A Vent Book

9/11/17

When traumatizing events occur, doesn't it feel like everything is going in slow motion? Even if it goes by in seconds, it seems like it goes on x100 slower.

That is what happened to me today.

I was at the dining room table in my home that I moved into about 5 weeks ago. I was eating dinner with my brother and parents. My brother went out and through the courtyard to get a soda from the pool house fridge, because that's where we keep them. On his way back, our newest pet, Dude, followed behind him.

My brother, unaware of my kitten, Autumn, by the door, opened it; it allowed Dude, who attacks cats, to run after Autumn. All of us ran after him, and that was when everything started going in slow motion. There was screaming and running, most of it was a blur by my tears. When everything went back to normal, I saw my dad and brother holding down Dude and Autumn dashing out of the room we were in, which was my parents bedroom.

I yelped these exact words, "if that dog hurt my baby, I want him out of this house by the time I get home from school tomorrow." Sure, I was being a bit over-dramatic. However, there past 5 weeks have been hard on me.

The day I moved into my new home, I had to put down Snowflake, a cat that has been with me since I was born. She had cancer and it was time for her to go. Not even a week after that, I had to go into a new school full of complete strangers. I was so lost and lonely for most of the week until I started making a few friends here and there. I'm an extreme introvert, and making friends face-to-face is something I find slightly difficult. I was so scared and panicked when I sat in class and walked down the halls that I just wanted to run home in tears and hide in my room.

Then the week after the first week of school, Hurricane Harvey made landfall near my home. The week was flooded with flash flood warnings and tornado watches. Majority of the week, we were trapped in our home because the streets outside my neighborhood were too flooded to safely drive. This was 2 weeks ago, only 2.

Everything is building up on me and after Dude going after Autumn, the bottle that held all my anxiety and worry completely shattered. Sure, I occassionally vent to someone who is very close to me, but sometimes I'm too scared to tell them certain problems because I don't want them to worry about me. And I know that isn't alright and I know that should change. They care a lot about me and always tell me to come to them when I need help, but my anxiety and panic plagues my mind and fills my head with doubt.

I know that I use the word "anxiety" a lot in this story. However, I don't think I have the anxiety disorder, for I have not been tested for it. Even if I do have anxiety, I don't know what kind it would be. Feel free to say your opinion to me privately or in the comments. Either one, I couldn't care less.

Anyways, back into the main topic. Once Dude was locked in his kennel, we started searching for Autumn. It took us about 10 minutes till we found her under my brother's bed. One of her hind legs are damp and she does want like it when I touch it. My parents are trying to figure out what to do, taking my statement to heart. They will either get rid of Dude or put him into training. My dad suggested that we get rid of Bandit, my only other cat, and Autumn but I immediately shot that down. I may update this when the decision has been made.

That's the end of this little story. There isn't much else to say so.... yeah... bye.