This journal seems to serve it's purpose best when I'm feeling under the weather. I don't have anything too happy to write about this time around.


My hairless rat Stewie had been sick for a long time. He had tumors on his face and one in his throat that were growing rapidly. We couldn't afford the high cost of getting them removed (thousands of dollars even for such a small animal). Despite the tumors he stayed in good spirits for a long time. Eating well, drinking well, playing, and being sweet as ever when I'd hold him. I had originally thought the tumor on his face was an abscess and attempted to lance it but his skin was too tough and it seemed to merely be making things worse for him. After a few days the cut I'd caused just split and out popped two separate tumors. I felt bad but at the same time, I think it prolonged his life some. The tumors began growing outward as opposed to inward toward his eye socket and skull. He lived with his tumors for about five months. He was such a trooper and although every time I looked at him and held him I just wanted to cry, I couldn't stand the thought of letting him go yet. Well, Tuesday morning Karl and I both decided it was time to put him down. His health was finally taking noticeable turns for the worse and he was dropping weight. I told myself over and over this was the best thing to do. It wasn't until it was done and we were driving home with Stewie's lifeless body wrapped in a towel in a shoe box that it suddenly hit me what I'd just done. I immediately felt like shit. Shit for not being able to afford tumor removal in the first place, shit for all the time he had to have been suffering, and even more shit for deciding his life needed to end. He's been buried in the back yard and we planted some flowers on his grave. It all just feels wrong still. I can't shake the guilt. I really loved that rat.


Naturally, afterward Karl had to go back to work and I was left to grieve alone. I desperately needed consoling and no one gave a shit. Two friends I tried to talk to blew me off and I ended up talking to Ellari for a while. One of the first things she said to me was "I hate to break it to you but this probably isn't the last time you'll have to make a decision like this." Now at the time I just said "I know" and we continued on. In hindsight though, how fucking rude of her was it to say that? It angers me to think about it now. Of course that's a true statement but it's about as cold as telling someone whose mother just died "Well, everyone's mother dies. You just have to deal with it." It's just not the right choice of words for that stage of the grieving process. That's the time for verbal back pattings and understanding. Just another reminder why I don't actively go looking to converse with her. I think I forgot for a moment that that woman has a love/hate feeling toward me. I don't doubt she loves me, but I think she likes it when I hurt or suffer over something. I cop this vibe of gratification from her. It's sick. So there I was crying my eyes out in desperate need of a shoulder to lean on and the only one available was jagged and cold. I'm getting really tired of always being the "go-to" one when certain friends of mine are having trouble with boyfriends or girlfriends or just their problems in general and yet they are nowhere in sight when I need them. I've said it before and I'll probably say it again but I feel truly fed up with trying to have friends. Honestly what the hell is the point anymore? 


I recently took on the biggest load of art projects I've ever attempted. Trying desperately to win the Theme contest for Weebly and at the same time trying to get two paintings done for a friend's grad/b-day gift. I poured countless hours into my contest submissions and didn't even make it into the finalists list. I don't even have the stomach to tell Karl I completely lost because I was so sure I'd at least make it to the top ten and so was he. I never feel competitive about anything but I took a chance on this. I tried to be supportive of my competition and optimistic about my own chances. I feel stupid and rotten now for even bothering. All that artwork is no better than garbage now. Between that and worrying sick over Stewie, I fell behind on the gift paintings. All I wanted to do was play video games and try and find some peace. The paintings are almost done but I feel like I failed because I set a goal and a deadline and couldn't meet either one. 


I'm not depressed, not the same way I have been in the past. I just feel like shit. Grieving over Stewie, stressed about the paintings, reminded that I have no chance of mending the dysfunctional relationship I have with my older sister, and that some of my friends are pretty much selfish pieces of shit who apparently don't see me as anything more than a door mat. There's a few people I'm going to need a serious break from for a while. It's a shame that when the inevitable happens and their dog or grandma dies and they come crying to me I won't have the balls to say FUCK YOU!!! And instead I'll comfort them and kiss their ass because that's just how I am.


Where in the fuck has everyone's spine gone?


Rest in peace, Stewie. This world is a shitty place anyway.