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“When
you feel someone else’s pain and joy as powerfully as if it were your own; then
you know you really love them.”
Ann
Brashares
*This
post features a Mammy’s Biscuits product: the ‘Birthday Girl’ bandana – you can
browse & purchase their other designs here*
I honestly don’t care how stereotypical this sounds; but I literally and genuinely cannot believe that I’m writing this blog post to celebrate my little maine coon/ragdoll mix kitten – Ruby – turning one year old! Now, if you’ve read, I’m NOT Disordered for even just a little while, you’ll likely know that I have pets and that I absolutely love them to pieces, and they help my mental health immensely. Because I’ve had quite a few (three who have passed and the three I have now) over the almost ten years since I’ve been in my own home, and I know I’ve written numerous blog posts at various stages of their lives, I wasn’t sure if there’d be an angle (also due to the fact I’ve actually already published a post in connection with Ruby’s Birthday, you can read it here) left to cover in writing this 1st Birthday post for Ruby! But, fortunately, the first one I thought of – a post about the reality of life with pets and mental health – hadn’t been done before so, I decided to tackle it…
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Making
the decision to get a pet can be a hugely important and 100% necessary process for
absolutely anyone and everyone – whether they have mental health difficulties
or not – who is considering adding a furry friend to their life. It’s so
essential that a great deal of thought and preparation goes into the decision
of getting a pet so as to provide a higher chance of stability in being capable
of continuing to take care of the pet rather than having it for a few weeks before
discovering you’re unable to take on all the relevant responsibilities that
come with a pet.
The
most likely consideration though, is typically around shift patterns and a
person’s employment in deciding whether you’re home often enough to spend ample
amount of time with the pet and to have plenty opportunity to engage in
necessary acts of maintenance e.g. taking a dog for walks or cleaning out a
rabbit hutch! However, when you have a mental illness, this act of thinking
through getting a pet can look a great deal different with there being two
large areas for consideration:
1.
Is
your decision to get the pet impulsive?
2.
Are
your safety levels stable enough to be responsible for an additional life?
These
were two massively important elements to getting Ruby because my mental health
was pretty much in the toilet at the time! But this actually became one of the
largest reasons to get her… My calico rescue cat, Emmy had been put to sleep
October 2022, and when her best friend; my mini-Lionhead bunny; Luna, started
behaving differently, the Vet recommended getting her a friend and explained
that it would be much easier to introduce her to another bunny rather than a
new cat. So, in January 2023, I got my second mini-Lionhead, Gracie! Whilst it
was so lovely to see them bond almost immediately and to see that Luna was so
much happier now that she had a new furry companion; almost every time I was
home, they two of them would be in another room together washing each other or
just cuddled up together. And so, I began to feel really lonely; and this only
worsened when I got home from being sectioned under the 1983 Mental Health Act
in February 2023 and found the two of them even more obsessed with each other!
Getting
another cat seemed like the instant fix to my loneliness, and I felt confident
that in doing this, my mental health would improve too. I knew, however, that
this conviction was likely something that only I would be sure of and out of
concern that others – particularly my loved ones – might question and doubt
whether this would happen, I didn’t tell anyone when I found Ruby and paid the
deposit for her. To be honest, I was so scared that telling someone and them
disagreeing that I should get her, would cause an argument and would leave me
feeling completely dismissed and unsupported.
Not
long before I was due to pick Ruby up though, the Crisis Team had asked me if I
had anything to look forward to and I was so excited at that point that I just
blurted out: “well, I’m getting a kitten in a few days!” Then they ended up
mentioning it to my Mum when they were on the phone with her, and I was
pleasantly surprised when she told me that she trusted me to be making the
right decision in getting Ruby and this was such a hugely helpful gesture that
really solidified my confidence in going to pick Ruby up.
