On the way into work I saw a dead cat lying in the middle of the road. The wind was blowing its fur and snow was beginning to accumulate on it. It was really kind of sad. Then I realized that the cat didn’t care. The cat didn’t feel anything. Its life was gone. Its body can’t feel anything anymore.
I think people believe in God, reincarnation and an afterlife because they are afraid of death. It is too hard to accept that once we die there is nothing more. There is no reward for being “good”. There is no punishment for being “bad”. There is no everlasting life that is free of mental and physical pain. There is no utopia where we shed our broken down bodies and exist as an ethereal light of consciousness. There is no unconditional love and comfort that envelopes us. I believe when we die there is nothing. We don’t care that there is nothing because we cease to be aware of everything.
Maybe this is why I have such a hard time working up the courage to die. I don’t believe that I will go to a better place or even feel relief. I would just cease to be. That is different than feeling better. Dead can’t be felt.
I almost drove myself to the hospital last night, as well as the night before, actually. Then I thought; what will they do for me? Will they give me meds?? I have a few Xanax and a bottle of wine so I don’t need their meds. Would they just watch me for a few hours and then send me home? Hell…I might as well stay home and drink wine. I want to live but I want to die. I’m a fat middle aged woman. I have no value. I am alone. It is just me. I have no one to take up the slack. I don’t have anyone to help me. I’m tired emotionally. I’m too old to have a do over.
I can’t tell my friends how I really feel. They would tell me all the reasons I have to live and I don’t need to hear that shit. They would tell me that others are worse off. That always makes me feel worse. It is like calling me a whiner. They mean well but it doesn’t help. I don’t want to worry them. The only person I tell is tdoc. It is safe to tell him. He doesn’t try to save me. He doesn’t panic. He knows I am chicken. He knows I am not trying to manipulate him or get attention or make him feel bad (at least I hope he does)
I think people believe in God, reincarnation and an afterlife because they are afraid of death. It is too hard to accept that once we die there is nothing more. There is no reward for being “good”. There is no punishment for being “bad”. There is no everlasting life that is free of mental and physical pain. There is no utopia where we shed our broken down bodies and exist as an ethereal light of consciousness. There is no unconditional love and comfort that envelopes us. I believe when we die there is nothing. We don’t care that there is nothing because we cease to be aware of everything.
Maybe this is why I have such a hard time working up the courage to die. I don’t believe that I will go to a better place or even feel relief. I would just cease to be. That is different than feeling better. Dead can’t be felt.
I almost drove myself to the hospital last night, as well as the night before, actually. Then I thought; what will they do for me? Will they give me meds?? I have a few Xanax and a bottle of wine so I don’t need their meds. Would they just watch me for a few hours and then send me home? Hell…I might as well stay home and drink wine. I want to live but I want to die. I’m a fat middle aged woman. I have no value. I am alone. It is just me. I have no one to take up the slack. I don’t have anyone to help me. I’m tired emotionally. I’m too old to have a do over.
I can’t tell my friends how I really feel. They would tell me all the reasons I have to live and I don’t need to hear that shit. They would tell me that others are worse off. That always makes me feel worse. It is like calling me a whiner. They mean well but it doesn’t help. I don’t want to worry them. The only person I tell is tdoc. It is safe to tell him. He doesn’t try to save me. He doesn’t panic. He knows I am chicken. He knows I am not trying to manipulate him or get attention or make him feel bad (at least I hope he does)
Replies
Sorry you feel so dreadful.
Once I was driving home from therapy and for a moment I felt so delighted with myself. I felt fascinated by myself and just super delighted to be me. It passed in a few moments but I always remember that feeling. It was so great. I didn\'t need anyone or anything in my life to feel good - just being me was utterly satisfying and awesome. I believe that feeling lies at the end of the healing path.
I had just read the therapy group some writing of mine, sharing some very shameful stuff that was completely out of character for my day to day self. And I feel like that unusual sharing opened up a more complete self and gave a sneak preview of what wholeness feels like. I\'m kind of counting on that!
donnawanda,
I don\'t know what happens when we die. All the things I hear about an afterlife,ethereal light of consciousness, etc., are possibilities...but, I don\'t really know. Maybe they\'re true and maybe they\'re not...I don\'t really know. And I don\'t know if that dead cat cared or not. I don\'t really know what happens when we die.
Some people have near-death experiences and return to tell us about them, but even that...I don\'t know for sure.
All I know for sure is that I am here now. And some days I\'m glad and some days I\'m not. I also know I refuse to let those predators dictate my life.
I have survived and will move beyond surviving.
Breathe.
xx