Serious Seeking input (aka: Why CiCi is Having a Mental Breakdown 2: Electric Boogaloo)

[CiCi]

Warning: contains animal neglect, hoarding, death, suicidal thoughts, depression, and a ton of heavy subjects. If this sort of thing distresses you, don't read.​

I've been stewing over this for far too long and every day, it seems a little more of me breaks. Now I'm at a complete breaking point. So much so that I'm about to air my dirty laundry, which is odd for someone as reserved as I am. Strap in. This will be a long one.

My husband's family is... Awful. He agrees. They are irresponsible and treat me like dirt. They've gotten better at the latter, but not so much the former. The worst offender of irresponsibility is certainly his brother. Let's call him B. B is in prison for something utterly reprehensible, but that's not what I'm here to talk about.

What I'm here to talk about is the inundation of animals his irresponsibility and poor life choices has given me. Let's give some backstory. B had 3 cats and 2 dogs. He had no job, no money, and lived in a filthy house with no power while he and his animals starved. B had to move in with his grandmother, an absolute control freak who also lived/lives in a dirty, filthy house (I seriously hate even being in there, it's so gross; she's a hoarder and doesn't clean anything so there's stuff and trash just EVERYWHERE, but I digress). One dog had to go. I have no idea what happened to the poor thing.

The other went with him, as well as his 3 cats. Here's the real kicker: of the cats, 2 are male, 1 is female, and none were fixed. His dog, now our beloved Cocoa, wasn't fixed then, either. Poor Cocoa had been forced to live outside and wasn't allowed in the house. The cats, meanwhile, were forced to live upstairs in B's cluttered and trash-filled room. You couldn't even walk in that room because there was so much crap everywhere. The cats were also in cages that they would often break out of because apparently B couldn't figure out cages.

As you might expect, the cats began to breed. Somehow, no one knew it was happening until kittens showed up. Which really goes to show how little they paid attention because female cats in heat and doing the do are so incredibly loud. The first batch of kittens, my husband and I didn't know about because no one told us. They wound up selling the kittens and, realizing they could make a profit by doing fuck-all, let them breed yet again. In the midst of this, B gets sent to jail, and grandmother and sister are then in charge of taking care of the cats.

This is where I come in. I hear about the second batch of kittens (horrified that there had been a first) and want to go see them. At this point, my husband (then-boyfriend) and I have moved in together in our own house instead of an apartment, and we took Cocoa (who'd been promptly fixed and vaxxed). That's when I finally see the state these cats lived in: litter boxes piled high with piss and shit, disgusting stench of urine and feces, food bowls with mouse poop and ants all around, trash and dirty clothes and junk everywhere - I wish I was exaggerating - and then two kittens with Momma, both still blind with umbilical cords attached, laying in one of the cages on dirty newspapers. I decide right then and there that this is crazy and these cats can NOT stay in this environment. I take Momma and the kittens to my home.

Well, Momma starts peeing inappropriately on my dogs' beds and the floor. I power through until the 8 week mark, then she's shipped off to my grandmother who'd already agreed to take her since she had no dogs and 2 cats who were good with other cats. Seemed a fair trade. The twins, Venus and Deziree, then grow up in my house. They've had everything handed to them and their lives have been as stress-free as possible. Attempts at finding family members willing to take them while also willing to spay them were a bust, so I got stuck with them. And yes, we had the spaying done. Things weren't TOO bad... Until Venus decided that she was going to take up her mother's mantle.

Venus pisses all over the house. She destroyed my hallway to the point where we bought a gate to keep her out. We tore up the carpet and put in hardwood floors because of the smell. She decided then to start peeing in my living room. She does use the litter box, sometimes. I've seen her do it. But then sometimes she doesn't. And her pee spots seem so random: sometimes near the box, sometimes in the middle of nowhere. There were several times I just wanted her out of my house because I couldn't handle the stress of cleaning cat urine and smelling it constantly. I'm a HUUUGE neat freak so her wrecking my house has slowly but surely deteriorated my mental health. I've tried shelves, trees, Feliway, catnip everywhere, playtime - I mean seriously EVERYTHING that every single website, cat lover, and cat trainer has suggested.