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From
the very beginning of my mental health deteriorating – when I was first
sectioned after attempting suicide as a result of struggling with
hallucinations for around ten days – I discovered that your childhood is often
the first area of your life professionals look into for a reason for your mental
ill health. I appreciate that this is typically because what happens when
you’re young can be massively influential as you grow older, but initially it
was actually a question I wanted to really avoid so I definitely didn’t
appreciate being asked it. When I finally reported the abuse to my abuser’s
boss, I was named a manipulative liar and completely dismissed, which meant
that I had absolutely no drive to tell anyone else. So, it actually wasn’t
until my second psychiatric hospital admission, that I finally reported it and
from doing so, I found myself finally able to answer questions about my
childhood…
Over
the years, I’ve explained numerous times that my childhood was idyllic because
it was so full of love, support, laughter, happiness, and innocence. And I
think that last bit became the most important element because it meant that
when the abuse started, I was totally thrown off-guard. I mean, I hadn’t known
such terrible people existed; there wasn’t a whole lot in the media about rape
and abuse, and my sex education at school had pretty much just revolved around
putting a condom on a banana! So, I didn’t even know the name for what was
happening to me, the only reason I knew it was wrong was purely because it felt
so wrong. And so, this has made me think a lot over the years about my thoughts
on being so innocent in my childhood and I’ve come to the conclusion that there
needs to be a balance in it. That all children should have some sense of
innocence so that nothing really matters the way it inevitably will as they
grow older, but that children should also have some education in difficult
topics like abuse and mental health so that they have a healthy understanding
of what they should do if they’re in some sort of situation that is relevant to
these things.
So
– it might sound stupid and a bit ‘much…’ but my thoughts on innocence have
definitely shaped how I bring up my pets. I mean, of course I get that they’re
not exactly my children, but they certainly feel like it! I feel 100%
responsible for all three of them and I feel that they completely rely on me. I
also think there’s a lot more talk about the fact that pets and, actually, animals
in general, are so much cleverer than a lot of people give them credit for and
that they are very often totally in tune with the thoughts and feelings of
their humans. I have this one video of Ruby from not long after I first got her,
and I was sat on my bed crying and she came up and sat in front of me and just
stared into my eyes so lovingly and then every so often she kept putting a paw
onto my chest above my heart as though trying to heal it! Ironically, I was so
touched that she made me cry even more! And I was honestly so glad I thought to
try and film it when she first came up because I don’t know if anyone would
have believed me without the evidence! And I think one big reason for it to
have been a bit unbelievable, is the fact that I hadn’t had her too long, so it
was kind of… strange? But I think it’s a huge illustration of our immediate
bond and the very deep, heart-felt, connection that has surrounded us since the
moment I first held her.
Another
reason for me crying more when Ruby did this though, was that I felt a sense of
guilt and disappointment in myself that she was seeing and hearing me crying. I
had wanted for her to see nothing but good, wholesome, happy, and productive
things. I didn’t want her to develop any even awareness of upset, pain, and
negativity. I wanted to protect her from the reality of mental illness, and I
wanted to feel that it didn’t play any part in shaping her, her personality,
and her behaviours. When my first cat; Dolly, was just a kitten, due to a
massive miscommunication the Police caved my door in, and she was home alone.
After it, she became so aggressive and hostile towards any visitors that it got
to the point where my Support Workers couldn’t come into my home because she
had scratched one of them and drawn blood. My reassurance though, was that she
was absolutely lovely to me; but then she clawed my face, and I rang the Vets
in tears, and they said it was either trying a mild sedative medication daily
or put her to sleep because she couldn’t be rehoused when she was that
aggressive. Obviously, I opted for the medication and after almost a year on
it, she seemed calmer and more friendly, so we slowly weaned her off it… But I
was always so focused on the impact my mental health had on her, and I very
obviously don’t want that to ever happen again.
When
you think about it, it’s just like with humans – we can be shaped and changed
by things that happen in our life just as understandably as Dolly was. I mean,
in mental illness and particularly in making suicide attempts or self-harming,
regret is talked about a lot… Whilst there’s a massively long list of things
which I wish hadn’t happened, I do still recognise that I wouldn’t be where I
am – or who I am – today, if it weren’t for all of those things. I mean, if I’d
never been abused, I might not have developed mental health problems. And if I
hadn’t developed them, then I might not have had a reason to start blogging.
