Down On The Farm

Many people in the world make a choice to live their lives on a farm. Some people are born into it & the land goes back generations. Then there is the rare person who lands on two farms within a year, someone who never considered that life or saw themselves living such a rural life. I am that rare person. I type this to you while feeling very down on this farm.

The circumstances that landed me on the farm I am currently taking up space go back 30 years. At the age of 12 I began to truly rebel, as a direct result of the childhood I had endured up to that point. Sadly, as I inch ever closer to 42 by the day, I have still not managed to figure out how to leave the pain behind me & break the cycle of self-sabotage & ruin that I perfected decades ago.

It all started with a panic attack. Okay, that may not be entirely true. I had slipped up & made mistakes in the months preceding the morning I was frozen inside my car. Most, if not all, people make mistakes. Sadly, some of us have made so many that the people who are closest to them can’t take any more of the pain, the worry, the disappointment or the betrayal they feel. It’s understandable. There is no such thing as unconditional love when it comes to a screw up. Who could?

In a matter of four hours my life came crashing down around me on a Wednesday in April of this year. I experienced one of those panic attacks that keeps you from doing anything…calling someone for help, telling someone close to you that you were going through a trauma, answering the swarm of phone calls or texts messages that flooded in. All of these things, for reasons I still don’t understand, just made the anxiety worse. By the next day I was told I had nowhere to live. Day 2, they were keeping my dog for money owed, without even being given a choice. Also on that day, there was a phone call between my father & myself in which he told me he was done & that if I picked up my dog, it would be the worst thing in the world for her & that she deserved a better life than being stuck with me, especially since I am now homeless. I did call the police & made a report, so I couldn’t be accused of abandonment. They informed me that they would accompany me to the house where they would ask for the dog to be turned over, but then told me that there was a chance that they could refuse, causing me to have to file a court order to have her returned. Well, I don’t have the money to file a court order. My other choice is to file a report with the microchip company I am signed up with stating that she has been abducted. All I want is to have my dog returned to me, because she is the only thing I truly care about on this earth, with the exception of my 4 year old niece. I live for my dog. She is my baby, not my pet. She chose me, regardless of where or how we live. At the same time, I feel an incredible amount of guilt over the idea of tearing her away from the only life she’s known for the last 7 months, even if that life did include me until 6 weeks ago. I can’t even imagine the abandonment she must feel. Dogs do get separation anxiety, but her feelings were never taken into consideration. Damn, I really should have chosen not to respect their wishes that 2nd day to not go into their house without their being there & taken MY dog with ME. I have never been more shattered or more torn about anything in my life. Without her, I honestly don’t care about anything. I just don’t. Life means nothing. A future doesn’t matter. I have no ambition; even more than what has become normal for me. She is all that matters. Sure she’s probably loved & to a degree happy, but these people are kidding themselves if they think she isn’t hurting or that she doesn’t wish she was with me. Dogs know & feel FAR more than they are given credit for. She wants to be with the mommy she chose when she was 6 weeks old.

Now….well, now my life is empty. I have no job, no money, nowhere to go, no interest in caring if I’m going to be alone in this. I have even considered ending my life, but then I think of the people who were closest to me & have now chosen to take themselves out of my life. I truly believe that some of them would be pleased that I offed myself & some would just consider it another ploy on my part to make them feel bad. The funny thing to me about this entire situation is the fact that I have nothing negative or bad to say about a single one of these people. While the circumstances surrounding my return to Michigan are confusing to me & not necessarily in my best interest in the long term, they were very supportive of & good to me. They helped me in ways I didn’t deserve. I appreciate all they did for me. The only thing I have a problem with is when a person looks you in the face on multiple occasions & says that you ALWAYS have a home with them, up to the week before the events of that fateful day in April, only to turn in less than 24 hours & put you out without any notice whatsoever.

After weeks of soul searching, I have come to the conclusion that this is my fate, my payback for decades of bad behavior & disregard for the feelings of others. So, I’ll take the suffering. I will embrace my fate. Beyond that, I don’t know what will become of me & as I type this, I honestly don’t care. If Gypsy is not returned to her mother, what does it really matter?

So, that’s where I am today. I DO NOT want any of your sympathy. I DO NOT want help. I DO NOT want money. I just want to write. Do & think what you want of me, I honestly don’t give a shit anymore. I’ve been turned on, burned & betrayed by people who used to be friends, much the same way others feel I’ve done to them, during the unfolding of these events. All I want is for the pain to stop. I can only think of one little face that can heal the wounds….but I’m fairly certain the people that I would be fighting for her will tap their wealthy resources to bury me. Well….job well done, because you already did!

I love you more than life itself Gypsy Rae….& that is NOT bullshit!!!!

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