Blurry self-portrait with a leaf, taken today in the backyard. I am trying to express grief.
Even though he's not primarily my pet, I feel very sad that Pickle (the family parakeet) is sick. He's such a sweet, funny bird--and now he's going to die. I took him to the vet yesterday, and she told me that he probably has a tumor. At the moment he's doing very badly--all puffed up, shivering, and unable to breathe properly. It's awful to see him be so miserable. The kindest thing would be euthanasia, so he doesn't have to suffer any longer. But it's not my decision.
Death is on my mind. I keep thinking about how heartbreaking it will be when my dog dies, and about the terrifying future of life without my parents. Just the thoughts are enough to make me cry. At least I'll probably pass away before my sister.
I can't help wishing, albeit only slightly, that I could die in Pickle's stead. He's always so joyful and joy-bringing, and I'm... not.
But maybe that's depression-brain talking. Maybe I bring the world more happiness than I realize.
I like this. Although 'like' is probably not the most appropriate word in this case.
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