I love cats. Clearly I do, I have a blog about them. I work at a cats only veterinary clinic. I care for feral cats. I’ve spent the best part of my life working with and for cats. I think that’s where the problem lies. I’ve spent my whole life absorbed in cats.
And I’m burnt out.
I have been struggling with compassion fatigue for years, and it finally got to the point I had to step away from rescue work. I spend my days working with cats. It is hard to come home and delve even further into the world of cats to keep my blog going.
There is more to me than cats. Sometimes it is hard for even me to believe this. Cats make me happy. Nothing calms me down or cheers me up like petting a cat. Nothing makes me laugh life cats. Cats also make me depressed and anxious-well, more specifically the situations in which many cats find themselves due to the neglect or ignorance of humans.
Life in 2015 was hard, and blogging was even harder. As I am sure any readers surely noticed. The number of cats I have cared for has slowly decreased over the years since I started my blog. Leaving me with fewer personal stories to share.
Crash’s slow decline in health and his death in June, just days before his 20th birthday, may have done me in. I miss my cats more than words can describe. There truly is a hole in my life where Crash, Muffin and Sam were. While I have my Sneakers friend, we all know that pets can never be replaced.
The compassion fatigue hit me super hard in 2015, because I had been trying to ignore it. The feeling that I need to do more for cats hasn’t gone away though, leaving me feeling both guilty and burnt out.
The past year was spent mostly trying to keep myself together, for reasons beyond cats as well.
So, the point of this post? I’m not sure. Is it a sign off? I hope not, but maybe. Is it an explanation of where I’ve been? Yes. Is the start of a new conversation about compassion fatigue and caring for yourself while caring for animals? Maybe. Is it the start of a new year of posting? I sure hope so.
Thanks for reading.