It can’t rain all the time…

17 May

Do you fear death?

I mean that animal gasping in your chest, screaming I WANT TO LIVE!

I do. Oddly enough, when the worst of the suicide storm passes, I feel this need to hold on to whatever mortal things I can, and hope. Hope that death isn’t soon. Hope that I face it well when it does come.

Hope, and a sprinkling of curiosity.

For years I didn’t fear death. I wanted to see it, to finally know (or not know) what, if anything, is out there. The romantic part of me wants to go to some heaven, or an alternate dimension, a new life even. The rational self tells me there is nothing. That death is an end to itself, and this, this moment, these minutes and days and years, are all I have.

As I get older, and I notice new drooping folds on my face, I’m beginning to understand what drives someone to believe in something more than them. It’s scary! To look forward and come to grips with the fact that I will never see someone I love ever again is terrifying. It’s so much more real than half the crap in my life. It’s vivid.

I don’t want to die. Truly, I do not. I enjoy my life when I’m “normal”-I want to be there for my family. I want to be. But I’m discovering that my urge to leave a legacy isn’t that strong. There are people with a strong urge to do things, found agencies, discover planets or cures. I just want to love my family. At this point, there’s little point in aspiring for anything more anyway. I want to have the one thing that I can never seem to find. Happiness.

That is what I want as a legacy. To be happy and content and able to meet death head on, regardless of what she’s wearing. To harbour no doubts that I treated them well. That I was a good mother, a wonderful partner. I want peace in my life, so I can one day, not be scared.

6 Responses to “It can’t rain all the time…”

  1. crazytired May 17, 2007 at 4:49 pm #

    Wow. Well said. And I totally agree.

  2. heidi May 17, 2007 at 5:12 pm #

    I never really think hard about my own death. I imagine the deaths of my loved ones in horrific high resolution saturated color minute detail 1,000 times a day. I have invented one million ways that Molly could die instantly because I took my attention off her for a split second. I’ve killed Bu off in my brain a zillion times because I flipped him the bird after he left the house pissy and my anger caused his fiery car crash death.

    When I do sometime imagine my death it’s weird the mundane details that I wonder about. Who’ll call work for me? Will Bu out of guilt raise Molly vegetarian like I want to? Stupid shit like that. I’m far too worried about everyone else- the honeybees for Gods’ sake- and my own death isn’t a big deal. It’s weird because you’d think I’d be worried about inheriting my mom’s cancer or dying young but I have totally turned the anxiety outward.

  3. heidi May 17, 2007 at 5:13 pm #

    I love the Tori pain lyrics and the Jane Siberry rain lyrics. Pain, rain. Pretty.

  4. Netter May 17, 2007 at 8:41 pm #

    I think suicidal ideation for depressives isn’t about dying, it’s about just ending the pain, the nothingness. Love, family, happiness, that’s all there is.

  5. missy May 18, 2007 at 9:01 am #

    I like this. Well said.

    Also, I think Netter makes a good point.

  6. ann adams May 18, 2007 at 9:23 am #

    Loving your family is a legacy.

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