The Stages of Grief

It was recently brought to my attention that I am going through the five stages of grief, brought on by the disappearance of our cat, Mr. Squiggles. We still have hope that he'll be found, but the fact remains that he's been missing for one month today. I haven't seen him in over five weeks.

We often think of grief as something that takes place after a loved one dies, but really, any trauma can bring it on. I'm experiencing it now, but I also went through these stages when Indiana was diagnosed with cancer.

1. Denial

Then: This can't possibly be happening! She can't be dying! How could my dog get cancer?

Now: This can't possibly be happening! My cat can't be missing! How could this happen to us?

2. Anger

Then: Why? Why is this happening? This is so unfair! Indiana doesn't deserve this; we don't deserve this. Damn you, God, why are you doing this?

Now: Why? Why is this happening? This is so unfair! We've done everything we can to be good parents, and this is how we are rewarded? Damn you, God, why are you doing this?

3. Bargaining

Then: Ok. What's it going to take to make things right? I'll give anything to save her. I'll give up my career. I love my career. Take it, just save her.

Now: Fix this! Make it right! I'll give anything to have him back. I'm doing everything I can to find him, spending any amount of time and money. We need and deserve him back!

4. Depression

Then: She might die. How will I survive if she dies? Life is so unfair. What is the point? How do I get through this? I'm walking through life with a dark cloud permanently following me.

Now: We might never get him back. He could be dead. Even if he's not, we might never see him again. How can I survive never seeing him again? Was the last time I saw him the last time? Is that the last touch I'll ever have? The last kiss? How do I get through this? I'm walking through life with a could permanently following me.

5. Acceptance

Then: This is awful and scary, but life has to go on. Every day that she survives makes it more likely that she'll live cancer-free for the rest of her days. I have to move past the fear and pain and realize we can beat the cancer.

Now: I haven't reached this stage yet. I don't think I want to.

Every day that he's missing is that much harder. We still have hope, but it gets more difficult. Others don't understand and think there's no way we'll get him back. They are wrong. I have no time or patience anymore for those who don't get it. I don't want to "accept that you might not get him back" or "think about getting another cat." My cat very likely could still be out there, and I will keep looking for him forever. I don't want another cat, because I want back the one I've lost. My life isn't whole with part of my family missing.

I don't know if it's comforting to realize I'm going through the stages of grief. Does it really matter? Perhaps it does. Three years ago, when Indiana was diagnosed with cancer, I thought my world was crashing in. But my strength got me through that crisis, and every day, it gets a little easier to live with a cancer diagnosis. If I could survive that, I can survive this. It's not been easy, but I remain hopeful and strong. Some days I feel like curling up into a ball and never emerging, and I don't try to fight those days too much. As with any roller coaster ride, the dips will be followed by a rise. I just have to ride it out.