So, hi.

          As some of you know, one of my cats had to be put down earlier last month after having been diagnosed with mouth cancer. He belonged to one of my mother's friends, who let us keep him after she moved away, and we renamed him Chewbacca just because he snored. Anyway.

          We knew what was going to happen. We had to take him to the vet when he stopped eating, as there really was nothing anyone can do, so we tried to make his final days with us as happy as possible. Though you can never be fully prepared for a death, in this particular case, we had a few days to try and brace ourselves for this reality.

          Then, last week, another one of my cats died after being hit by a car. Alaska here was my first cat and she was here to see our remaining four cats come home (and made sure to let them know she really disliked them), and she was such a constant presence in my life that I really couldn't imagine moving on with my life without having her here.

          It's been a really rough time for me and my family, as we loved both cats dearly, but, fortunately, we've had plenty of support from our other family and friends in real life—and, in my case, from my online friends as well—so it's not like we're going through it alone. However, I really, really wish some people realized losing and mourning a pet can definitely hurt as much as losing a person, and we deserve to have a mourning period where we're thinking about ourselves and our problems.

          Like. I don't want people to walk on eggshells around me because I can take care of myself, but there are times when I really don't need people to be condescending and passive-aggressive over it. I'm a psych major and will be starting my master's degree in Clinical Psychology in two weeks from now, so I totally understand the concepts of empathy, transference, and simply being there as support. I know what it's like to be on the listening end of the duo, but there are times when I need to be on the talking, venting end, if that makes sense.

          I understand we all are going through our own problems in life. I really, really do. This can be applied to any situation in the planet, but, if someone comes to you, wanting to vent or just let their feelings out because they're feeling like crap, it costs absolutely nothing to support your friend (if you're available, of course; no one is ever available 24/7 and that needs to be respected).

          Life shouldn't be a competition about who has it worse or about who has it better. Sometimes life is about someone providing support and comfort when their friend needs it, and said friend doesn't need you to be twisting the subject until they're talking about you. We can talk about you later, absolutely, but, right now, let me have this moment!!!!! Please!!!

          This isn't about anyone in particular, of course, but it's a situation I've had to deal EXCLUSIVELY with people in real life whenever I came to them about my feelings about mourning my cats, and every single time I've had to hear the "but you're going to be a psychologist; it's your job to listen to people" argument in response to it. Because I'm going to be a psychologist, I don't get to mourn, or be sad.

          Let me quote Zimbardo for a minute here, because it wouldn't be a piece of my writing/life if I didn't.

"However, even psychologists are people, subject to the same dynamic processes at a personal level that they study at a professional level."

Zimbardo, P. (2007). The Lucifer Effect: How Good People Turn Evil. p. 99. USA: Random House.

          There's a reason why it's recommended that we go through our own psychotherapy sessions before becoming therapists ourselves. It's because we—and other people—need to remember we're human beings with thoughts, feelings, and emotions before being mental health professionals. While it is our job to help people, we often need help, too.

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? 

(Who will guard the guards themselves?)

          This isn't me asking to be pitied. This is just me asking you (general you, not you, reader, in particular!) to remember your helpers can be helped. Let them vent to you. Let yourself support them. Trust me, you'll both feel better.