Not ok

After years of battling depresion, she finally got a dog. One turned into two, then three, then four. Plus her cat, they where six.
She thought she had it all figured out. It was good. They where good.
Nothing like coming home from a stressfull day to happy wagging tails, lots of kisses and hugs.
and she had qon the jack pot! Every dog is special, but she was different. She was smart, she traied her hardest to comunicate. She had a horrible pannic attac the day she fell. Even after crying out off fear and pain, she realized her dog was actually worried if she was ok.
her life was gonna get better. She made plans. Even battling anxiety and depression, she wanted to go for it. She promissed her they would leave.
it took one day to end it. She peed blood, so she rushed her to the vet. They started antibiotics and got blood work. Next day was looking better. Until the results. They where heartbreaking, her liver qas failing. Still, she seemed better. Not that night. She got limp. Next morning, missing work, she got her to the doctor. They started medication and by night she seemed to do better.
She visited on the next morning. She was not ok, but hangging on, so she had to trust the doctors.
less than 5 hours latter she got the call.
her workd crumbled.
her fears started again.
her girl, her pup, her little person, was gone.
and she realized what a blessing and an obsession, as her dad liked to point out, her dogs where. She felt herself falling. Straight. No stops. And her other dogs whwre the ones that saved her. She realized how easy it was to break the years of therapy and working on yourself where to undo.
she needed the pain. She wanted to leave.
she is bearly hangging on.
being sad for is not the same aa understanding.
you had to meet her to fully understand why it hurt soo much.
And she keeps bearly hangging on.