Monday, January 18, 2016


I decided to start my old blog back up. I've tried to do this a few times in the past but got too busy (or too lazy) to actually follow through.

I'm starting back up because I don't know how to handle this all-consuming grief I feel inside over losing Joe Boxer. I'm hoping that writing things out somewhere other than Facebook will help me somehow and that my entries can go back to being witty and fun like they used to be. I deleted all my previous entries, though. I just want to start fresh. They still exist but they aren't visible to anyone. Maybe I'll repost them someday. Maybe not. 

Back to Joe. I don't have adequate words to describe the pain I am feeling inside. Tomorrow will be three weeks since I made the choice to end his pain and while on the outside I might seem OK, I'm not. I am absolutely 100% NOT OK. I cry at random times- it just comes without warning. Sometimes the realization that he's gone hits me out of nowhere and my body physically jolts like someone just pushed me incredibly hard. I don't know how to deal with this. Joe was my best friend, my constant companion. The only being on this planet that has never hurt me...except when he had to leave. 

I don't feel alive anymore. I don't want this to be a slap in the face to those in my life because I still love everyone, especially Tom and Maggie, very much. But when Joe left something inside of me died. It feels like any sparkle I had is gone and I don't know how to get it back. I don't even know if it WILL come back. I feel like I am existing day to day and when things get particularly hard I reach for alcohol (and no, this is not a cry for help and NO, I do not have a drinking problem so please do NOT come at me with any suggestion that I do because you'll be abruptly shut down) because it's the only way to numb this terrible, terrible pain in my heart. I want to touch him and pet him. I want to hear him running through the house because right now, even with Maggie around, the house has an eerie, devastating silence that I can't fill no matter how loudly I play my music or what volume the TV is on. 

I sleep with the blanket he covered up with during the last few weeks of his life. I don't do it every night- I save it for nights that are the hardest, like last night. Out of nowhere, sitting on the couch with Tom I started to cry. I don't know why. I just thought of Joe and admitted out loud that I missed him and the tears came. I tucked myself in with his blanket by my face and wished for a dream about him so that I could see him again...and a dream came alright, but a bad one. I woke up around 2am ready to cry and had a hard time getting back to sleep. 

I don't understand how an otherwise healthy dog can get sick and go downhill so fast. Some swelling the night before Thanksgiving and gone by December 29th. How the fuck is that fair? Why did cancer take over my beloved boy and make him hurt and cry? How can something like that happen to such a beautiful, selfless animal? I fucking HATE cancer. I hate it all. I hate reading posts about people and animals who have cancer. It isn't fair. But that's life, right? Life is rarely fair. 

Bringing home his urn last Friday was one of the worst days of my life, almost worse than when I had to let him go. I don't have words for the tightness in my chest and the pain in my heart. I don't have words for the anger, sadness, frustration, loneliness and shock that was attacking my system all at once. I thought I knew pain from stupid breakups and other things that have happened to me in my life but I didn't have a clue till then. A month ago that day I had my boy and I still had some hope. Then, January 15th, I was holding an urn with his ashes. The urn itself is beautiful and I'm grateful that I have it because I plan to be buried with it. But that didn't stop the tears and pain and I honestly don't think anything will. I don't think I'll ever feel 100% happy again. I might get close, but never fully there. 

How do I keep going without him? I genuinely want to know. I feel like my joy has been stolen and I won't ever get it back. I miss him so fucking much. I would do anything to get him back. I have to stop writing since I'm on lunch at work and no one likes a crying front desk person. 

Mama loves you so much, Joe Joe.