Most of my life I’ve gone with whatever comes my way. I've just been going through the motions of the world and seeing where it takes me. I had a plan..sort of. I just wanted to be somebody and do something worthwhile. What it’d be, I never did know. I guess that’s just the life of a depressed and anxious teenager. You never do know what to do with life because you always expect to be hit with never-ending obstacles, whether it’s life’s tribulations or your brain telling you aren’t worth anything. Life is just life.
I’ve had thoughts of ending my own life, thinking that living isn’t even worthwhile. It’s not like I have that much impact on the world, but the idea of my family always stopped me. The thought that I would leave my family with the burden of feeling responsible for my death made me quit my suicide plans. It made the voices in my head stop at least for a while. I always felt alone. Even if I was filled with friends and family who cared about me. I had this hole in my heart that I needed to be filled and then it happened. A reason to live and keep going came.
My reason to live came in the form of a six-month old gray kitten. The ASPCA rescued him and a neighbor of mine to decided to foster him. She went around asking people if they would adopt the little kitten. She came up to me and my mom to ask us if we would want him since my mom mentioned to her that I love animals. My mom didn’t want a cat since she thought it’d be a lot of work, but I begged her to give me a chance to show that I could take care of the kitten. I assured her that if and when I got the kitten I would be responsible for everything. I always loved cats, but once my depression and anxiety hit with full force, I became obsessed with them.
My mom agreed to make a trial run with the kitten. I researched and bought everything I would need for my kitten. I was ecstatic to get him and was filled with joy when I went to pick him up. Once he came home, it was hard at first. He cried for three days and two nights. Those days and nights I was going to college, so it affected me in a way, but I never did give up. I was sure that the kitten who I named Hermes would be the greatest thing in my life. Somewhere deep inside me, I knew that this kitten was made for me, and I was right.
As Hermes became more comfortable in his new home, he grew closer to me. I was the one who played with him, fed him, and cleaned up after him. As the days passed by, Hermes and I got into a routine of sleeping near each other. One way or another we ended up sleeping near each other. Hermes at night would usually play around and then fall asleep, but one night he started to cry. I decided to get up and see what happened and that was when I realized that the kitten I adopted was just as damaged as me. It turns out that his days living out on the street are still vivid to him. Sometimes he gets a nightmare, and I have to comfort him until he settles down; other times he climbs up to my bed and lays down beside my feet.
Hermes, just like me, is emotionally damaged; therefore he tends to be clingy and fears that one day we might abandon him. Of course, I’d never leave Hermes. After all he has become essential in my life. I’ve cried in front of him, and although Hermes doesn’t lick my tears away like other cats, he does come near me and lays beside me. He may not be the most social cat, but to me he is perfect. He makes me laugh and smile. He made me realize that it’s okay not to be alright. Through him, I’ve come to realize that life, although sometimes dreary, is worth living. I can’t say I 100 percent have an idea of what I’d be. All I know is that I wish to be a writer, but more importantly, a person who can be an advocate for people like me, as well as for animals. Hermes has taught me to be more carefree as well as to look forward to tomorrow. I may have some shitty days, but I know that with my cat as well as my family I can get through everything.