Too much grief.

That’s the phrase that’s been going through my head a lot the last couple of weeks. It really started though about six months ago when I was laid off from my job unexpectedly. That really messed me up on just about every level. It didn’t help that I’ve been in a crisis of confidence and identity and creativity for a couple of years. In a typhoon of chaos and uncertainty, my day job was the one area I could look to for stability.

I’d recently dedicated myself to going all in on being the best at my career that I can be rather than slacking off and wandering through life professionally. So to get laid off after the third merger since I’d joined the company even though my division had been told we were exempt from layoffs because we were such a vital area of the business. Well that turned out to be bullshit.

So already grieving the loss of my last tether to stability, the last week brought the unexpected deaths of my favorite aunt and my healthy cat. I don’t want to be overly dramatic about my suffering, but to me it feels epic and it feels like the universe has it out for me.

On Thursday my mom sent me a text that my aunt Kathe had gone into the hospital with a bad leg infection and then quickly the doctors determined there was nothing they could do and she was gone the next day. I was so angry at the world and my life that I withdrew into myself and just kind of numbed out. The next day the younger and healthier cat in our family started having seizures out of the blue and they wouldn’t stop and then a few hours later we were at the vet putting him to sleep.

We got Mort and Maurice together as rescues after our last cat died eight years ago and Maurice has had a variety of health problems the entire time. Last April he started failing pretty badly and we took him to the vet prepared for the end. He wasn’t ready to go though and rebounded pretty well, but we knew we were on bonus time with him.

Our biggest worry was how Mort would handle it when Maurice died because the two of them are almost always attached to each other. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that we’d have to worry about him dying and that Maurice would outlive him.

Mort was 14 and had a good life right up until he passed away, but we still hoped to have another few years with him. They were six when we got them, so we were already at a disadvantage on how much time we were going to get with them, so this seemed even more unfair.

I was cold and out of it through all of this until we got to the vet and they sedated him and brought him back for all of us to be with him and have our last moments with him. Of course I always worry that we made the wrong choice and that we should have tried everything to get him back, but I didn’t want him to suffer even if it meant I got less time with him.

Once they brought him in to us though, I lost it. I felt like two years of collective grief unleashed all at once and I couldn’t stop crying. I haven’t slept through the night since then and it’s so sad in the house watching Maurice wander around looking for his brother. On top of all of this, we now have to worry about going through all of this grief again sooner than we would want because Maurice is on borrowed time. Everything just sucks.

I finally started a new job this week, which is good because being broke and desperate on top of all of this was extra terrible, but it’s also an on-site job which I haven’t had to deal with in more than five years. So on top of all of this, I’m grieving the loss of my work from home life and dealing with the stress and awkwardness of a new job and a new office where I don’t know anybody.

It’s too much grief.

I woke up early on Sunday morning because I couldn’t sleep and took a long walk. Somewhere around halfway through the walk I felt something change though. I could see myself spiraling and knew I could very easily slip into a very bad cycle of depression and sadness and failure. I didn’t want that.

So I told myself I wasn’t going to let this break me. I was going to fight back and not let the demons win. But for crying out loud, I could really use a win soon. Until then, I’ll get the ashes of my cat on Thursday then go to my aunt’s funeral on Friday and somehow find my way forward.