The Fall
Each day wears me down until I can hardly desire to think. And yet, I try, so hard, to digest life.
The dogs aren’t going to stick around much longer and I need to prepare myself for the inevitable, the possibility that we will have to actually choose when they will go. They have been my sisters, the only sisters I have ever had, the only siblings I have ever had, the only stable and steady friends I have ever had. Sometimes I feel guilty — I have been so far away from both of them for so long. And I find myself, unexpectedly, returning to the desire to be in two places at once, the familiar feeling of my childhood, of growing up between two households. And then I find myself suffering from the deep, intense, indescribable fear of knowing that, eventually, inevitably, I will lose them all — my parents and my sisters.
Sometimes I feel so much fear and anxiety and sadness. I start to think, hesitantly, perhaps I do need something to help me just get through it all. But I’m stronger than that and I know it is best to feel, no matter how difficult it is.
I guess that is why I enjoy being busy — less time to think. Because the minute I step outside to get some space and break up my day, it gets difficult to bear the quiet, the lull. It is then that I really think. And I suffer. And I cry.
No matter what I convince myself, death is probably the thing I fear most. Not mine, but the death of those I love.
An excerpt from my personal journal.
11 responses so far
I have felt this way about death my whole life. I used to fear dying more than other people in my life dying, but now it’s the opposite.
Au fond, being afraid of death seems like the most intelligent response to that ridiculous phenomenon. Anyway it’s *my* response. “I wouldn’t mind dying, if only I could be sure I wouldn’t wind up dead at the end of it.” (Bad paraphrase of Woody Allen.)
And, how can I refrain from commenting–that choosing “something” to help one get through it all? Doesn’t (DOES. NOT.) mean one isn’t strong. Quite the opposite, sometimes; as of course you know.
October hugs to you!
This is exactly how I was feeling last night. I don’t know why but every once in a while, the realization that everyone close to me will die really hits me. Of course, it is a known fact but really thinking about it is terrifying.
It’s normal to fear death because it is a loss to you. I have suffered the loss of my dog agatha christie, she was 15 when she died. I’d grown up with her, I was a junior in high school. We extended her life through medication, but it was the wrong choice, she had a more unpleasant death I think than she would have had had we been strong enough to make the other choice. It was out pain we choose the longer route for her.
When my grandmother died unexpectedly a week after I returned from a trip to Chile with her I experienced the hardest time of my life. She was my soul-mate really. The loss is painful sometimes so much that one hardly thinks it worth it to exist. However I believe that the pain was good for me. I got through it, sort of bathed in the pain and then figured my grandmother and my dog were both saying get on with it you silly fool.
I don’t fear the loss of people any longer, not because I don’t expect it to be painful, but because I now view it as part of life, a painful part, but it can be dealt with.
If you fear loss too much it then prevents you from forming relationships for fear of loss.
My thoughts are with you in any way you choose to deal with it. Busy is always good though.
Sometimes we think so much the thinking itself is almost painful.
Felicia, Same here. I remember being afraid of my own death for quite some time and now, suddenly, I realize it has become the opposite. Perhaps just a product of maturity?
UN, Yes. A good, important reminder for kids like me. Some influential adults (perhaps, could it have been, my own parents!? ::gasp::) somehow taught me that choosing “something” to help = weakness. I’m obviously still relearning.
e., Seems to be common around this time of year. Something about the change in seasons leads us all to ponder death. Even though we should really be simply appreciating the beauty of the fall, rather than the fear behind it all.
cooper, Ironically, I was in Chile for a year expecting my own grandmother to die any minute. She hung on for quite some time after I returned. You’re right…it is the painful part of life, death and thinking.
I’ve definitely been contemplating the same themes recently. My number one fear is losing my mom before I’m ready (and I know I’ll never be “ready,” more like losing her tragically before I’ve really become an “adult”). But now, I also worry about my own death.
Unfortunately it’s normally at night, in bed, when I’m alone.
I freak myself out so much I have to contemplate kittens, rainbows, and shoes before I feel good enough to sleep.
Humans fear the unknown and death is THE big unknown. To deal with this we make up stories. Hence the religious belief of an “afterlife.”
I used to feel this way as well, until I was told to read this book, Loving What is by Byron Katie. A friend told me about it and it really helped me through a lot. I still have a fear about my father, but I know when it happens, I will be sad, but get through it. Maybe it will help you too?
i really like how this was written, really fluid and excellent.
(p.s. i knowww i WISH is had more time to read all day like i used to
i’m picking twittering back up because it’s kind of like blogging on the go haha)
Isn’t it strange how we keep ourselves busy in order to reduce the ambiguity and unknowns of dissociated thought from piercing our simplistic idea of the world?
Shaba, My mother and I were experiencing a kind of feud this past year and I became increasingly afraid that I would lose her without having the opportunity to make amends. I completely understand what you’re saying. She has struggled so much with losing her own mother and they didn’t even get along! I know I will fall to pieces when I lose her. Definitely one of my biggest fears.
Andrea, I will definitely check out the book! Thanks for the recommendation.
margottobed, Thanks for the compliment! And welcome back to the world of comments, busy-bee.
[F]oxy, SO true. And well said.
Beautiful though sad words.
To me, everything changes so much when you experience the first death of a loved one. Things that slid off me before suddenly stuck in my brain, like very real possibilities… the most tragic of scenarios I would feel the need to rehearse, because they suddenly seemed more real.