Back in March, me and my family got a kitten. We named him Jet. He was the sweetest baby I could ask for. He would come when you called and loved to be held, sometimes for hours at a time. We have another cat and they would play together and sleep next to each other. 

However, shortly after we got Jet, he started having health issues. He became very lethargic and wasn’t moving so we took him to the vet. He stayed for a night and recovered over the next few days. 

A few weeks ago, he started having seizures. It was so scary to see. He again went to the vet and was put on medication. Not long after he had another seizure, but a really bad one this time. He went into heart failure and was put on oxygen but they couldn’t save him. 

Last week I was so suicidal that I couldn’t function and thought things couldn’t get worse. Monday I found just enough strength to get out of bed. The little progress I made was annihilated by the news. He was only 9 months old. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Jet. I can’t believe he’s actually dead. It feels like my life is a nightmare. 

The house feels empty without him and I feel even lonelier. My cats have been my only friends (since everyone else has abandoned me). I don’t know why I even try anymore. Clearly the world doesn’t want me to experience joy or companionship. Maybe I should just accept defeat.