This is my follow-up articulo to my last one "What's the point?"

Let me start por saying that I have thought long and hard about what tu all had to say regarding my article. And I think it's time I reveal más of whats going on.

For what seems like forever (actually about 2 years o so) I have been battling depression. And when I am dealing with my depression, it's not always easy to see the good in this world. I've also thought that maybe some of my depression was brought on por my own self, but other times it may be an actual severe case of it. Because when tu have depression, tu tend to view the world darkly. But anyway...

I don't know if tu are aware of this o not, but on some of the preguntas on the misceláneo club, I tend to mention a dog on a few of them. The dog that I mentioned is named Duji (Dew-jee) who is my dog. On 1/13/2013, I lost him to the outside world. When I think back to that día (and I do it a lot) I can still remember exactly what was going on the día before it. I remember what I was doing, what I was thinking and how I felt. The día before, my mother and I were in town, while my aunt stayed with her grand kids (who were at our house at the time. When we arrived home, we instantly discovered that Duji had been let outside (he was a small, cute lil long-haired chihuahua, so he was an inside dog) and he had ran off--as he always had a habit of doing--and as usual, I panicked. This sorta thing with Duji always happened, so I were kinda "use to it" in a way, but it still worried me. Some guy dicho he found Duji in a puddle, not moving much. He dicho had taken him to the vet, but none of us believed it. He was alive, but in bad shape. Had been attacked por bigger dogs, and we assume he either died of internal injuries o corazón attack--possibly both, due to him being old. He was 13 (Over 70 dog years), so he lived a long life.

What's worse is that even before we knew of his injuries, I KNEW what was happening. My world as I had known it was coming to an end, and I couldn't stop it. Hell, later that same night, there I was sitting siguiente to Duji while he laid underneath to mesa, tabla where our big screen TV sat, and I swear I felt it. I knew Duji was dying. I wanted so bad to hug Duji just one last time--just once. But at that time, I knew Duji had those injuries, so I decided not to touch him, out of fear of hurting him. And it's just.... the way Duji looked at me, it was as if he knew what was doing on. I think Duji knew he was dying as well. And so, Duji and I took one last look at each other, with me knowing I'd never see him again. And that was it. That one single moment was the last I'd ever get with him. And the VERY siguiente morning--not even 5 min after waking up--reality had smacked me hard in the face. Duji was where I last saw him, laying there underneath the table, eyes wide open, meaning he passed while awake.

The siguiente few weeks afterwards was hell. I admit I had some minor depressive moments in my life, but Duji's death is what broken the last straw. I'll tell tu straight up that all I did after his death was stay in my room, laying the bed, with the blinds closed. It got so bad I couldn't stand to look look outside. Outside was bright and beautiful (during the día of course) but inside--inside me--all I felt was darkness. Darkness was all I saw anymore. And for a long period of time, darkness was all I wanted. In a morbid sense, darkness "comforted" me. Going out into "the light" (outside) just hurt too much. Fast adelante, hacia adelante to now, and I'm doing fair.... as said, my depression comes and goes and even to this day, the pain of the día stills hurts. I guess that's the point: I'll always miss Duji, that's all there is to it. Now, I know most owner say the same thing about their pets, but Duji truly was special to me. más special anyone will ever understand. Duji himself was very unique--you couldn't have asked for a más human-like dog than him. That dog wasn't stupid in anyway. He was smart, fun and the most beautiful dog I've had the chance to bond with. When times were tough, I was thanked God for giving him to me. He gave me strength, he gave me hope. And as I look back, I'm thankful for what Duji did for me.

However, my amor for Duji wasn't always there. When I first got him back in 2000 (just a few weeks after he was born), I hated that dog. I used to be soooo mean to that poor baby, and being the dumb 10 año old that I was, I couldn't see the whole picture. I couldn't see why Duji was there, why he was in my life. I just remember wanting him to go away, and leave me alone. But over the years, that hatred I once held transformed into love. It took me several years, but before I knew it, Duji and I were inseparable. I know regret ever being so hostile to my son. In no way did Duji ever deserve that--how could he? He never did crap to me, except help me in ways that I was too blind to see. When he died, it was then I knew just how much we had bonded. While he was alive, I told Duji many times that I would always come back to him. I made a promise to him, and I'll keep it forever. But even to this day, I still don't understand why Duji was there. Will I ever know? Not sure, but I am grateful to God for giving me hope in a cute lil ball of fur.

I don't expect any of tu to understand our, bond at least now tu know one of the reasons for my depression.