Life Lately: 2 Months Since Nala
9 September 2023
"Guilt is your mind trying to understand the pain; the pain is just you missing them."
It's true what they say – that time heals all wounds. Well, kind of. It's been two months since we saw Nala take her last breath. I'd be lying if I said that last image of her doesn't still haunt me. I suppose as time has gone by, it doesn't hurt any less losing her; it just hurts less frequently. It’s amazing how in the moment you feel like the pain is never going to end but only 2 months later the dark looming cloud has dissipated slowly and things don’t look so ominous. I had come to realize that this was the first time in my life experiencing the death of a loved one. I wasn't too sure how to navigate it.
The first week afterward was probably the hardest. Instead of distracting myself with life, I decided to face the pain head-on. We talked about her A LOT! We watched videos and looked at pictures. It helped! In fact, according to a recent podcast that I listened to by Mel Robbins (linked here), studies were done among people who experienced trauma (and yes, seeing your puppy, whom you loved very much, die is a traumatic experience), and it showed that those who addressed the trauma immediately after it happened by talking about it with others who could relate and processing it helped them recover much faster in the long term. So I'm thankful we leaned into the pain and into the good memories of her.
Having said that, one of the hardest things about loss is the guilt you feel, and this is perhaps why I felt the need to write this "journal entry." The guilt of: Did I do enough? Did I spend enough time with her? Was I too strict with her? Could I have been kinder? BUT, I have to constantly remind myself that the guilt and these questions that pop up are just my brain's way of trying to understand the pain that I feel from losing her, and really, the pain is just that I miss her. I miss her smell, her bark, her cuddles, her presence, her intelligence, and everything I got to experience having her as my pet.
Anyway, on another note, "Life goes on, and so must you." Keeping busy, focusing on what's important, spending time with family and good friends – these are all things conducive to moving on and staying sane. And that's what we did, what we are still doing, and what we will continue to do.
I really want to write about what we went through with her so that maybe it can help someone else out there. "How to help a dog survive distemper" and "The signs of a dog with muscular dystrophy" – the latter is ultimately what we lost her to. But I just don't think I am there yet, and I don't know if I will be, because I know that sitting down to write that will involve a whole box of tissues. It's one thing to remember the good times, but it's a whole different thing to have to write about the pain she had to endure in those last few months of her life. For now, I can only put into words my pain. There's something therapeutic about that...
I miss her so much every single day!
