The Thing That Makes You Cry

Sometimes the thing that pushes me over the edge is one of the smallest reasons about my crying.  It's the thing that finally pushed me over the edge, "my cat died."  As sad as that is, in the midst of everything else, it should be a lot less major.  It should not reduce me to a sniveling wreck.  But should has very little to do with reality.  Reality is that after I carry so many things, pray for peace, pray for hope, pray for the ability to somehow hold on, after I've lost so many in my life, after I've faced so many difficulties, it is the death of this little cat that brings me down.  Like it's just one more affront to my already troubled soul and though a small affront, the one that breaks through and causes me to weep freely.  Maybe it's because this is a thing that I can explain to people?  I mean, "my cat died" is a whole lot easier to talk about and explain than most of the other things happening in my life.  But after all of these years, this is like a knife soaked in rubbing alcohol...it not only cuts, but it stings. 
I am so exhausted.  Want to sleep.  But now I'm supposed to stay up all night?  I wanted to leave the cat there tonight.  Take her to a vet tomorrow and see what they could do.  Give her a shot at least.  I wanted to take the middle road.  I wish I would have decided.  It would have involved more blame.  More than I could handle.  So I walked away.  I said what I had to say.  And I left.  Because I couldn't fight in front of those strangers.  Couldn't call him a jack ass in front of my son.  So he got to keep his dignity and look good while I again lose heart. 
Simply can't keep doing this.