Jessica Hill White
April 7 at 10:59 PM ·

I’m not even burnt out on rescue, I’m beyond that. I don’t know what I am. I just keep going though, like my brain hasn’t been shutdown for months. It’s impressive really: the amount of stress, heartbreak, and relentless amount of suffering you can witness and still continue to function. I don’t know how I do it.

I’m not bragging on myself. I really don’t know how I’ve not lost my mind. Or maybe I have & I’m too crazy to see it.

I sat down in the bathroom today after washing that dog’s blood off my hands. (Last night I was in the same bathroom washing the oppossums blood off my hands.) And I looked at them thinking how many times have I washed something’s blood off of me? How many dead and dying things have been in my hands? It’s like a slide show in my head playing through death highlights that I’ve encountered over my 30 years. Like I’m in a movie but I’m just in a bathroom too in my own head.

I get tired of seeing things die.
Trying to save them.
Wanting to save them.
Always needing to move something out of harms way.
There’s always something in harms way here.

I’d like to shut my Facebook down for my mental health but I can’t because I’ll need to beg for money everyday this week for Mazel so she can be helped. All week I’ll be panicking that I won’t get the money, It’s a lot of money.

I’ll wonder why I do this to myself half the week then I’ll turn right around and do it again with no hesitation. It’s a vicious cycle.

I sat up until 2:30 am with the last baby opossum last night because I knew she was dying. Every night hundreds of them are killed on the road and no one thinks a thing about it. Doesn’t bother them. Just an opossum. Millions of them. I thought about that while I was digging though their mother’s corpse for them knowing they would never survive. Wishing I could be one of those normal people that never take into consideration the pain of animals or one of those people that aren’t blind to it but just don’t want to involve themselves with it.

I don’t like to feel helpless, I am always supposed to know what to do, to have what I need. For two days now I’ve just been useless really. I didn’t have what I needed to try to to save the baby opossums. I just had to make do. There wasn’t anything anyone could have done for the dog but I’ll still think of something I should have done different today.

I didn’t even realize it until tonight but when I had went to my truck the first time to get a blanket to cover her, I also had haphazardly
cleared my backseat to lay her there.

I knew I couldn’t move her.

I don’t know why I did that.

Habit I guess.