Please, before you read any further, understand that I do not mean this in any morbid sort of way...
I've always said- and meant- that it isn't death that I'm afraid of, but rather, by what means I'll die. Obviously some forms of death are preferable to others. I believe that what comes after will be peaceful and beautiful, and refreshing. There is no fear.
Lately, though, I've begun to feel a shift.
Sometimes when I get that fluttering in my neck, or that hitch in my breathing, it occurs to me that one way or another, I will die; that's a fact. And, for the first time, this troubles me. It doesn't frighten me, just troubles me.
This, I think, is a good thing.
I've spent so much of my life hurting and angry, depressed to the point of becoming suicidal. Of course I had no attachment to life; I wanted to be rid of it. This held true after I got sober, after I was diagnosed with and began treatment for bipolar disorder. It didn't help, naturally, that I didn't take my medication properly, if at all, for the first couple of years after being diagnosed. Shortly after that I was injured, lost my job, my father, a grandmother, an uncle and my dog. To say I was depressed- despite taking my medication properly- would be an understatement. I sank into isolation and the funkiest of funks, and I dwelled there for a couple of years, an emotional zombie.
Over the past couple of years, however, I've felt myself re-entering life in a way that I never had before. The pain and the anger I've lived with have been reduced to echoes: there, but distant and fading. Instead of wanting to throw away my life, or feeling apathetic about its course, I am now an active participant, if at times a little hesitant or timid. I've opened myself up to others in ways I never could have before; I've been learning to let people in.
It is for these reasons that the notion of my death has become vaguely troubling, and why the fact that I'm troubled is a good thing. It illustrates for me just how much I've reconnected with my life, and the people in it.
I still don't fear death, but I no longer welcome it.
I've always said- and meant- that it isn't death that I'm afraid of, but rather, by what means I'll die. Obviously some forms of death are preferable to others. I believe that what comes after will be peaceful and beautiful, and refreshing. There is no fear.
Lately, though, I've begun to feel a shift.
Sometimes when I get that fluttering in my neck, or that hitch in my breathing, it occurs to me that one way or another, I will die; that's a fact. And, for the first time, this troubles me. It doesn't frighten me, just troubles me.
This, I think, is a good thing.
I've spent so much of my life hurting and angry, depressed to the point of becoming suicidal. Of course I had no attachment to life; I wanted to be rid of it. This held true after I got sober, after I was diagnosed with and began treatment for bipolar disorder. It didn't help, naturally, that I didn't take my medication properly, if at all, for the first couple of years after being diagnosed. Shortly after that I was injured, lost my job, my father, a grandmother, an uncle and my dog. To say I was depressed- despite taking my medication properly- would be an understatement. I sank into isolation and the funkiest of funks, and I dwelled there for a couple of years, an emotional zombie.
Over the past couple of years, however, I've felt myself re-entering life in a way that I never had before. The pain and the anger I've lived with have been reduced to echoes: there, but distant and fading. Instead of wanting to throw away my life, or feeling apathetic about its course, I am now an active participant, if at times a little hesitant or timid. I've opened myself up to others in ways I never could have before; I've been learning to let people in.
It is for these reasons that the notion of my death has become vaguely troubling, and why the fact that I'm troubled is a good thing. It illustrates for me just how much I've reconnected with my life, and the people in it.
I still don't fear death, but I no longer welcome it.


As the cliche goes, you've come a long way, baby!
(((Aravis)))
(hugs)
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