And if I hadn’t started, I’m NOT Disordered, would I have ever experienced the
incredible notion of feeling that I’ve found a purpose in my life? Would I have
had all the amazing opportunities and experiences that I’ve had as a direct
result of the popularity and success of my blogging career? Would I have had
the sense of achievement I’ve felt in every milestone of and in any sort of
monumental moment for I’m NOT Disordered?
So,
with Ruby, if I’ve tried my best to contain any difficult moments and coping
mechanisms in the bathroom with the door shut so that she can’t get in and see.
I’m quite a dramatic crier though, so I’m totally aware that she might be able
to hear that, but I’m really reassured by the thought that she’s never seen me actually
hurting myself. It makes me feel like less of a failure and a better Mum for
shielding her from that.
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Fortunately,
despite there being many instances for this to not happen, I haven’t been
sectioned since getting Ruby in May 2023, so I’ve not had a single lengthy
hospital admission. I have had my fair share of overnight ones though, and boy;
have they been difficult?! I’d like to think of myself as very much a
‘look-on-the-bright-side’ type of person, so the way I’ve tried to put a
positive spin on just how upset I get being away from Ruby when I’m having to
stay in hospital overnight for any length of considerable time, is that at
least she gives me the motivation to avoid it happening as much as I can. Wanting
to stay at home with her and be snuggled up to her at night and not in a
hospital bed hooked up to a drip, is the best drive and determination that
encourages my recovery and resolution to work harder at keeping myself safe.
It's
actually something I’ve spoken a lot about recently with the Crisis Team and my
Community Psychiatric Nurse (CPN) – the fact that when I used to live with my
Mum, I never really had any drive or care about being in hospital and how long
I was in for. I mean, for at least the first few months or so in the specialist
psychiatric hospital over 100 miles away from home, I didn’t get homesick at
all! Of course, I missed my Mum and seeing her; but having to basically live in
one bedroom (with an en-suite) all that distance away, didn’t really phase me
or upset me. I didn’t see getting to go home as inspiration or influence to be more
eager and easily willing to cooperate and engage with staff, the medication
they were prescribing, and the therapy they said I needed. Now, of course, some
of this lack of motivation or care might have been attributed to just how poor
my mental health was and how much I was struggling to stay safe, but I do feel
like part of it was just not feeling like my Mum’s was my ‘home.’ I mean, I was
spending so much time in hospitals that it almost felt like it was just a bit of
a stopgap sort of place to stay in between admissions!
Moving
into my own home though, on my discharge from hospital (December 1st,
2014), I started to feel settled and when I brought my first cat home a week
later, I finally got the sense that I was ‘at home’ too. It feels nice having a
sort of ‘base’ and somewhere that I can be which makes me feel grounded and
somewhat safe and peaceful. I say ‘somewhat safe’ because obviously I have hurt
myself in my home (in the bathroom as I talked about earlier), but when I’ve
done so; I’ve always still felt some sort of a sense of comfort that I haven’t
experienced when I’ve self-harmed or made a suicide attempt anywhere else. But
I don’t think it’s about the home as a place – it’s about who I share it with…
When I’m in hospital now, I massively miss having my pets around me. I miss
hearing their little paws running across the wooden floors. I miss hearing Ruby
meowing for attention. I miss seeing the bunnies washing each other. I miss
knowing that – if they aren’t snuggled into me – I can just go into another
room and spend time with a loved one. And that feels so much more powerful and
helpful than having professionals – even those who are trained and educated in
helping and supporting people with mental health problems – around me 24/7.
