Dog day afternoon

I wake up at 5am this morning,
It's 70 degrees outside but feels lower to me, I'm very cold today.

My ex came over late last night, he has to take my daughter to school today, I have to attend to the business of spaying my cat.
I groggily open the door for him and he looks pretty awake himself, I head back to bed.
My daughter fell asleep in her own room last night and I didn't have the heart to wake her.
My husband brings over the remainder of his whiskey to drink, he plans on staying up late online and drinking, this reminds me of when I lived with him, this was his routine.
He peeks his head in my dark room and asks where the baby is, I tell him he will have to bunk with me just for tonight. I thought I saw him crack a smile, but I could be wrong, I was still nodding off from much needed sleep.

In the am and I'm anxious about driving, I feel sleepy still.
I also wake up incredibly sad today.
I've been skipping meds again, I suspect it's the Depression trying to creep back in.
Sometimes I feel like just letting the thing have me.
It's so hard to fight sometimes, I wonder what's the point.

I grab an Ensure to drink along the way, my cat is loaded in the pet carrier, she is scared and pees on herself.
My other cat stays sound asleep in bed next to my ex.

I arrive at 5:30 am to the Animal Shelter.
There is a long line of cars parked in the darkness.
I was told to be here early, only 25 numbers are given, then they will see no one else today.
I park in the cold and wish I dressed in more layers than I already am.
Around six am the cars start moving, it's time to head inside, at the check in point at the front gate everyone is given a number, I'm lucky 13.
Now comes the long wait inside the Shelters lobby.
In the lobby are cages that contain adult Cats.
They are all starving and meowing. All the cats are.
My sadness doesn't help matters and I quietly shed a tear or two.
There is a woman next to me who decides to make small talk with me to pass the time.
She doesn't have a pet carrier like the rest of us, her cat is in a cardboard box with holes punched in for air.
She wants a pet carrier but doesn't know where to get one. She owns none because the cat in her possession is a feral cat.
She managed to snag him last night for today's surgery.
I feel bad for her seeing as she is an older woman.
I tell her that if she wished after the surgery is done and we are to pick up the cats, we can switch. I'll give her my carrier and she can give me her box.
I can always get another one for cheap, the one I own now is from a Goodwill and it only set me back 12 dollars.
Her eyes light up at my kindness and she agrees.
After the convo has died down some mostly because I am freezing, so much so I'm actually shaking. Outside is no better at a chilly 69 degrees now.
I try not to think about the inevitable possibility for these cats that are up for Adoption.
Instead I look around at everyone else and tell myself look at all these pet owners who love their furry babies so much they wake up early and wait for hours just so they can have a better outcome.
More people come as the morning progresses, Dog owners now to vaccinate their pets.
The change of mindset helps me some.
Sometimes looking at the positive of things rather than the bleak negatives do help me focus and appreciate this and any moment I find myself in.

Around 8am now and the check in begins, numbers are called and cats are registered for the surgeries.
15 dollars and signatures later my cat is hauled off to the vet.
I'm to pick her up at 3pm.

It's 9am now and I head back home more alert and less cold thanks to the sun and the hot that accumulated in my little beetle.
I call my ex when I arrive home and ask him if he can get my daughter from school, I won't have time to.
He'll try he says, he has to work early today.

I start to binge.
I made the mistake of talking to someone as I was binging. Out of character for me but I really missed this person and wanted to talk to them.
Mistake two came in the form of me actually admitting to binging.
I was made to feel like shit because I couldn't or refused to keep what I was eating down.
I should've just lied and said nothing, pretended like everything was honky dory and I don't suffer from an Eating Disorder.
Nobody understands me, I feel like a failure and it's not easy for me to admit that but I am.
I don't know why anyone bothers with me, I will always have an Ed, I will always have bad days.
After the purge I'm dizzy and lay down.
My ex wakes me to tell me that he will pull my kid outta school early, he can't wait till later to get her.
She's dropped off and I'm dressed and ready to head out the door.
My daughter is nervous and hopes the kitty is okay.
We have fifteen minutes to kill at the shelter so I take her to see the dogs, aka The Incentive for bringing her grades up and doing better in school.

My daughter is a ball of energy, every other Dog is "the one" she wants.
She wants them all to be honest.
I go over the deal again, reminding her what she would have to do to earn a puppy and what a huge responsibility it would be, caring for an animal is a full time job.
In one of the kennels, I see a black cocker spaniel named Rambo. He is adorable.
If I had my way, I'd take him home today.

Time is up and we get the cat.
The vet says he has to talk to me, there's something wrong.
My heart drops and I think about all those forms I just signed, death can happen in any surgery. What if she didn't make it.
The vet comes out with paperwork, my cat made the surgery but has something called Cystitis.
Cystitis is defined as inflammation of the bladder. My cat has all the tell tale signs and now even has blood in her urine. I'm told to take her to an Animal Clinic for treatment.
My cat is handed over to me in her crate. I see the little old woman who befriended me seated with her cardboard box at a nearby bench, she was waiting for me, we make the switch and she can't thank me enough for her gift.
In my car I start to cry, I can't afford a Vet let alone much these days.
I haven't started my training yet or work. I'm on a weekly budget that has to cover myself, a seven yr old and two pets.
I don't want my cat to die or suffer.
I call my husband and he simply says "If she dies, she dies."
If it were only so simple, they don't just die do they, there must be suffering first, more bloody urine, more strain on her bladder, infections, painful movements and fatigue. He doesn't get it and why should he.
This news makes me sad like nothing else, what will I do without my kitty who cuddles with me every night. Petting her alone soothes me from the worst state I'm in thanks to the Ed and all the behaviors I do.
My cat doesn't judge me or scold me, abandon me or yell or hit me. It doesn't write me off or stand me up. It's loyal and affectionate and has more manners than most people I know.
In any case there's nothing I can do, for now anyways.
The drive home is blurry thanks to the tears I can't stop now.
I'm driving by a district with warehouses that import/export home goods anywhere, outside there are things for sale including one blue Pet Carrier.
I pull over and ask the man how much it is, he tells me 20$.
My eyes are puffy and my nose is stuffy, my daughter in the back seat with the cat.
I tell him I can't buy it, I had to put gas and now I'm ten dollars less richer.
He tells me he'll give me the crate for 8 dollars if I promise to stop crying.
"I don't like to see a beautiful woman cry."
I agree and so now I have another Pet Carrier, nicer than the previous one I had before.
My cat is carefully transferred and we're headed home.

At home the cat is struggling to walk and wanders from room to room, still heavily sedated. I open a can of cat food and set it out, I didn't expect her to eat, but she actually did, the food did her good.

The cat seems to be doing much better despite the bad health diagnosis, I on the other hand am not.
I ate a piece of fruit and chased that down with a swig of water and twenty five laxatives.
I'll do homework with my kid then sleep the day away.
I don't feel much like anything today.

I has Sad.