Deziree SCREECHES for her food. I mean LOUD, obnoxious screeching, running up to your face to screech. We've tried to stop this behavior by ignoring her until she's quiet, but she does NOT stop. It takes 10 minutes of listening to her screeching (making the food and then putting it down) into 25 or more minutes instead. We've tried squirting her but that only serves to make her soaked and screechy for 25+ minutes. We've tried to redirect the behavior through training her to sit, but she only sits for 5 seconds, screaming the whole time, before getting up to demand food again. I dread feeding time because I know she's going to grate and grate until I also want to scream. And no, there is nothing physically wrong with her, she is just demanding and obnoxious.

In the meantime, someone in my family who'd been taking care of the other 2, the males from B, are too lazy to do anything with the cats they'd claimed they wanted so badly. Unfortunately, my grandmother steps in this time and takes them. So now the cats are deposited thusly: 2 of them for me, 3 of them for her; 3 in total for me, 5 for her. We're just drowning in cats thanks to B's utter ineptitude at life (and we're both dog people, go figure).

I try a few more times to find new homes for the twins, but no one bites. No one wants to adopt older cats, despite their good health and up-to-date shots.

My grandmother passes away. 1 of the 3 cats in her household, Garfield, gets adopted. The other 2, Xena and Oreo, do not. They were going to get sent to a shelter when I stepped in to foster them until we could find a furever home.

That was a mistake.

It's been 3 months, and I'm feeling trapped in my own home. I have 5 cats now, 4 of which I didn't want nor plan for. 4 of which I wouldn't have if my husband's side of the family wasn't so inept at doing something as simple as taking care of animals (husband agrees, just so we're clear). To make matters worse, the mother of the kittens is a HUGE bully and is bullying her daughters and my other cat, Cicero. Venus is a bully as well, and it's causing a lot of stress in the house, as well as innumerable cat fights thus far.

(For those wondering: the new 2 had their own room for a month and a half. We have Feliway diffusers, and we rotated beds, toys, and scratching posts in the hopes that everyone would get used to each other's scents. We used that large gate no one can jump to section the cats off, where they met for the first time. We fed them on either side of the gate and treated them and played with them. We have cat trees, shelves, 6 litter boxes, tunnels, etc. None of this has worked. The girls just keep fighting. Xena and Oreo had to be moved into the basement because their bedroom is SUPPOSED to be the baby's room. The baby's room is finished and awaiting him/her, but I still can't get these cats under control.)

Now I'm stuck here. 5 cats. 4 of which I didn't want and have been trying to rehome for far too long. I know cat lovers don't like hearing this, but I seriously can't stand cats. In fact, I'd say I hate them. Wasn't always the case. I used to tolerate them. I even loved my old cat, Mitzi (who'd been starving on the streets), and then rescued Cicero (who nobody wanted) who has always been a pain but I love him, too. These other 4? I don't love them. I can't even say that I tolerate them. And generally? I don't like cats. I don't plan on ever rescuing anymore cats after this. They're not cute or fun or quirky or interesting. They're gross, obnoxious, stupid, and stressful.

Ever since my beloved, beautiful Briggs passed away over 2 weeks ago, I can no longer handle all these cats. Not that I could before then, either, but I was able to keep going.

I can't keep going. Venus has taken to pissing up walls. Her and Xena are in constant fur-flying fights. Xena won't stop chasing and bullying my other 3. Oreo isn't too bad, he just bites when you pet him "wrong" or if you ignore him. Deziree screeches for food several times a day, even when it's not feeding time.

Cicero is the only one I like. He doesn't do anything wrong, is so chill, and is unfortunately being harassed by Xena all the time now.

B says he'd take Oreo and Xena after he gets out of prison next year but: 1) I don't trust him, and 2) I can't live like this for an entire year. The thought of keeping Deziree and Venus around for another 10 has had me breakdown and sob on more than one occasion.

I feel like a complete failure. I feel like the worst pet parent in the world. But I want these cats out of my life forever. The only one I'm willing to keep is the only one I willingly wanted in the first place: Cicero. I feel like my house has a become a cat room and board for mine and my husband's families. I feel especially bad about the twins because they've lived here for 5 years and it's all they know, but I don't want to keep them. I've NEVER wanted to keep them, but unfortunate circumstances has kept me saddled with them this whole time. It's not fair on the cats nor on me that my husband's brother couldn't do a few simple things in life: stay out of trouble, keep a job, and care for his zoo of cats.

