Dogaholic

  As many of you know, as I talk about every time I see someone, I work at a dog daycare. I've been there a year on December 1st, a year which has only increased my love of my furry friends. Working there full time over the summer especially helped me increase both my passion and my confidence with them, and now I constantly sit down on the floor and just let the dogs climb in my lap and lick my face since I know they would never hurt me. I've even become obsessed with a breed other than German Shepherds, Vizslas!
  Going through my depression and anxiety has been hard, and there is still many days I want to just give up. Days where all I want to do is sleep and maybe watch Netflix. There are some nights where I don't even want dessert! My mind races about college and scholarships and broken friendships and things I've said and homework... the list goes on. When a dog is licking my face or is curled up in my lap, I find it very hard to feel sad. I trust my dogs more than I do anyone else. They never care how broken out my face is, how anxious I am, what I say, or even how tired I am. They are always there to lick away my tears or warm me up when I have a cold flash (hot and cold flashes can occur in people with anxiety, fyi).
  Knowing that for the next few years I'll be in college and won't be allowed to have a dog brings me to tears. Dogs have been the only thing that has made me feel normal again since my first panic attack 2 years ago on Halloween. I do not qualify for an emotional support dog as I can still 'function normally' in society. And yes, technically if you live in a house off campus you can get a pet, but I doubt as a college student I would be able to afford a dog.
  This week was long, this week was hard, this week I felt very sick. But every day I knew that I had a group of dogs waiting for me who love me more than I love myself, and that is what keeps me going. Sometimes when I feel like giving up, I think about how strong I have had to be to get to this point, and how becoming agoraphobic again wouldn't let me see my babies every weekday. When my stomach is so upset I don't want to eat or even move, I always find hope in my dogs. I think about Indie whom I love beyond words; or Odo who always comes to my side when two dogs start playing or I sit on the floor so he can protect me. I think about Sunny who loves to howl with me and is always ready for a snuggle, or Dante who always smiles at me (OMG it is so cute).
  These dogs have given me motivation, have given me my life back, even if it is just the few hours I am with them I feel as though I matter and I can be myself. Anxiety and depression is very isolating, often I feel so frustrated with my own thoughts I lash out at others with my words. But dogs, they could honestly care less what you say as long as you say it in a baby voice and maybe jump around a bit. These dogs mean the world to me, and every day I go to work I know it's just one more day of memories I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

~MG