So,
for me, aside from missing them, the largest difficulty that comes when I think
about my pets after I have been hospitalised, has been the sense of failure and
feelings of disappointment that I’ve had to battle with whilst there. In all
honesty, I find it pretty easy to view anything I do as a failure or to feel
that as a result of something I’ve done, I’ve let down at least one person
(usually my Mum or one of my best-friends). And I think that almost natural
ability to turn things into being about disappointing someone, is equally as
difficult to cope with when I look on a situation as a perfect illustration of
letting my pets down. And I think that this is not only because my pets been so
much to me, but also because I feel that each of them has helped my mental
health in so many different ways, and I almost feel like I’m being ungrateful
or undeserving if, regardless of their love and the joy they bring me, I
self-harm.
The
fact that believing I’m a disappointment to people and to my pets is such a
common thought process or mindset, means that I’ve almost been forced to learn
a number of ways to cope with this in a safe and healthy way that doesn’t involve
me feeling I had to punish myself and self-harm in some way. The coping
strategy I’ve found to be the most beneficial for this difficulty, has been really
recognising and fully accepting that I can’t change the things I have done and
to use that acceptance as reason to move forward. To realise that all I can do
now is try my hardest for these things to not happen again so that my pets weren’t
left alone for me to go into hospital. And I think that so long as I know and
ensure that I’m doing all that I can to better myself and my mental health,
then I can live with myself and feel confident and reassured that I truly am
trying to be the best Mum I can be.
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I
think that one of the saddest elements about getting a pet is that you really
need to be in a stable and good financial situation. Now, to me, money
shouldn’t matter – of course, I know that it does and why it does! – all that
should matter is that your pet is loved. And I genuinely think it’s wrong that
you need to have money before you can do that! However, everything seems to be
about money these days and I’d say that I’ve actually genuinely struggled in
that respect of taking care of my pets…
I
think that my largest flaw in regard to the financial aspect of having a pet,
is my inability to budget money towards any Vet emergency costs, and it’s kind
of frustrating because this is certainly something I’ve learnt – numerous times
– would be really really really helpful! I mean, Dolly was in and out of the
Vets for about a week before she was finally put to sleep, so her final bill
came to over £1,000 and fortunately, the veterinary practice we were with at
the time let me do a payment plan to repay the amount gradually.
The
other pet death that taught me about money was when I lost my first bunny;
Pixie in 2021 because I also struggled to be able to afford to pay the cost to
have put to sleep and this new veterinary practice refused to euthanise her
until the payment had gone through! I remember thinking ‘you’re saying this is
the best thing for her, but you want money before you’ll do it?!’ It left me
massively torn between the outrage that they were in the wrong job if their
priority was money over putting a pet out of their misery, and the shame and
embarrassment that came with thinking I was totally inadequate and useless for
having to borrow money from others to pay the vet fee. It left me feeling
totally irresponsible and thinking I was an absolute failure for not being able
or properly prepared to care for my own pets.
I
think I’ve definitely improved since then though, because before getting Ruby I
really budgeted and ensured I had enough to purchase her, to buy all the bits
and pieces she needed, to cover the costs of her first injections at the Vets,
and to be able to afford the things she’d continue to need e.g. food and litter
etc. Unfortunately, there was still a potentially large cost I hadn’t thought
about… getting her spayed. I think that I just naively thought that since I’d
be keeping her as an indoor cat then there was no real need or justification to
put her through the surgery that would stop her getting pregnant when there was
really no chance of that happening anyway!
These
past few weeks, however, Ruby has started to come into season or ‘heat’ and
whilst I’m fully aware she isn’t in pain, her cries and seeing her so unsettled
and frustrated isn’t nice to see/head. Especially when I know there’s something
I can do to help her.
So,
I looked into the prices of getting her spayed at her usual vets and it was
around £90 – which I actually don’t think is too bad considering it’s a
surgical procedure – but then I found out they have a scheme in partnership
with Cats Protection (who I actually collaborated with on a series of posts in
Ruby’s first month) for those in receipt of state benefits. All you have to do
is take in proof of your benefit entitlement and complete a form/voucher and
then all you have to pay is £10!