And the absolute dumbass is saying he wants to get 2 dogs when he gets out of jail, God help me. He's NEVER getting Cocoa back, that's for sure, despite the husband's side of the family constantly calling her "B's dog". We've had Cocoa longer than B had her. We've done more with Cocoa than B ever had. We take Cocoa to her annual vet visits which B never did. Why my husband's side of the family is so insistent and entitled about Cocoa is beyond me. I feel like they just don't respect me or even my husband at all. Thank God at least B has "agreed" to "let" us keep Cocoa (as if he had a choice or any say in the matter). But I digress, yet again.

I'm at my wit's end here. It's gotten to the point where I just don't care about anything anymore (except Cocoa - I force myself to walk her, I spoil her like mad, and she gets top-quality, human-grade food. She and my husband are currently the best things in the world and the only reasons I'm continuing on). I can't keep the house up, can't keep food on the table (and yes, the husband is helping immensely and taking on way more than he really should be since he also works), and I'm not taking care of myself - and thus I'm not taking care of this baby.

Bloodwork has come back from my ob that says I'm extremely anemic because I haven't been eating well nor keeping up with my prenatal vitamins. The scariest part is that I don't even want this baby anymore. What was once excitement has turned into contempt: contempt that I'm now pregnant and always exhausted, contempt that my life has spiraled out of control almost in tandem with this pregnancy, contempt that I'm saddled with 4 cats that I don't even want, and contempt that things have drained me so much that I can no longer feel anything but contempt, guilt, and shame.

I feel so lost and broken. Husband and Mom are deeply worried about me, and that's for the best. I've had a long history with depression and suicidal ideation/attempts. I'm terrified of returning to suicidal thoughts, but I can feel them rearing their ugly head. For the past couple of days, these little, wriggling, vagaries have cropped up: "What if I just ended it now?", "What's the point anymore?", "I'd rather not be alive.", "I don't even want to wake up." I know this is the start of suicidal ideations, which inevitably will turn to... Well...

I know at least some of this can be chalked up to pregnancy hormones. Some of it can be chalked up to me losing 4 very precious people in 4 short years. First it was my lovely bunny, Blitz, who I'd gotten off the streets after she was abandoned. She died suddenly of unknown causes (possible RHDV). Then it was my sweet baby, Tachi, who I'd had for 12 years before cancer and a collapsed larynx took his life over the course of 6 difficult months. Then it was my beautiful and loving grandmother, who died after years of battling heart failure and COPD. And then only a few months later, my beloved baby boy, 5-year-old Briggs, died quite quickly of what seemed to be congenital liver disease.

I watched all of them die slowly. I held Blitz, Tachi, and Briggs in my arms as they crossed the rainbow bridge. I witnessed my grandmother's bedridden deterioration after so long of doing everything my mother and I could to help her. And then even more stress can be attributed to being stuck with 4 cats against my will who are all stressing me out to the point I just don't want to be home to deal with them. All of these things combined have been slowly killing me. In the past 2 weeks since Briggs's death, I've had at least half a dozen full-on mental breakdowns of me scream-crying. Sometimes over him. Sometimes over the cats. Sometimes because I feel trapped...

I think that about covers my story. I'm so depressed and stressed and with this baby on the way I KNOW I can't handle continuing life the way that it is. So... AITA for wanting to rehome the twins? AITA for wishing that I'd never stepped in so the 2 new ones didn't go to a shelter? AITA for now wanting to just give up and drop all 4 of them off at a (no-kill) shelter and be done with it?

Anyone have any advice? Anyone know how to rehome cats quickly but safely? Anyone even know how best to reduce my stress levels? Hell, I'd take even some validation or berating at this point. SOMETHING to let me know that I'm not crazy.

 

[Megan]

Just give them to a shelter. You can't deal with them and your family either can't handle them or just don't want to and your brother especially doesn't seem up for it. It's nice of you to try and find better places for those cats to stay but clearly it has not worked out and what's worse: it has put you in a very dark place mentally. And it's not going to get better if you don't do anything about it, especially with a child on the horizon.

You also have to consider that those cats probably don't have the best time either if they just spend most of their time fighting and throwing their dirt around. They need people that give them the treatment they need. But you've already said that you can't provide that (because of how overwhelming it has been for you) and you also don't know anyone who can do that in your stead.

I actually don't know why you avoided the shelter for so long. And I probbaly don't need to know. But I do think it's your best option. Both for you and your family, and the cats.

 

[Meganium]

Girl, I'm just gonna be brutally honest here.

First off, animal shelters do take surrenders. Call around.

