|Piper, just one of many dogs I have loved.|
I officially have quit (theres that word again) Rescue.
No drama. Nothing horrible happened. Except that I don't care enough anymore. I don't have it in myself to pour my heart into "the job." It is time. Rescue exhausts me. Emotionally. Mentally.
It's one of those things that you either need to be "all in" or not at all. That is evident by the inability to keep (or get) good volunteers. It is hard to balance life and rescue. Not many can do it. I did it for a long time. I've been involved in rescue for 8 years or so. Starting one, and then walking away from it when personal, ethical differences made it impossible to stay. And then starting this one a few years ago with a few like minded friends.
This decision did not come lightly. It is not one of those things that is easy to decide. Lots of factors play a role.
I will be the first to admit I am a control freak. Rescue doesn't really work with that. I can't be in control each step, and yet I feel that it is my job to ensure that each step is done properly. Letting go, and delegating have never been my thing. Because even when it isn't my job, I still take responsibility for it. I feel full responsibility for each and every dog that I intake into our system. From the time they get dropped off, to the time they are adopted and everything in between. So when something goes wrong it feels as though it is a personal failure. Even if it really has nothing to do with me. Combine that exhausting mentality with the people. I have never been a people person. And I am at the point where dealing with the people makes me angry and frustrated.
|a baby Neena....|
The guilt is almost as bad as the decision itself. I feel tremendous guilt. The guilt of walking away from the people that started this rescue with me. Leaving a few also-nearing-the-edge-of-burnout people to deal with even more crap. It's probably the worst part at this point. Giving up is hard.
The guilt of giving up on a cause that I used to fight for. The guilt of not being able to help. There are SO MANY dogs that need help. Good dogs. Dogs that may slip through the cracks... It is tough. A hard decision. I think of all the dogs I've helped, and loved. All the work the WCCR has done. It is astounding that such a small group of dedicated people can do that. I am sad to not be a part of that anymore. But it is for the best.
Along with the guilt comes relief. Relief that it is not my worry anymore. But that same feeling just makes me feel worse. :(
I will still help out when I can, on a much smaller scale. I don't want to get the emails, the phone calls, and the heartache. I want to be like everyone else, and just pretend that someone else will fix the problem. I will always take the hardluck cases as long as I have the space and time. Leo will stay with me until he is ready to find a home. He is getting there...slowly.
The decision has been weighing on my mind, and my heart for months. But my own mental health and happiness needs to take a front seat. For once. And so life will go on. No one is irreplaceable. The rescue work will continue. Without me. I will hopefully be able to move on from the guilt. And work on building back the person I am.