Now, of course this is an amazing price reduction (so, if you’re thinking of getting your own cat spayed or neutered and are claiming benefits, it’s definitely worth making enquiries at your local veterinary practice to see if they offer the same or a similar scheme), but it did make me feel a bit awful that I hadn’t done it sooner. Again though, it was about acceptance and recognising that if I had known about it when I got Ruby then I’d have obviously done it a lot sooner.
I’ve
often voiced my opinion that my pets (past and present) have saved me – each in
their own special and incredible way. I mean, my first cat Dolly really helped
me settle into my home and adjust to life outside the psychiatric hospital I’d
been in for over two years. Then my first bunny, Pixie, helped me to
differentiate between the rabbit hallucinations I was experiencing and her very
real and soft fur that I could stroke. My second cat, Emmy, gave me the massive
boost I needed to safely cope with and come through the traumatic loss of
Dolly. One of the bunnies who I have now, Luna, really saved me and helped me
to bounce back when Pixie was put to sleep. Gracie, the youngest bunny I have
now, really worked her magic on my mental health and safety levels after the
loss of Emmy and I loved seeing Luna have someone to play with and to cuddle up
to.
Finally,
Ruby!
I
really don’t want this to sound like any sort of diss against my other pets –
I’d like to think I’ve made it pretty clear in this post just how much I love
them and how much they mean to me – but I’ve never experienced a sense of
connection with any of them that is in any way similar to that which I feel I have
with Ruby. She genuinely gives me ‘soulmate’ vibes! Like, it’s ridiculous the number
of times I’ve actually said out loud to her “where have you been all my life?!”
I mean, I honestly can’t believe I ever lived without her, and I definitely could
never imagine my life without her… And it is this, which is one of the largest consequences
I struggle with because of the feeling that my pets have saved me.
In
fairness, I think that it’s only natural that if you find something or someone
helpful – particularly when it’s helpful to a degree of it meaning ensuring your
actual, literal, safety is secure and your -mental wellbeing is healthy and
stable – you can very easily (and, like I said; understandably) find yourself feeling
somewhat reliant upon it/them. As though you almost subconsciously develop a
belief that you wouldn’t have made it this far and that the sole responsibility
and credit for that goes to this other thing or person. When really… Well, it’s
like in mental health help, support, and care services where the notion that is
really widely accepted is that professionals can throw all these tools and tips
at you on how to cope better and be safer, they can offer you a ton of
medication to brighten your mood or calm you down, and they can refer you to
all the therapies under the sun(!); but if you don’t engage or cooperate then
all those things will fall flat on their face and be rendered useless and completely
pointless! So, it’s important to recognise a balance in being grateful for
those who have provided help, support, and motivation, whilst also really acknowledging
your own effort, dedication, determination, and the passion that you’ve put in
to make everything successful and worthwhile.
Due
to putting – or at least feeling as though you’re putting – a huge reliance on someone/something
that you deem to be saving you can really leave you in a state of panic at the
thought of them becoming poorly or dying. However, even though this can often
mean a lot of anxiety, for me; that worry has ended up being a positive thing
with my pets. Firstly, because it has meant that if the slightest thing happens
then I’m in full-on protective Mama mode and getting them straight to the Vets.
Something I actually pride myself on with my pets is that I have developed a
real knack for having a feeling when something is seriously wrong, and I feel
that this is largely due to the importance of my relationship with each of
them. It’s like we have this connection that keeps me completely in-tune with
their health. I mean, when Pixie got poorly, I said from the beginning that I
had a bad feeling about it and sadly, I was right. And when Emmy developed a
sore on her face and the veterinary practice, she was with were trying to
dismiss it, I knew there was more to it and took her to be seen at another
practice where they immediately said she could have lost one of her eyes had it
got any worse. Now, whilst these are very obviously sad situations, I have felt
somewhat reassured that I’m a good Mum because of them and the fact they have
proven I have good instincts with my pets.
The
other benefit to my concern that I’ll lose one of my pets is that I feel it actually
really helps me to cherish and appreciate the time I have with them because I
recognise it won’t last forever.