I don’t even know if anyone will still read this, because it has been so long since I blogged, but for some reason, I have been getting the itch to write. I’m not sure why, because honestly, writing is the last thing I want to do lately, but for some reason I just feel the need to write on here, specifically.
Maybe, it’s because I’ve been missing Toby a lot lately. Not in a bad way, but in a way that is difficult to explain. Not surprisingly, Toby has been guiding a lot of my decisions lately – which I know sounds weird, because Toby died in September of 2017.
Let me try to explain.
The past year, well almost two years have been tough. I wasn’t happy, was suffering from extreme depression, I wasn’t sure where my life was going, felt my career was at a stand-still, felt very isolated, wasn’t sure what was going to happen with my house and I was drowning in a sea of self-doubt. I felt like I lost a lot of my friends, which to be fair, I realize that for a while I have been isolating myself, because I was ashamed of the things I was going through and what I was feeling. I was no fun to hang out with, because I was sad and depressed. Big shout-out, however, to the handful (literally, I could count on one hand) of those who did stick with me. I am more grateful thank you will ever know.
I still don’t have it all figured out. But, what I do know, and why I am writing this is because some of the decisions I’ve made have been a direct result of Toby.
Good, or bad, I have always been hyper focused my career, as well as trying to live life as much as I can. The number of times, I decided to go to some networking event, work-related happy hour, concert or hang out with friends instead of spending time with Toby haunts me every damn day. Not kidding. I think about all the times I was traveling for work, which I loved and still love to do, but it meant being away from him for long periods of time. And, then I would come home and be gone several evenings in a row, because I was out with friends or something. That time, I could have spent with Toby.
Losing Toby at such a young age makes me sick to my stomach. Then, I look at Maddux and think, “Oh my god, what if I have only four more years left with him?” There is so much I want to do with him. And, then, I start crying. I know that tomorrow is not a guarantee, and I know that I also can’t just stay home all day and all night with my dogs, but I would be lying if I said my dogs didn’t play into my life choices lately.
For example, 9 out of 10 times: I will pick staying home with my dogs over going out, I will pick a dog training class over a yoga class, I will socialize or have dinner at an outdoor restaurant that accepts dogs rather than one that doesn’t … you get the idea. Even if it’s just sitting on the couch snuggling them and letting them have the comfort of falling asleep next to me – I will usually choose them.
I know that there is never enough time, but I never want to have the guilt I have about Toby, about any other dog I ever own.
One thought on “The Itch to Write More”
Yes still following. My baby girl will be 9 in May. I dread the day when she passes on. We glamp monthly sometimes with friends.