This is my first post, I have a lot to get off my chest and just want to be able to vent to people who may care. I just wanna say there may be a trigger warning later on in reference suicide and self harm, mild swearing, as well as pet death. I just wanted to say that first in case anyone does not like to see that.
In January 2017 I had been living with my pregnant sister and her boyfriend. There was an unfortunate turn of events that left us homeless. Mine and my sister's paycheck would be just enough to get by living in a hotel. Her boyfriend, who we will call dumbass, didn't have a job because he dreams of being a boxer. Even when he has a pregnant girlfriend and twin daughters on the way. On January 8th my sister went into labor early at only 18 weeks along with twins. We were forced to go an hour away to a hospital that specializes in premature babies. (And boy do I have stuff to say about this, but that's for another post) Long story short, baby A's sack had popped and the hospital chose to wait four days before removing the babies via c-section. At first, it was fine. I got driven back to the hotel once my sister felt a little better, and after seeing both babies in their incubators. The nurses said at the time that everything was fine, just being monitored. I felt comfortable enough to leave.
The next day I get a call from my sister that one of the babies, baby A, who had been named Miley passed away.
That was the start of everything going downhill. I didn't care about being homeless if I wasn't alone. But now I was alone, a nice had passed away, and I couldn't afford living at the hotel alone. My sister and dumbass were staying in the area an hour away to tend to Miyah, baby B who is growing more each day.
Once my paid days at the hotel ended, I went to live on a friends couch for the next four weeks. Luckily she worked at the same place I did for the same hours, so I had a way to work.
(Note: In between this my mom came up because she didnt know we had been homeless and also stayed at my friends with me for a majority of that time because dumbass assaulted her like the asshole he is.) Anyway, I worked at a call center taking inbound calls. Well, they decided that we were going to switch from doing inbound, to making outbound calls to sell and telemarket. Now, most people found the program so much easier and better. Me? I have bad anxiety. Answering a phone wasn't a problem because I could assume what they wanted beforehand - and have access to their accounts to analyze a sale technique. Cold calling outbound? My anxiety would get so bad I'd hang up as soon as someone answered and would panic and cry. Work had finally had enough and my Team Lead pulled me aside and said I had two options that day. Quit, or get fired in a couple hours. I chose to quit. I was so drained and depressed as it was.
Fast forward to the beginning of February. My boyfriend and his family took me in, in a different state. They allowed me and my 17 year old cat to move there. I felt relieved, but my sister was clearly upset. She told me to do what would make me happy, but then texted my mom to "Talk sense into me" because I wanted a place to live and to find a new job. Because that makes me the bad guy.
Well, my mom agreed that I should go. As much as I love my sister and Miyah, I refused to live with dumbass again. I would have rather died, and if I didn't have my cat I probably would have killed myself then.
I've been in this new state a month and still can't find work. I've applied to many places fitting my work history, and even gave in and applied for min wage so I can at least work. Still nothing.
Last week I had to put my 17 year old cat, Dill, down. He had been having breathing problems for the past month. I assume from all the moving. Being an old cat moving around had to of been bad for him. Well, I took him to the vet and his bloodwork and poop came back perfect for an old cat. So I figured maybe give him a couple more weeks and see if he relaxes. Well, he began gagging and clearly struggling. So the next day I took him in for an emergency visit. From the x-ray the vet got she said his heart and lungs were badly inflamed and I'd have to take him to a bigger vet that has air machines to hook up to him to see if it helps. Well, I asked the chances and the cost.. it would have costed in the high thousands. My boyfriend was using his last 600$ for this visit as it was. The vet said she had one air machine that she could try and see if he improves.
After a while she came back and said he wasn't taking to it well, and the other vet would be the best bet. But he'd be there for nights without me. I finally asked the vet the actual chances for his age and condition. It didn't look good. I chose to have him put out of his suffering.
Honestly it was the most heartbreaking thing I've ever had to do. I cried as he came back into the room, and told him how much of a blessing he has been to my family, and how sorry I was his last year was full of moving so much. I held him and spoke words to him as the vet put the euthanasia in him. As the light faded from his eyes, he used the last of his ability to lick my hand. He was so good. He always knew that licking my face or hand was a kiss.
Dill held my deepest of secrets, wouldn't leave my lap if I ever spoke of self harm or suicide. If he was in the room while self-harming as a teen he'd try to get in the way so I have no choice to but to stop.
Now I'm literally just alone, and I can't even get a job to take my mind off of it.
I feel so suicidal, and I feel in my chest that I need to do it. I have a cat, grandparents, and a niece who'd keep me company and love me.
I love my parents, my boyfriend, and my sister, niece, brother, and nephew a lot... but the only one I ever see now is my boyfriend.
I'm pretty alone here too now without Dill. My boyfriend has a part time job hes starting soon, dance, cosmo school, friends, and whole family is within the state.
My head is in a dark place and I can't get it to come up this time. I'm scared.