used to being miserable that I couldn’t imagine anything different.”
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>Same. I am a few years older than you from what it looks like, 5-7 years maybe, so I’m at where you will be.
>I feel old, tired and drained of all hope as well.
>The reason it wasn’t as bad when things got bad before was we thought, at least I thought, that I would eventually get out of it, that it was temporary. No way did I think it was last so fucking long. No way did I think I would be stuck for SO long. That is why it wasn’t so bad in the beginning and why it is so bad now, bc when you realize you have very little chance, then you enter total and complete misery, as opposed to misery but still having at least *some* hope -_-
“I am a few years older than you from what it looks like, 5-7 years maybe, so I’m at where you will be.”
I guess the feeling just gets worse and worse over time, unless/until we find some way to make a change. As has been said here before, no matter how bad things are, they can always get worse. Which doesn’t feel intuitive. When you feel hopeless, the idea of a more intense hopelessness doesn’t really register as a concern.
You’re right, when I was young and newly depressed a subconscious part of me just assumed I would somehow get out of it. That it was just a phase. But after all these years, multiple moves, some small progress with life circumstances, it feels more entrenched than ever.
It sounds similar to something I’ve been trying to deal with, I have a 14 year old German Shepherd Husky, she’s currently 60 pounds and that’s pretty old for a dog her size. The thing is that I’ve been thinking about her oncoming death for at least six years. I even adopted a younger dog, to take some of the sting out….. still unclear if that’s going to work.
But, time goes on. I have pictures of her as a puppy, back when I worked at the hospital, and I do miss those days. But I’m not sure I’d go back. That was before my granddad died too, and even so, still not sure I’d go back. I guess if there was some course of action I could take to keep her young, my granddad alive and that hospital in operation.
but these are forces beyond my control, probably beyond anyone’s control. I liken it to Erebor in the Hobbit; of course all that wealth is what brought the dragon. Wealth to me is so much more about people, the ones you can’t replace. But if you have beloved people (or dogs), you’re immediately set up for a huge loss.
It’s coming, because as my dad observed once; all relationships end, either one of you leaves or one of you dies.
I guess my takeaway might only work in my situation; realizing loss is unavoidable has made the time I have with those I care for better, because I know it’ll run out. Today I let my old dog sit at my feet for about four hours, it was lovely.
Now my younger pup and I are headed off to cuddle for warmth on a very cold night.
Thank you, for this, for reminding me how lucky I am to have these animals, and how finite that luck in fact is.
I was going to write something similar for the other post about aging; I find myself weirdly enjoying my slow decay. Youth fades, and becoming an old man is far from something I fear, it’s something I look forward to and enjoy day by day. Young people have a lot expected of them, but you get to a certain age and people are satisfied just with you not being dead.
If it is true that the secret to happiness is low expectations, then getting old should be the happiest thing possible. There’s only one expectation to come, death, and it’s so immediate and about to happen that there’s no hurry.
It’s true that the richer you are in terms of loved ones, the more you inevitably have to lose. I’ve tried to channel the recognition of her finitude into greater appreciation of the time she has left. I think I may just lack the necessary disposition. I made a point of getting some cute pictures of her, and I try to make a fuss of her on the regular occasions when I look after her when my parents go on a trip. But most of the time I just end up getting bogged down in the stressful day-to-day realities, rather than actually enjoying my time with her. And I always worry that she’ll enter the “final stretch” while I’m looking after her. I’m glad if you’re inspired to greater appreciation though.
Possibly it’s easier to enjoy aging if you somewhat feel that you’ve lived a worthwhile youth, or if you have at least something to show for it. For me, the increase in physical pain alone is enough to make aging suck. First my digestive system, then my back, then my teeth, all are slowly going to shit. And I know it’s only going downhill from here.
“If it is true that the secret to happiness is low expectations, then getting old should be the happiest thing possible.”
>You think that bc you haven’t experienced actual slow physical decay yet- and not talking minor aches and pains but serious health issues. Once that occurs, it’s not easy to enjoy “old age” when you have to constantly deal with health issues 24-7. But hey, you might get lucky and not have serious health problems for a long while…but most ppl aren’t so lucky. ESP given how unhealthy Americans are (myself included)