Peppi

We bought Peppi, my dog, from a rescue center when I was 1 years old. I was petrified of her when I was little (apparently I always made my parents pick me up and carry me around the house whenever the puppy came close to me). Naturally, I grew to love her with my whole heart. I grew up wither her, and like most households, we considered her as a family member. We loved and adored her.

When I began Sixth Form Peppi turned 16 years old; very old for a dog. With age she found it hard to walk, hold her bladder and food, and began to have seizures. I distinctly remember two specific incidences. I found her the first time she had a seizure and panicked. I came downstairs and found her in the corridor half sitting; she was trying to stand but her back-legs wouldn't straighten and she was shaking with a scared, sad look in her eyes. I immediately cried; cried tears and cried out for my sister upstairs. It was heartbreaking to see. We didn't know what was happening and as she saw us she struggled to get up to greet us with her tail wagging. But it was physically impossible for her. We tried to sooth her and make her sit and stay still. After some time she was OK again. The vets didn't find anything wrong with her and she seemed fine. But the seizures slowly became more regular, and her abilities to walk, hold her bladder and food became weaker and weaker.

The second incident is a painful memory. After a seizure she became blind and disorientated. She was on the mat in the kitchen; where she slept. She had an empty look in her eyes; she didn't seem to recognise us or her surroundings. She always slept in the kitchen and never went onto the slated floor near the kitchen cupboards and oven. Partly because we trained her to, and partly because she slipped on the floor. However, after her seizure she seemed to have forgotten this. She hit the cupboard. But she kept repeatedly tried to walk forward. It was like watching a broken toy. She just kept making a move forward, hitting her head on the cupboard, move a little back and tried again, and again, and again, and again ... It was agonising to watch. We tried to move her but she didn't acknowledge us; we had to pick her up and move her into the corridor where we stayed with her; holding and stopping her from walking. Thankfully, her condition was temporary. She got her sight back and acted like normal again. The only problem with this is that she didn't seem to have noticed what had happened. I know she's only a dog and I know we can't know what animals are thinking. But perception and intuition can go a long way to empathise with someone. And 93% of communication is body language right? It wasn't hard to tell that she was deteriorating, nor that she had no recognition of her last seizure. It was like we had suddenly appeared and she hadn't seen us for hours and wanted to play with us. This incident highlighted a clear issue we needed to discuss and resolve. We were all heartbroken after this incident and decided that if she didn't get better or if she had another seizure then it would only be humane to put her down; we all hoped it would never come down to that.

Readers can probably tell where this story is leading. Peppi was fine for a while but unfortunately became worse again. The seizures and vomiting began again and became regular like before. So we stuck by our decision and rang for somebody to come and put her down.

We chose for the vet to come to our house as Peppi hated the vets, and we didn't want her to be scared when she passed away. Regrettably, the vets actually came an hour earlier than expected. We took deep breaths and allowed the procedure to go ahead. Animals sense things and she knew something was wrong. We calmed her and I sat with her; soothing and distracting her while the vets shaved some fur from her leg for the injection. I kept her still and blocked out all emotion so she couldn't sense anything bad from me. I tried to be strong for her. If I'm required to be strong for somebody, I'm usually quite capable. But one thing I wasn't expecting, nor could I stop myself from reacting to, was my mother. She's a very emotional and affectionate person who's never learnt to detach herself from her emotions. Tears ran down her face, she sobbed loudly and choked on her own tears. Even if I didn't look at her, I could hear her crying out all of the emotions we were all feeling loud and clear. She was red in the face and had to bury her face into my father's back to quieten her sobs and hide away from Pepppi. My brother was standing in the doorway with silent tears slowly seeping from his eyes. I couldn't stop the tears from leaking out of the corners of my eyes either, but I continued to be as strong as I could and did everything to make Peppi go peacefully.

It was the first loss I ever really had. I lost my grandmother before but I was very young and remember little about it or her. Peppi was someone I was affectionately attached to. I know some would see her to be but a pet and animal, but others will understand that losing a pet, especially one you grew up with, can feel the same as losing a family member; which it essentially was for me. I love her dearly and I'll always remember her.

Early teens: Part 2. Taking Things for Granted, Guilty!

We say and tell each other a lot of things that are practical but unrealistic, like 'always be prepared' and 'don't take things for granted'. Everybody's taken things for granted; it's natural. I know I've taken many things for granted in my life and it was mostly in my teen years, and I'm sure that I'll take many more things for granted. It's hard to truly appreciate everything around us all of the time. Things will go unnoticed and some things we just simply expect. To an extent, I think it's more important to recognise when you've taken something for granted. It's better to realise your mistake because it shows you probably don't take it for granted anymore. This post highlights how I no longer take myself and many people in my life for granted. In a later post I'll explain in more detail and more specifically about the types of people I cherish dearly. But for now, I will write about my years in Sixth Form and what I learnt in those years. I learnt a lot and started to grow stronger from this point onwards  It was hard for me and I tend to refer to this period in my life as "my break down". It's quite dramatic but that's how I felt at the time; like giving up and giving in. This time and the years that followed were definitely an emotional roller coaster for me.

Although we are all guilty of talking about others, I want to clarify that this blog is not an excuse for me to 'bitch' about others. So I won't be writing about some people or events.  I don't hold grudges and I feel it's unfair to name and shame them for things they've done to me. It's a personal matter; therefore, I think it's something that should only be between me and them. I don't think others' views should be affected by my personal experiences with them.  So I will only briefly refer to these people.

