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Crazy weather. One minute it is rather cool then in the blink of an eye it turns into a scorching sand storm: a splattering of thin raindrops, then suddenly a drastic drop in temperature, but still a haze over the sun that turns out to be the precursor of another sandstorm.
Similarly my moods swing from elation to frustration to loss and depression then back into frenzied excitement, anger then exhaustion.
This spring, this year. Unstable weather, unstable moods.
I have been working very hard at my new passion which is animal welfare, but suddenly find myself very restless, frustrated and quite often very angry. This work here is all uphill. There is so much that needs to be done and individual efforts seem so futile sometimes, it is very discouraging.
Cruelty and pain are the daily staple for the animals, and for anyone who loves them. It invariably means a choking sense of helpless frustration. Knowing how hurtful involvement in the daily rescue of animals could be, and knowing that I could not take that, I have opted to stick to just the one part of help that I can give. I thought I would stick to writing, hoping to raise awareness of the dire need for animal welfare and to educate people about animals and the proper ways to treat them. I thought this way I would keep my soul safe and cocoon myself away from the horror and pain that are found daily on the streets. I thought I would be safe.
I could not have been more wrong. Every single day I am bombarded by the most horrifying pictures of mutilated or tortured animals, maimed, abandoned or killed. My nights are turning into nightmares and my days are spent in futile anger and frustration. I am now very, very unhappy. Not only do I feel under pressure to help, but when I don’t, I feel guilty. So I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. This cannot go on.
Like the weather, something has to give. There cannot be constant pressure without some sort of an explosion at the end. I think I am reaching that point. I am now constantly tired, I have a continuous nagging headache and am very restless and impatient. My whole life is turning grey.
The worst part of the whole thing is I find I am even trying to avoid writing. If I am not writing something to help in educating people about animals, I feel guilty. This has put a stop to the rest of my writing and I now feel very frustrated and quite lost without what has become my outlet: my writing, my joy, my sustenance, my hobby and my fulfilment.
How could I do this to myself? How could I become so obsessed as to turn something I really love into such a burden? How could I let myself go like that? Is this a preview of what obsession really is? For the last few months I have been obsessed by animal welfare. It took over my life and managed to drown everything else. The state of the animals is so desperate, it turned my whole life miserable. I felt their physical pain. I felt their emotional pain. I felt their fear and abandonment. I felt their desperation and helplessness. This is strangling me. It has already affected my ability to write anything else not related to animal welfare. It has affected my enjoyment of other activities and it is starting to affect my health.
Enough!
I am putting my foot down and drawing a boundary line. This is now a question of my own survival and quality of life. I have the deepest respect and admiration for those who do it on a daily basis, day in day out, for years. I cannot do that. I have to ration myself. I cannot come to a complete halt, my conscience won’t let me, but I really have to pace myself. If I don’t, I would become useless to this cause which is very dear to my heart, and will lose myself as well.
I love animals dearly. But I want to go back to the joy they give me. I cannot live through any more of their pain, it is too much for me. I shall try my best to return to the comfort my own furry family gives me, though never completely forgetting the other side of the coin. Life could be extremely cruel, but it would be self defeating if we let it turn us from the joy that can be found there and see only its desperation.
For the foreseeable future, I shall be deliberately looking upon the joy and beauty of the animal kingdom as demonstrated by my very own. That is my only hope for healing my ravished psyche and my lacerated soul. I must go through a period of healing, rejuvenation and gathering of strength, to continue in this devastating battle for those poor, helpless creatures.
9 April 2016

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