As I sit here if feel it in every single joint in my feet. I don't think people realize just how many joints are actually in their feet until they've felt what I feel. My ankles and knees are borderline, my hips okay. My spine and shoulders not so great today and then you come to my elbows, wrists and hands. Needless to say I AM typing. I keep thinking if I just keep them moving they won't freeze up on me.
My journey with raw food has been rocky ever since moving to Texas. Who knew it would be easier to be raw in Western Nebraska than East Texas?! I thought I was back on track. I was starting to focus again on healing myself, of putting myself first again, of making myself healthy enough to live a long life for not only myself but for my family. And then Sierra's tragic death hit me like a wall.
Most people, hell, 99% of you reading this won't understand me. You won't understand how I can be so devastated by the death of "just a horse".
In my life I've grieved over the loss of grandparents, aunts and uncles and even a few friends. Yet, surprisingly, Sierra's death has hit me harder than I can describe in words. How can I describe my feelings to you?
I picked Sierra out from over 100 other horses when she was just barely 4 months old. She should have gone back to her mom for a few more months but I took her home... and became her mother. She followed me everywhere. I spoiled her. I sang to her the same songs I sang to boys when they were babies. I cared for her like no other horse I've ever had -and I've had a few (more than 35 in my lifetime).
I am the proud mom of three beautiful and amazing boys. As much as I love them and would give my life for any of them... I still always wanted another child, a girl. A daughter to be my friend forever unlike my testosterone infused man/boys. I didn't plan on Sierra, a "mere" horse, to become my daughter but somewhere over the past 6 six years, she did.
I whispered things in her ear that no person has ever heard. I knew her and she knew me. I loved her even though she wasn't the greatest mom. I loved her even when I had to tie her to the fence and force her to nurse her filly. I loved her even when she 'grumpled' about being ridden. I loved her and accepted her and in accepting her as she was I learned to accept my faults.
Her death was shocking to me. It still is. I had to take her picture off my iphone because every time I saw her picture I'd cry.
I always wondered why people brought food to the families of people who have passed. I used to think if it was me I wouldn't want to eat, I'd somehow be to miserable to eat. I was wrong. All I want to do is fill that hole inside me. My rawness was on shaky ground before Sierra passed away. Now, it's hardly recognizable. Oh, I'm still vegetarian; no eggs, no meat. Warm pastas and breads however, I've found fill that gaping hole - at least for an hour or so.
I've gained 9 lbs in the week and a half since she died. The scary thing is that I didn't care. Until Saturday that is.
Saturday we went to our friends ranch where we took Sierra when she got sick (with all the rain and the 3 days she needed round the clock medical care, we couldn't do it at our ranch). We went to see Sierra's grave and to help worm some of their horses. All the walking, moving, working with horses made me see very clearly, very quickly, that the RA is back and it's gaining on me-fast.
I need to go back to being 100% raw again. I know this, without a doubt. Yet I'm still hurting in my heart so much that I don't really care. I can see how sad I am. I recognize I need to bring myself out of this... yet my heart just isn't ready. I'm trying though. I bought tons of veggies to start juicing again. I even bought dandelion. Yet this morning I just made a cacao smoothie and now for lunch I'm not eating. Tonight when I get home I'll try to juice and eat a salad. Hopefully I won't eat something I shouldn't. But the pain inside me is still there and I don't see it leaving anytime soon.