There are a few things I wanted to share. I need to share. I know there are people in my life who might listen to it, even care about it. As of this very moment, however, I don't feel like anyone has got my back, or cares. That is why I write here. There are few people who read my blog, participate, even ask questions for me to write about, and I appreciate them very much. Typically, though, not too many people read my blog; it affords me the ability to write "anonymously", have the sensation, or hold to the belief, that someone will read, understand, and empathize with it. Possibly. Well, maybe this will not get a single hit, who knows? It doesn't matter.... this is my healing session.
On Saturday morning, we all set out for the doctor's office to pick up Chandaneswar prabhu's blood report. His liver function and blood sugar were back to normal, so I was very pleased by that news. His cholesterol level was lower, but it was not a very significant drop. Initially, I did not think much of the results, but something did bother me tremendously. Our doctor mentioned that his cholesterol could be genetic, meaning, there is very little in the way of reducing it without medication. Meaning, we're screwed (but I want to say something else). In the car, I kept thinking about it, something was not letting me just shake it, brush it off, sweep it under the rug, or forget about it. I suddenly felt the onslaught of every stress, worry, anxiety, and fear. Just fear. Fear coursed through my body, I was terrified. It suddenly charged my consciousness, and there I felt utterly helpless.
You see, we've been eating right, exercising, taking the right medications. When I say 'we', I mean the entire family. I have been there in solidarity with my husband the entire way. I never let him go the journey alone. I took on all the austerities, diets, exercise regimes myself. We've been battling Chandaneswar prabhu's health issues together for the past eight years. His blood results can fluctuate and vary greatly, even within a three months' span. Over the years, I've learned to manage my stress, and frequently bad news has a way of being deflected off me, because I know it's a roller coaster ride. Certainly, it is some type of feat. I worked really hard to stay the course, regulate our diet, and maintain an exercise routine together. This past month, I pretty much stopped working out because I was losing enough weight from our uber raw, vegan diet. As in, I eat boiled, steamed, or sauteed food occasionally. Rarely do we eat anything fried. I snack a lot, mostly on fruit and nuts. It's insane, but not nearly as insane as the juice fast I did one caturmas.
I finally broke down. I sobbed in the car. It seemed as if all the tears in the world would not satiate my pain. The overwhelming anguish. Everything. I couldn't take it anymore. I was just tired of being strong, supportive, and optimistic. It felt as if all my work was for naught. I had nothing to show for any of it. I have nothing to show for it. I'm tired, exhausted, failing, and want to die. I want to give up. I want to face reality. I don't know what this all means. I just know it's the tip of the iceberg. There is just so much left inside, building up underneath. And there is nobody who will listen.
I still want to die. I still want to leave everything behind.