A little over 2 months ago, my boyfriend had a pet ferret. We had just moved into a new apartment and he was stressed out with work, so all he did when he’d get home is nap, eat, or play video games. His ferret was mentally sick, just from being an albino, a runt, AND from scamps, and because he was unable to care for her, I did. To be completely honest, I didn’t like her one bit. She was mean, she attacked me, she was messy and uncleanly,[she refused to clean herself or use a litterbox] etc. But I took care of her anyway, just until we could make the hour long drive out to a ferret shelter so she could get the special care she needed. Well, one day while he was at work, I was feeding her and cleaning her up and I noticed she was covered in her own feces and urine, so I went to give her a bath. I filled it about 6 inches? Something like that, and proceeded to put her into the water. She was alright at first, but when I reached down to stroke her and get her wet, she attacked me and bit the skin between my index finger and thumb. Anyone would know that a bite there is gonna hurt really effing bad, and I reacted. Unfortunately, my reaction was wrong, as I shoved her under the water and held her there until I realized what I was doing. It hadn’t even been that long, but she was very disoriented and unresponsive. I panicked and pulled her away from the bathtub onto a dry towel on the floor, then gave her the gentlest CPR I could manage. Some water came out of her mouth, she coughed, squeaked, etc., but every time I’d touch her, she’d sort of scream. I felt horrible, and regardless of her screams, continued to give her CPR until I felt I’d done enough. She seemed alright after that, though she was still slow and a tad bit disoriented, but she was moving around, sniffing and exploring a bit. I put her back in her cage and she acted like she wanted inside her hammock, so I lifted her up and put her inside and she burrowed in and that was that. That night my boyfriend and I went to the beach and stayed out till about midnight before coming home and going straight to bed. The next day, while he was at work, I went to check on Leela again, the ferret, and I couldn’t find her. I looked in her burrow hammock and I found her, dead, and already in rigor mortise. I was horrified because I realized that she was dead because of what I did. I cried and cried, then waited for my boyfriend to get home to break the news. I was surprised that I was more emotional and upset than he was, and he ended up comforting me. I didn’t tell him about that tragic bathing accident until about 3 weeks ago. Keeping it inside, that guilt, had begun to eat at me from the inside, and it was killing me. I had two major anxiety/panic attacks from the guilt of it, and one day, I couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore, and I told him. I cried, and hyperventilated, but he forgave me, and told me that it was alright, and that I could let it go now. He told me that he knew she was sick beyond any help and he didn’t expect her to live much longer, whether or not she was at the ferret shelter. It made me feel a little bit better, and a whole lot better as I’d gotten that horrible guilt off my chest, but for some reason, I can’t seem to let it go. I can’t seem to forgive myself, and I don’t know why. My anxiety carries me off into day dreams about what I’ve done, the fact that I’m the reason that something isn’t alive anymore, and it’s so strange, so upsetting. How do I just let go of it and move on with my life?
Opinions