Sunday, December 9, 2012
I've been chronically sick for more years than I care to say. I've lived with it for so long that "sick" feels normal to me. I've seen doctors in the past about my ailment, but they always seemed to be withholding information from me. So when I was I forced to enter the hospital last week, I was really surprised how open the doctors were. They said some things that scared me and some things that were encouraging. But now that I'm home, I'm still sick and tired.
I suppose when most people hit their 50's their bodies begin to fall apart.I don't drink, smoke or do drugs and still I'm a wreck. I don't think I have had my midlife crisis yet, but I see the future for myself closing into a point where I will pass through and disappear forever. That point doesn't upset me (at least for now, it doesn't), but the fear of always being sick to the end is quite an distasteful destiny. I don't fear death all that much, but I do fear getting old in a body that's cracking up, slowly but surely degrading and being of less and less use - to myself and the world...
I suppose death in this perspective would be a mercy. I have much to be grateful for, but even if I "get better" physically, my body is still headed for the bone-yard. I've realize like never before, it's going to happen. So let it be known that it is my fervent wish that when I die. that all my friends come over to the funeral home, say a few kind words and gather around my body -- AND BRING ME BACK TO LIFE!
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for failing to support my body effectively.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for not committing myself fully to take care of myself when I knew that there was something wrong.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to worry about death when it's obviously inevitable because it happens to everyone, anyway. So it's not like I'm going to suffer a fate that nobody else will experience. That's just common sense.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to become bummed out by the fact that I'm slowly dying. However, I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for not being concerned about other people slowly dying, so it's pointless to be bummed out about that.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear facing my morality.
I commit myself to continue facing and releasing that fear of mortality, because it could, if I allowed it, to put a damper on what I want to do with the rest of my life. I refuse to do that, in any case. And because it is one of the most pointless of fears - I commit myself to overcoming this idea of fear I have about mortality by applying common sense to the notion, and make sure that my actions from now on will not lead me into shame when that final moment arrives.