"What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves."
-Milan Kundera
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
First, I couldn't sleep, because I couldn't forget.
Now, I cannot wake up, because I don't want to remember.
I don't know if death is harder for those who die, or for those who have to live with multiple voids.
No sleep for almost a month and a half now because every time I close my eyes I see my brother lying dead in a body bag
Seriously, can someone help me lose this image? I'm exhausted, tired, constantly sobbing and constantly feel the bitter taste of death in my mouth.
As I put my brother in the ambulance, I was able to kiss his forehead & tell him, 'I got you bub' as he rolled his eyes at me and responded with 'I know. Don't be so dramatic.'
Remembering that interaction has pushed me through some truly dark moments after he died.
... it was burdensome, and yet it felt freeing. It's the heaviest kind of freedom I've experienced in life.. Does that imply acceptance? I think not. Just helplessness.
Today as I took my father's and brother's ashes for immersion at the gurdwara by the river, I found myself wishing they'd been buried instead so I could visit, leave stuff at, go sit with and talk to.. but the finality of letting go of all aspects of their physical existence..
Losing my brother and father to Covid in a span of 17 days, I have put my most soft and vulnerable feelings out there into the world, on the socials, and a wordpress.
I am bewildered.
Reactions. Reactions. Reactions.
All of it, and none of it.
I've always been uncomfortable putting my thoughts and opinions out there, and it's always struck people as odd because I have a lot of them but I keep them contained to conversations with people I'm close to.. and now...
Every day in the morning I wake up and groggily put the kettle on and brew 4 cups of tea.
And then I brush my teeth and walk into the kitchen to pour, and that's when it hits me.
And I sink to the floor and weep.
Every morning there's a moment I forget that two of us are gone..
Life in this second wave's destruction of all my safe spaces, the aftermath:
Is it post covid fatigue, grief and loss, anxiety, or a strong urge to avoid nightmares thats keeping me up?
Ooh it's a fun little cocktail with all these ingredients.
In the last 21 days, I have put 3 members of my family of 4 in the hospital.
My younger brother didn't make it.
He turned 28 in the hospital.
Dad was hospitalised 15 mins after brother died, he's now on a ventilator and very critical.
Today I put my mum in the hospital.
1/n
I'm putting this here bcoz the pressure in my chest that won't let me breathe, the combination of anxiety, fear, terror, horror, grief
don't know what else to do as I sit in my apartment alone with echoes of ghostly voices of conversation with the other 3 who aren't here.
Fin.
In the last 21 days, I have put 3 members of my family of 4 in the hospital.
My younger brother didn't make it.
He turned 28 in the hospital.
Dad was hospitalised 15 mins after brother died, he's now on a ventilator and very critical.
Today I put my mum in the hospital.
1/n
So, we all put ourselves in house arrest. Everything was delivered. Sanitised. Crazy amount of precautions. And yet, when it came down to it. He died, I lived.
I don't know about aerosol and viruses. But our entire family caught it when we hadnt left the house in 2 months
3/n
There has to be a BETTER way to find out how the three covid positive people in my family, ONE OF WHICH is very very critical and hospitalised, are doing than to fucking spam call me 55 times a day and tell me to take meds and isolate.
My university email is flooded with inquiries about oxygen, beds, meds. AND pleas for extensions on deadlines for paper submissions.. no response from professors or university admin.
The apathy and the dissonance here is vile.
"People are dead"
"You're not. You submit paper"