sae
05-18-2015, 12:37 AM
... the fear of death. This may not be a post for the death squeamish. I had a hell of a time writing these thoughts down.
While I can scarcely jump up and down, claiming I am all cured, I am slowly creeping out of the endless cycle of anxiety and depression. I am getting out a little more, and spend less time locked up in fear. There is one thought process that seems to never fail to gum up the works:
It usually starts with thinking about my late husband, pondering his final decision. With one either very stupid or very selfish decision he left so much undone. From little things like caring for his dog, or paying the mortgage, to big things like seeing his daughter graduate from school, marry, have her own family. His death was just so... final.
Even though I did not choose to almost die, I just barely failed where he succeeded. I think back to that final moment of clarity floating within blind, silent semi-consciouness when I knew I was going to die. At that moment I went through every emotion in a split second, fear, sadness, acceptance. The last thing I thought were the words "so much undone."
The only person in the room when I awoke was the pastor from my church. I remember very little of the visit other than the crunching sound/sensation in my chest of the heart pump and repeating the words "so much left undone" over and over again until I fell back to sleep.
It plays on my mind. I have responsibilities as a mother, a daughter, a person that no one else could fulfill if I were gone. I lie down at night, almost asleep, and the prospect of not waking up the next day, leaving so much unfinished business jolts me awake. There is still so much I have left to do, to experience, I want to see, and in an instant my douchebag heart could end it all. Logically I know there is a much better chance of waking up alive. Each day my heart hurts less, my breath comes just a little easier, but with each passing night I feel the heaviness of fatigue, of being alive, and wonder how many more times this douchebag heart will keep beating in spite of all the procedures, medications, and stents.
I think a little fear of death is healthy, but I dont want to be constantly reminded of the prospect of dying, that one day I WILL die, and no matter how.much time I have or don't have, I will still have so much left undone.
How does one combat the fear of death beyond simple acceptance? I can accept the reality of death, just not the idea of leaving before my responsibilities are fulfilled.
While I can scarcely jump up and down, claiming I am all cured, I am slowly creeping out of the endless cycle of anxiety and depression. I am getting out a little more, and spend less time locked up in fear. There is one thought process that seems to never fail to gum up the works:
It usually starts with thinking about my late husband, pondering his final decision. With one either very stupid or very selfish decision he left so much undone. From little things like caring for his dog, or paying the mortgage, to big things like seeing his daughter graduate from school, marry, have her own family. His death was just so... final.
Even though I did not choose to almost die, I just barely failed where he succeeded. I think back to that final moment of clarity floating within blind, silent semi-consciouness when I knew I was going to die. At that moment I went through every emotion in a split second, fear, sadness, acceptance. The last thing I thought were the words "so much undone."
The only person in the room when I awoke was the pastor from my church. I remember very little of the visit other than the crunching sound/sensation in my chest of the heart pump and repeating the words "so much left undone" over and over again until I fell back to sleep.
It plays on my mind. I have responsibilities as a mother, a daughter, a person that no one else could fulfill if I were gone. I lie down at night, almost asleep, and the prospect of not waking up the next day, leaving so much unfinished business jolts me awake. There is still so much I have left to do, to experience, I want to see, and in an instant my douchebag heart could end it all. Logically I know there is a much better chance of waking up alive. Each day my heart hurts less, my breath comes just a little easier, but with each passing night I feel the heaviness of fatigue, of being alive, and wonder how many more times this douchebag heart will keep beating in spite of all the procedures, medications, and stents.
I think a little fear of death is healthy, but I dont want to be constantly reminded of the prospect of dying, that one day I WILL die, and no matter how.much time I have or don't have, I will still have so much left undone.
How does one combat the fear of death beyond simple acceptance? I can accept the reality of death, just not the idea of leaving before my responsibilities are fulfilled.