My life with my dogs and mental illness

Hello, my name is Cassandrea Geesling. I wish to warn you that this may trigger some emotion. If you or a love one are having problems please call the suicide hotline or 911.

Before I go into my dog, Chaka, who saved my life more than once, I have to tell you how she saves me. But don't worry I'll have another dog on here but that is later in this.

I grew up with animals. We had cats, dogs, rabbits, and chickens. I've loved the animals in fact I think we got all the animals from my late great grandma's house who also raises chickens and geese. (No, my last name has nothing to do with the animal. It actually means in ghost in German).

Now the juicy part. My life. I've never had any friends except these "friends". My mom would drink alcohol and get drunk and abuse me. After she hit me, which is where part of my post traumatic stress disorder ( or also known as PTSD), I would talk to my "friends" and they always help me feel better about myself. You could even say they were my best friends. My older brother would rarely get hit because of him hanging out with his friends. So I was mainly the target.

As time went by I was in school. I would tell people who my friends are and they just gave me weird looks and walk away. The same with my teachers. Same look and walk away. I was never going to fit in with the rest of my classmates.

Then I went to 3rd grade I guess I'd talk to myself still and one of my classmates told my teacher and she called the whole class and said that "We have have these friends that comes from our imagination." Didn't help with the bulling though. Yes, I was bullied. Later in my life I just learned to keep my mouth shut.

Fast forward. I was I think 9 or 10 when I got my very first dog named Chloe. She was a full black lab. My mom and I went to Walmart and saw a farmer who was giving away dogs. I ask my mom if I could have one and she said yes. So I went to the farmer and he told me to stick my hand on the back of the truck. She chose me. So I ended with a cute, funny, black lab. I was taking my fur mom very seriously. Now I know this part wasn't supposed to be my job, with me not even old enough to work, I would buy food with my money that my mom would give me. Later, as in age 15 later, Chloe gave birth to puppies. More than half of the litter was taken to a good home. the other 3 puppies we kept. Still not old enough to get a job I still paid for their food while buying books to pass the summer. Then my mom and I got in a fight so I decided to move in with my dad and step mom. Then one day my mom was rushing me to go to the mall. Why? I didn't know until later. 3 weeks before I move my I called for my dogs to come so I can spend as much time as I can before I move. Only 2 came Chloe's puppies. My mom told me that Chloe and one of her puppies ran a way. I was heart broken. A couple days later I went out side to say hi to my remaining dogs and my uncle came to my place and he was dragging Chloe's lifeless body asking what to do with it. He called her an IT! Her eyes still opened gun shot wounds on her head. I ran up to her and started crying, putting my body on top of hers. Then I ran inside and cried as much as I can. Her puppies ran to her and whined and licking her trying to wake her up. It's really hard to write this even right now. I'll never forgive my family for that.

Fast forward. I just turned 16 when I moved in with my dad and step mom. They also had dogs. Both named after musicians Woody from Woody Guthrie and Skydog from one of the Allman brothers. They were't mine but I still treat them with the same respect as I did with my dogs. One time, I tried to commit suicide and the dogs were really antsy. For a good reason. My step mom found me passed out with knife in hand and cuts on my neck. They were good dogs, always there for me.

At age 17 I moved to a private school. The teachers were nice and my history teacher had a therapy dog name Gorge. Gorge was a happy dog. He was old but still loved coming to my school until the very end. He passed away humanly. He was old and he was in pain so what is there to do in order to help him feel no more pain? It was sad but he's in a better place.

Now fast forward. age 24. I moved back into my parents house after I graduated high school. I was 18 when I graduated. That's when I got my own dog again. Chaka. Like Skydog and Woody and our new alive dog named Coltrane, named after a jazz player John Coltrane, I named Chaka from Chaka Khan. Not really a big fan of her but I like the name. So I now she is Chaka. She's my emotional support animal. Now if I want to I can take her with me on the plane. I have the paper work and everything. She's my everything. And, like Chloe, I'll give up my life for her.

Thank you for reading my story. Sorry if it was triggering. Like I said above, if you or someone you know are dealing with this please call the suicide hotline or 911. And please tell them that they are not and never will be alone.