Laura Seabrook's Ramblings

I was feeling FUCKED IN THE HEAD yesterday. I saw my counsellor (and went from very agro to very sad). Anyway, she gave me a printout that said this (from "Finding Personal Meaning in a Crazy World"):

People are illogical, unreasonable and self-centred;
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish interior motives;
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies;
Be successful anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable;
Be Honest and Frank anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds;
Think big anyway.

People favour the underdogs but follow only top dogs;
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight;
Build anyway.

People really need help, but may attack you if you do help them;
Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have an you'll get kicked in the teeth;
Give the world your best anyway.

The issue for then, is that even if the above is true - how can I sustain myself in the mean time? The last three months have leached most of my energy and enthusiasm out of me. I have had great difficulty in creating comics (something that almost always makes me happy); have been able to do no research for my masters; and I really don't know what to do.

Tomorrow I'm going into uni to make contact. I'll pay my NUSA fees, visit all the stalls for O-week, have a free lunch; go to a Queer collective meeting and maybe see my supervisor. But deep down I feel down and out, and it feels like I'm going through the motions. I do not feel mentally healthy just now, and have had frightening dreams of violence against some people I know. there is much frustration in me, and I feel the absence of human contact and companionship.

Today I felt good about taking Bobby to see Ron at the aged care place, but I just lost all energy when I got home, and all I seemed to be able to do was watch TV (when I know that I could have done a comic page instead). I don't know why I've stopped.

I really do feel fucked in the head.

See, sometimes when I walk the dogs, I think about when I walked Pegasus on the same or a nearbye route. And sometimes when I travel on bus or train I think of some of the places where I wanted to walk Pegasus, like the hill between Boolaroo and Lakelands (what is it called?), or in the Mardi Gas parade. And thinkingv those things often acts as a trigger for feelings of loss and grief.

And I know that will be the case with Jenny as well. Saw an advert on TV for the next House season. Was going to record and watch that with her. Sigh.

It's been a month today that Pegasus died, and here I am contemplating about what's happened in that month.

Yesterday I was sitting out the back on the sofa with Bobby (Hallie had gone back inside) and put a CD on the player. Hadn't realised that it was the same one I'd played when burying him, and at the wake. It only took a few seconds before I burst into tears.

There's been barely a day I haven't cried over not having him in my life. But the mundane and relentless reality of the situation, regardless of any religious or spiritual beliefs, is that life (for me) goes on and nothing I can do can ever bring him back into this one (after is another possibility).

Every time I think I'm "over" that fact, something happens that sets me off.

My reactions

At first this was utterly intolerable. Peggy died (and I buried him) while Kevin and Michelle were away and that first weekend, until I had the dream of him going, and the wake, was the hardest ever. Things seemed OK but then when Kevin and Michelle were off again the following weekend, I got suicidal. It seemed that the only way out was to run away for a bit, and that;'s exactly what I did. Things have settled down since then, and I did, finally, speak to Kevin about my feelings of betrayal and being let down. And it really helped when I finally talked to my counsellor.

See, I had thought that I'd killed Pegasus by negligence. My old family dog, Snoopy, lived until he was 16. On two occasions when he accompanied my parents on expeditions into the bush (for firewood) he had a heart attack - but my mother gave him CPR and brought him back. After speaking to a lot of people, it seems that that's what Peggy had - only I couldn't (despite my 1st Aid training for humans) bring him back, and the guilt weighed heavy on me.

I suspect though, that no matter what I did, Pegasus's time was up. He'd been ill earlier in October on the 9th, and then recovered somewhat. But from then on I had the foreboding that Peggy was not long in this life. Several times  I was in the lounge (or out the back) on the sofa with Hallie and Bobby. Pegasus was there too but just out of site. It seemed an eerie vision of what was to come. I made sure in the three weeks after that I paid him even more attention, patted him, and so on. But facing his death has been one of the hardest things I've done - much harder than my father's death. My father died after a long convalescence in a nursing home 4000km away. Pegasus died almost in my arms. But I know now, that it was only a matter of time, and  Peggy will always be in my heart.

Afterwards

There are some odd coincidences and effects centred around Peggy's death.

I was giving Peggy pain killers for his arthritis and those tablets were all used up on the day of his death. My left knee had been giving me trouble for a few months - so bad that I got a walking stick - and since his death it's been troubling me less and less. See, Peggy's rear left leg was the one he injured and the one that gave him pain. Were my pains sympathetic in nature?

It's more likely that they are related to my lack of exercise and being overweight. I always loved walking Pegasus, but as he got older his energetic trot slowed down to a very leisurely pace, and a walk around the neighbourhood that used to take 30 minutes would take an hour or more - not good exercise, really. But since his death, I've walked Bobby every day but one, and walked Hallie and Bobby numerous times (often bush walks), so it's more likely that I'm getting more exercise now.

