I'm struggling. My roommate is being horrible and my manager gave me a warning about leaving my cats at home when I visit family or stay somewhere overnight, which I never do. I told my roommate how I was on suicide watch and she just didn't care. That is HARD to do. It is HARD to tell someone that and she's just brushed it off like it was nothing. I didn't want to stress anymore. I was supposed to go home but after the letter from the manager and my roommate telling me my cats aren't there to help me, I was just overwhelmed. I couldn't cope anymore.
Here's a background:
My cats help me SO much with my mental illnesses. Sephora with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Bucky with Major Depressive Disorder. They have such different personalities, it's crazy. Sephora helps me when I'm freaking out. When I'm panicking, she's there and she will stay with me. Bucky is the crazy cat who cheers me up. He is so weird and silly it makes me laugh. Earlier today I was crying my face off and Sephora just didn't want me to hold her like I needed, she got straight up angry with me. I knew I needed Bucky. He hates to be held but he let me and didn't leave me. He didn't even complain for a while. My cats help me in such different ways it's crazy. I love them both so much and they have absolutely saved my life.
When I first moved into Canyon View apartments in Cedar city I was planning on just having one of my cats with me because there was already a dog and there was a two pet limit. I knew I needed them but didn't know which one to have with me. I went to the hospital just as I was moving in. I couldn't handle the stress and was feeling insane and the panic attacks got so bad I needed them to stop so I got suicidal. While I was in the hospital I talked to the therapists and social workers about my things I did to cope. I mentioned in a one on one with a social worker (I think) about how my cats help me cope and how I was freaking out about not having them both. She was concerned about, firstly, the strain of being separated with even one of them; and second, the support and coping method that was being taken away. I was also worried that they wouldn't have each other to play with and keep company.
I was able to have a letter written that officially made them Emotional Support Animals and I started feeling hopeful again. I got out of the hospital with a new hope about things! I had them both with me for a little bit until I got, what was basically a rejection letter from the apartment manager Lynette. I was crushed and then I started panicking, all of the new hope vanished instantly. I didn't know what to do at first. I just knew I needed them. I contacted the Disability Law Center and they were able to give me some guidance. Firstly, they made sure that I only had one cat with me. Secondly, the sent a letter to the manager. The fight felt like it took forever and I was not doing well without Sephora. My former roommates boyfriend was also a jerk about it. He stayed the night every single night, had a key to the house, parked in our one shared parking space, and was there even when Taylor (the former roommate) was not. I had a really hard time after the fight was over. Eventually the manager decided just to let me have my cats, she first said I could have them both but she "couldn't renew my lease". She tried so many tricky ways to get me out.
So that was my legal battle for emotional support.
Seems kind of ridiculous doesn't it?
Now I'm not amazing with cleaning. I never have been, but I've been working SO hard on it. It's really tough to get yourself to clean when you can't even get yourself to eat. For a while after my boyfriend had broken up with me, my grandpa died of cancer right next to me, my parents, and my evil uncle had been harassing me, I had a hard time cleaning up after myself at all. I didn't eat, didn't shower, didn't brush my teeth, didn't really do anything. Eventually I decided to start school again, which was a terrible idea, I freaked out about going to class and it really just added on the stress and made me shut down more. My room got really dirty while all of this was happening. It was shameful of me but I couldn't get myself to do anything. I just didn't care. I left for comic con, which is a huge deal for me, if you have read this blog you should know. While I was gone there was an inspection and I got an eviction notice about cleaning the litter box. When I came back the house smelled so bad from the litter box. It probably did before but I didn't care enough to notice. I had forgotten to clean the litter box before I left. My room smelled awful and so did all the clothes in it. My roommates helped me clean my awful room and I did all of my laundry. I worked hard on getting rid of the smell. I started cleaning the litter box every day after that. I would still forget every once in a while but I did my best. I officially decided to drop from school which was really really hard. I started getting really depressed again. I started feeling worthless again. The only things that kept me going were my cats and the video game Elder Scrolls Online. I had met people on there that I regularly played with and it was great. I consider them my friends. I was desperate for help when I went up north for witch fest. I did have some fun here and there but most of the night I was faking smiles and pretending like I was okay. I knew I was getting dangerously lonely and sad, being with my family did help a little for a bit. I haven't had anxiety medicine that worked since about beginning or mid September. That was also a huge problem with my emotional well-being.
I have two different roommates from when I moved in. Taylor's dog is gone. My roommates knew when they were moving in that I had two cats. I hoped they would like my cats. I thought they did for a while and now one of them wants to force me to get rid of one. This happened just after she sent me the second notice I mentioned at the beginning of this post. She wants me to get ride of one so she can "at least have the chance to have a pet to care for." I basically said no. She knew there were no pets when she moved it. I wasn't going to get rid of my emotional support especially not when I was on suicide watch. I told her I was on suicide arch but she still continued to tell me how my cats aren't there to help me and a bunch of other crap she knew nothing about. It hurt me. It was the breaking point. I didn't even feel safe going home! That right there is what made me feel the most hopeless. I was crying and shaking and I couldn't deal with anything or even do anything. I was hurt, lost, sad, hopeless, and I just didn't know what to do to make it stop. That's when I wrote the last post then put a knife to my chest.
One of the things that saved my life today was a cat named Gary. He lives where I'm currently staying and he wanted to be let inside. I was just about to do it when he came to the kitchen window. I let him in and that shift in mood from hopeless to cat saved me. I don't know for sure whether or. It I would have gone through with it but I do know that Gary made a difference.