✧ Log — #20

yesterday was certifiably, the worst day in the history of my bad days. i thought i would detail its events here to immortalise the roller coaster i have been on. apologies if things are stretched out. i am currently running on a singular V energy drink, and have been awake for 27 hours.

these events are entirely true and i'm honestly under firm belief that this was my designated "bad karma" day.

for context, let's start with friday. i'm currently in the middle of my HSC exams (final high school exams for anyone unaware), and my parents are out of the state for a wedding. my dog has had a stomach bug since thursday night, which isn't great - considering i had to clean up vomit before my 3 hour exam on friday. i come home, me and my little brother have pizza, i sob over our flag means death (<3), and the day closes.

saturday arrives. casual morning, didn't have the best sleep, perhaps about four hours. i was lying awake most of the time worrying my dog would throw up again, which she did, three more times. basically lived in constant fear that the carpet would be further stained yellow. 

yesterday happened to be voting day here in australia for the new referendum. it's my first time ever voting, so i was eager. my brother and i left the house at 11:30am. however, as i closed the door behind us, i heard a strange click. worried, i tried to open the door with my keys, only to discover the old latch none of us ever used decided that today it wanted to lock. after some back and forth, and an embarrassed phone call to my mother, we waited half an hour for the locksmith to come help. an honest mistake, but costly. 200$ is truly an insane price to pay.

anyway, we get in, locks are fine. back to voting. we walk, since the nearest voting place is quite close, and i vote and buy a sausage sizzle. we head to the nearby supermarket and buy some snacks, and pick up some special food from the vet for my dog, that supposedly helps her stomach. we come home at around 2pm, and i relish in a quiet afternoon.

my brother makes dinner at 7pm. i can't seem to stomach it, which is fair considering my diet thus far hasn't been the best. i watch some shows, then settle in for an early bed at 10pm. i need to get my sleep in check after all, i have exams on wednesday. unfortunately i discovered then that the voting i had participated in was already being called, and had failed to pass. a shitty thing to end on, but tomorrow's a new day.

12am rolls around. i'm woken up by the sound of harsh knocking on our front door. i'm startled, half-asleep, trying to find a pair of pants. loud knocking sounds again. i know this sounds dramatic but this was genuinely really scary for me. i have horrible anxiety, especially when i'm in charge. my thoughts in that moment were tossed between, "is it a neighbour, coming to ask for help with something urgent?" or, and this seemed to be the loudest probability, "am i about to get fucking murdered on my front doorstep?" 

it's deathly silent in my suburb at 12am, people aren't awake. so, naturally, you can see why i believed for a solid moment that i was going fucking crazy, because when i opened the door, there was no one standing there. i panicked, the latter of my two possibilities growing louder, picturing a home invader moving around the side of my house, perhaps attempting to get in through the back way. 

i woke my brother up and asked him if he had received any messages, hoping that it was someone we knew. not to my complete relief, he found messages and two missed calls from some of his friends. apparently, these fucking 14 year olds at a sleepover together thought it would be fun to go out at night and ding dong ditch a bunch of houses in the street, and pester ours the most - since my brother had graciously let slip that our parents were gone. he called his friends, and as i heard them laughing on the phone, i could hear them laughing outside too. they tried to give one final scare and started banging on the front windows, but after i yelled at them, they ran off.

it was fine. whatever. dumb teenage boys. but the adrenaline had hit me so hard that i didn't register the panic attack that had formed in me. i called my mother to let her know what happened, and was shaking the entire time. 

i tried to go back to sleep, but i stayed on high alert for a good hour or so. i couldn't go back, every noise our house makes made me flinch. i decided to just wait it out, play roblox and watch slimecicle until i felt like passing out. 

3am arrives, and i can feel myself wanting to slip to sleep. but i don't get that, oh no, not today.

my dog gets up from my bed, and i follow, worried she'll throw up again inside. i let her out, and watch as she eats some grass. i wish i hadn't just stood there, despite knowing that grass makes her sick. but i was so unbelievably tired, and lacked any care, so i waited. she came inside, and i kept her in the kitchen, so she wouldn't barf on the carpet once more. 

sure enough, an hour later, she throws up in the kitchen. but this time is different. it's not that putrid yellow. no, it's pink.

if you aren't aware, when dogs throw up too much, eventually they start to throw up blood. it's a natural thing, can happen with anything. but my sleep-deprived brain believed it to be the absolute end of all things. and in the midst of this pink? fucking grass.

the vet i had bought the food from earlier on saturday gave me an emergency vet number to call. when i did, i suffered embarrassment shortly after, as they were more so for booking emergency walk-ins, rather than give full-proof advice. 

after learning that my dog might need to see a vet as soon as possible, i broke down.

so much had happened, and now the issue of getting my dog to said vet was a mission. i don't have my license, and it's 4 in the morning. who will help me out, let alone find a vet that's open at 4? i just sit outside, ball my eyes out in the pitch black darkness, watching over my dog as she sits by me.

my genuine plan in that moment was to wait until sunrise, 2 hours from then, and then maybe see if i can do something more. yes. i was going to sit until 6am in the freezing darkness, sobbing to heaven and earth.

"i don't want to leave my dog because when she's left alone outside she barks, and then the neighbours will wake up and be mad. but i can't wait out here for 2 hours, that's insane, i need to call someone. but i can't call someone because it's so quiet out here and the neighbours will wake up and-"

complete breakdown. 

i reached out briefly to my online friend who i noticed was active. if you ever see this silas, i owe you so much gratitude. you talked to me and distracted me long enough for me to come to my senses, step inside and call my mother. she then called a better vet helpline, relayed the advice he informed her of, and told me to get some rest. turns out, all my dog will need is some boiled chicken, and her stomach should settle. if not, it's something serious. 

5:30am, sunday. i feel like every piece of energy i have has been completely drained from me. my mother says i should nap, and that a family friend will visit later to check up on me and the dog. but i haven't slept. it's been four hours since then. and here i am, typing to you.

this reads like some mary sue detailing how horrible her life is. i genuinely have no idea how all of this happened to me in the span of 24 hours. if this isn't all some elaborate prank show, or perhaps the universe's way of telling me my exams will do great, then i'm convinced i've been cursed.