I'm coughing less now. Pegasus, for a short haired dog, shed hair all the time everywhere. While Peggy was alive there were short white hairs all over the house. And I always seemed to cough a lot. Since Peggy's death that hair has slowly been disappearing every time I vacuum, and I've been coughing less. Interestingly, when Hallie (another short haired dog) sleeps on my bed, I tend to wake up coughing.

Moving on

After the Poogle died, I made changes. His old dry food went to Hallie, and Bobby got his canned food. I cleared away the remains of the pills and other stuff I had in the garden shed for him. Since then it's been difficult to just sit under the trees on the sofa without him. But I am, and it makes a difference to my peace of mind. At first I felt guilty playing with and walking the other two dogs, because Peggy wasn't there. But just because they're not Pegasus is no reason to ignore them, and I play with them more and more lately.

I intend to paint Pegasus's portrait and hang it in my lounge. When Snoopy died in 1983, I was doing a painting course at TAFE and painted his portrait (see right). I need to do  this for Pegasus too. Snoopy's portrait hangs in my mother's bathroom, but Peggy's will go in my lounge I think.

And tomorrow I leave on my trip to Perth. Although I've felt the need to visit my family and friends since late last year (especially after my aunty died), Peggy's death has highlighted the need to reaffirm my roots.

I'm taking photos of him with me.

I've been keeping busy today. I've done the washing up, mowed the lawn, washed and hung clothes. And each chore reminded me of how much Peggy was part of my daily routine, and how much I miss him. Hallie (when she's not escaping) has been sniffing the pram I had Peggy's body in. I don't know what she or Booby think or feel, but they both watched me lower Peggy's body into the grave.

I haven't spoken to a single human being today. Yesterday I had a call from my mum, asking how I was, and that was it. I've been documenting things since his death, taking photos of the grave and whatnot. I took one today and had a shock when I downloaded it to the computer. There's a white towel lying on the sofa in the background, which is the in the same location that Pegasus used to lie, and resembles his outline vaguely. 

Yesterday I went through my old style photos and scanned in those with Pegasus in them. Not as many as I thought, but (including ones already on the computer) I collected at least 96 photos. It was good to see images of him over the years. I'm tempted to make a Youtube Video in tribute, but lack the software and experience to do so.

I still feel lost. Kevin and Michelle should be back tomorrow. When Hallie starts sleeping down Kevin's end again I think I will really notice things in the morning. I keep bursting into tears at random moments. I feel a strong need to have a ceremony with them (especially Kevin, who also loved Peggy) to mark his passing and to plant that bush over him. And I have a strong need to visit Jane in Casula, whose dog died in 2006 while I was visiting her, and whom I helped bury. She'll understand.

Sorry is this is getting repetitive -  you must be getting sick of reading about this. No matter what I do though, I keep circling around to my grief today. I feel totally at a loose end tonight. I might watch a video or TV. I've been on the computer so much these two days that I don't think it's a good idea to be on it tonight. I might get a little drunk. I've been drinking beer and Green Ginger Wine since Friday. maybe I'll finish the bottle tonight.

I woke up this morning to Hallie's barking.the first thing I though of was that I hadn't dreamt of Peggy like I'd hoped I would. And I can still hear Sue's very open accusation that I killed Pegasus by neglect by delaying taking him to the vet. Walked Bobby & Hallie around Barnsley just now. Very quick, only took 40 minutes whereas a shorter walk with Peggy would take an hour. And I was crying all the way (and had huge pains in my chest.

Did I kill him? Did I kill the one thing I loved above all else? I was going through some mail I'd overlooked late yesterday. I found a $100 check from my roll over fund, and a $100 money order from Thelma for my birthday. I had the money to take him to the vets! I feel very strange this morning, like I'm on the edge of something horrible.

But this is part of the disabilities I have, to magnify the fear I feel. That's why I've been suicidal so often in the past. In fact, Pegasus saved me from this at least once and I wrote (part of) a comic about it. I guess I miss him more than anything else in my life right now.

I just had a very odd experience in Second Life, where someone (whom I'd never met before) spoke to me for two hours. This is after a session where I just freaked out after hearing about that suicide earlier, and was definitely related to that.

Won't go into details but it was probably what I needed. But, I don't think I'll be logging in to SL as Elsie for a while, until I can think about what was said.

The last time I saw dad,
his body lay still and cold,
lying in state,
draped with the flag,
for service rendered.

We came in to say goodbye.
And as my family returned
to reception...
 
         ...I stayed to say:
 
  that I always loved you,
   and that I was sorry,
    I was never the son,
     that you wanted,
      but I had to be me
       whoever that is.
 
And I also said:
 
  that it was OK,
   I knew because
    you loved me anyway
     and that
      made all the difference.
 
I touched your hand
and fully expected you
to open your eyes,
and say something to me,
but you lay still,
asleep,
for the very last time.
 
And later that day
they buried your body
to await for my mother
some time from now.
 
Now I cry,
but not for you,
for you are finally
at peace
again.
 
Not for you,
but for mum,
for my brothers...
 
      ...and me.