I got my first trio of pet rats after I got out of the hospital for the first time when I was 17. They kept me going through some of the hardest times in my life, and my one boy lived to be 3, which is very old for a rat. He passed three weeks after I moved into the house I live in now, we had moved around together to four different homes in two years and all of them were either toxic environments or insecure housing. It was like he held on until I was living somewhere safe to pass away.
I had rats constantly from 17-22, at one point I had 14, which was way too much.
But I mean, they kept me busy, I didnt have much time to think about how awful things were with 14 rats to take care of. And there was lots of cuddles and unconditional love any time I wanted it.
After that, I took a break from rats for 3 years, but then last year around this time I was just so depressed. I was spending days at a time not leaving my room and crying, seriously suicidal, and so lonely. I knew that they had helped in the past, so I went and found 3 boys.
The 3 of them are the only thing that keeps me here some days. They stop me from actually leaving this world because I can't imagine anyone else taking care of them. A lot of people think rats are scary or gross, but in my experience they are funny, affectionate, clever little animals. I never have to wonder if my rats love me even when I wonder if anyone else does. Anytime I go to their cage they come right up to me and let me pick them up, they groom my hands and face, snuggle into the crook of my neck, just sit there and let me pet them from nose to tail.
I'm a huge believer in animal therapy. If you have the means and the will to take care of a pet despite your struggles with mental illness, they can absolutely help make life a little brighter.