Sometimes depression sneaks up on you, tackles you, and drags you to the corner to rock and sob for hours. Thats my excuse anyways. Sometimes all my mistakes and memories of trauma just start crowding in my head until really its just a lot faster to wish for merciful death.
One thing I don’t regret in the slightest is keeping my little dog Katherine when I rehomed her brother Capone. A lot of days she’s my only reason for getting out of bed or taking another breath. I wish I could afford fancy treats or like… treats or maybe one of those cute dog beds or sweaters or some shit.
Im sorry my little Kitkat that im miserable to be around and its so hot and our life is mostly a steaming pile of shit, kinda like the one you left on the doorstep. Thanks so much for that. You deserve filet mignon or some other confusingly spelled meat dish and a fan at least but you’re stuck with beanie weenies and getting sprayed down with hot water in the corner with me. Dont worry about the doorstep though, it’s cool, we ain’t even gotten a door yet and I stink bad enough to cover it.