Second off, why are you still there? You need to be upfront with your husband and tell him how you truly feel about his family. I wouldn't marry a guy who's family does not treat me with respect, that was a dealbreaker with my previous one, because I didn't feel respected. Do you have anyone close by (friends, family, etc) that can maybe allow you to stay with them for a few days or a week? And on top of that you're PREGNANT. Just...honestly if I was in your shoes I would have already packed and left. But I understand it's not easy.

You still need to have open and honest communication with your husband, that's why you married him, and he married you. A happy marriage should ALWAYS include honest communication, because that can go a long way. If you two do not agree, or if your husband is too defensive towards his family and not with you, then you're going to have to make a plan of action for yourself to get out. From the sounds of it, he is not putting you and your baby on his priorities list, and I feel that is very important.

Please take care of yourself, k.

 

[Corrin]

I don't know why you're refusing shelters, they'd have likely gotten them rehomed quickly. At this point, your health is at stake and the cats are stressed. I really hope you do consider sheltering them and get some much needed rest and nutrition.

Also, I agree that you do need to be upfront with your husband, or his family since he agrees. You both should be, you two do not deserve to suffer from their ineptitude. You have a right to let your feelings and boundaries be known.

 

[CiCi]

I checked around shelters before the Covid scare, and the no-kills in my area were unfortunately full. Municipal shelters in the area that aren't no-kill have something of a 60% kill rate in my area, and I didn't want to condemn these cats to death simply because I don't want them (especially because cats get put down a lot more often than dogs here). I let it go back then since we just had Venus and Deziree and I was in a much better headspace, but with all of the trauma of 2021 and these 2 new cats tormenting the family, it's a far more dire situation to get them out. Covid has helped to clear out space in some of these no-kill shelters, so we're making the rounds again in hopes someone can take them.

I'm not really sure where people got that my husband isn't supporting me (to be fair, his role in this is something that I more or less skimmed over since he's not a source of my stress). So to clear the air:

It's not like he's demanded that we take in these animals. We both came to an agreement to try. The only one who was more of a split second decision was getting the mother and kittens out of that horrible environment. He also fully supports my decision to take the cats to a shelter, and has been one of the ones suggesting it for my own mental health. He's absolutely putting me and the baby first; he just wants me to be happy and healthy and knows that I no longer am with all of the stress piled up. We've talked extensively about this issue and he's supporting me through all the decisions I've been making.

I'm so glad I didn't base my decision to marry him around his family, and that he didn't do the same to me. Goodness knows my own family and literally everyone's family has their problems, and he would've run for the hills when it comes to dealing with my irresponsible brother at one point in time constantly asking us for money and favors or my money-grubbing aunt and uncle (or hell dealing with me and my hefty dose of clinical depression that can sometimes leave me doing absolutely nothing all day and makes it difficult to impossible for me to work). If I was basing my decision to be with someone over their family and not over how they themselves are treating me, I would be alone for a loooooooong time.

He's not at all defensive about his family. He knows they're fuck-ups. I've told him outright that I don't care for his family both before and after marrying him, and he doesn't blame me at all. He doesn't care for them, either. He'd cut ties with his toxic aunt for a while until his grandmother got ill (dementia) recently. And he's got plenty of people in his family that aren't total jerks who I actually like.

But all-in-all, this doesn't really have anything to do with my husband. I'm very lucky to have him and God knows I'd be in and out of the hospital without him. I wouldn't have decided to get pregnant by him if I didn't truly love him and he didn't support me. It's just unfortunate that a mix of B's irresponsibility and my "I gotta do what's morally right while ignoring myself" decisions have come together to create this volatile mindset.

I feel like just typing my story up before going to bed last night helped me. While it was always in the back of my mind, my misguided morality has finally slapped me in the face and reminded me that my life and my house is not a charity. I've always been the type to do whatever it took to help animals in need and now I've shot myself in the foot. I'll be sticking with dogs from now on 😂

 

[CiCi]

Just an update for anyone who was interested: I finally found a home for the newest 2 cats! He's a friend of the family and a really good guy so he'll do his best, and we're all in close contact so if he needs financial help, we can give it to him. Thank goodness. This takes a load off of me.

Still having a lot of negative thoughts and some bad breakdowns but I'm feeling more hopeful now that I know these two will be going to a good home. Finally, my late grandmother's cats can be comfortable. I hope that she's very happy knowing that all her cats are safe :)