One person that I'll always remember is the first 'friend' that back-stabbed me. I don't mean talking behind my back, I mean betraying my trust and lying to my face. This was mind-blowing for me. The idea of out-rightly lying to somebody's face is incomprehensible to me. I can understand white-lies for the sake of not hurting someone, but to lie with the intention of keeping the truth from someone, especially knowing the truth would later hurt someone, is just unbelievable in my eyes. I don't like lying. I don't see the point in it. Of course I've told white lies for things like getting out of trouble. And I've not said the whole truth or my opinion aloud to avoid hurting or getting people into trouble. But I wouldn't ever lie if someone pulls me to the side and asks me for an honest answer. If you ask for an honest answer, that is what you should get. This is of course, my personal opinion. 

So a few bad things happened in this time; being academically challenged, a bad friendship and personal family matters which I'll write about in a separate post. But now I want to cover the positive things that happened. Sixth Form wasn't solely a terrible time for me. It was hard and frustrating but I've come out stronger and I can look back on it with no hard feelings.

A massive positive outcome was becoming much more appreciative of my family; mostly my parents. I learnt the importance of family. I don't believe being related automatically means you're close or that they'll be there for you. That's why I'm eternally grateful for my family being there and supporting me. Especially during Sixth Form and University; they were very hard times for me.

I remember crying regularly in my bedroom. I hate people seeing me cry. I hate feeling weak. Suddenly I couldn't get good marks anymore even though I was trying so much harder than before. I didn't know why this was happening. I would work hard and try again and again, but I didn't see any improvements. So I felt really upset and stuck. I was worried and confused.I got myself into a vicious cycle where I would work hard but still get the same low marks and feel down because of it. I got anxious and wanted to solve the problem. But the more I thought about it, all I could think was the only problem there could be was me. I wasn't capable. I wasn't improving. I couldn't get my head around the new curriculum. There must have been something wrong with me! 

These thoughts were stuck in my head, and just like all of my actions, these thoughts were just going round and round. I told myself it was OK and I'll do better, I'll try harder and everything will work out. But if I saw any progression, it was minute. So I kept thinking these negative thoughts. What was wrong with me? Why am I suddenly so incompetent? Have I always been like this? Am I dumb? Why isn't anything going right? 

We all have days or periods like this; where nothing seems to be going right. This lasted for 2 years for me. But I don't look back on it with dread or unhappy feelings. It's a lesson learnt for me. It's an experience that made me stronger. It's a time that I can talk and write about without any regret. I had a 'breakdown'; it was a turning point in my life but it was a bearable time. What made it that little bit more bearable? My family and friends.

My family played a massive and important role in getting me through this time. They noticed I was different. They knew something was wrong. Being the youngest can suck, but back then it was my advantage. My 3 older siblings gave me advice, helped me study and supported me whenever I needed it. And my parents consoled me, helped me and supported me in every way they could. They gave me space, helped me with my work, made sure I ate (I tend to not feel hungry or eat when I'm stressed. When I force myself I tend to feel very sick), and spoke to me to help me relief stress and organise my thoughts. They really were awesome. This was the first time I ever got properly stressed or down, so having them all their and supporting me the way they did was the best possible situation for me to have my first 'breakdown'. I wasn't alone; they were ready to keep picking me back up.

Having a family of 6 is noisy and chaotic but I really wouldn't have it any other way. I love having so many people around me. Especially as we all play different parts in the family. It's like they're all specialised in some way. When I need to rant my mother always listens. When I'm bored my sister will give me her attention. When I need help with electronics or buying something, my oldest brother gives me a helping hand. When I need anything at all, my father will do what he can. And when nobody else can do anything, my other brother helps me pick up the pieces. He always surprises me. When I feel lost and numb, he's just there suddenly; and although he's a joker, he says and does exactly what I need at the time and makes me smile again.

I really am eternally grateful to them and thankful that I have them.

And whilst they were amazing, I've also learnt that I've had great friends. I probably didn't appreciate them enough at the time, but I definitely do now. 

Whilst I did have one bad friend. I had plenty of kind people around me. And it's only now that I can fully appreciate them. They were good friends back then, and now they're my best, and some of my oldest friends now.

I phase a lot of people out of my life because I don't see the point in being 'friends' with people you don't like. Life is short so why waste time pretending to be friends with people you don't like? I don't think you should be horrible to them. If you see them passing by then be polite and civil, but don't go out of your way to spend time with them and pretend your the best of friends. Spend that time on something beneficial or worthwhile. Spend that time with someone you actually care about.

Because of this, I don't make an effort with people I don't like or click with. Like I said, I phase people out a lot. But it's because of this that I appreciate and love the friends that I had at this time and still to this day. I don't think we can ask for much more than to have people that makes an effort, that don't lie, back-stab or judge us. If we have that, then we're set, and very lucky. I don't think people have to have the same personality, background or interests. Listening, trying and being open minded is enough. For me this is enough at least.

I was overwhelmed and wasn't very strong. I'm still probably not that strong but my friends and family definitely made a difference, and still do. And I appreciate that. This is why I try to do everything within my capability to do what I can for them. If you don't do this for others, how can you expect them to do the same for you? Give as good as you get. If people are kind, honest and make an effort, then do the same in return. If people don't make an effort, then don't make an effort with them. I think it's that simple.