Two years ago, I went through the worst depression to date. Fall of junior year was an all time low. I had low self esteem, no social life, my parents simply hated me at the time. My brother got into hard drugs, my grades were terrible. I was just so, so, so unhappy.
Anyway, on a manic day of my bipolar mother's schedule, she surprised me with a kitten. I was ecstatic. He was gorgeous, I was in love. Honestly, he was the only "person" in my life who I felt cared about me at the time. I was so happy. Obviously a kitten didn't cure my depression, and I continued seeing a psychiatrist. But, I was so happy for having him.
At the young age of 2 months, and just weeks after I'd gotten him, he got a terrible infection. I held him for hours, but he wouldn't eat, sleep, drink, or do anything. He was limp. It was like he was dead, but still breathing. It was terrible. I held him in my arms the entire day and night, I wouldn't let him go. Eventually, I broke down so bad my parents came in my room and took him away from me so I could sleep. I ended up being up all night talking to a suicide hotline. I cried for hours and hours, until my parents gave me a sleeping pill. I slept for 2 days straight, only waking up to eat and feeling really disoriented. Sometime in those 2 days, my dad had taken Frankie to the vet and he was put down.
The death of a kitten who I had for 2 weeks and who died more than 2 and a half years ago still haunts me. I wake up shaking and short of breath thinking about him. I've spent countless nights up crying, not only from grief but from guilt. The vet eventually said Frankie had eaten something outside, a mushroom or something, that made him sick. We were trying to have him be an indoor cat, but my brother took him out just for 10 minutes on a nice day.
If we hadn't taken him, he'd still be alive. I know it's not definite, but the grief kills me. He was so beautiful, he was my baby. He saved me on so many occasions, he brightened my days. I loved him. I know this sounds ridiculous but at a time of such depression, he was everything to me. I am still stricken with grief. A close friend of my brothers died 4 years ago, and it seems I've "gotten over" his death faster than the death of my cat. It's 1 am where I live and I can't sleep because of this. I'm not sure what to do. I am just so, so sorry.