(no subject)

[cybermule]

Well, today has been strange. My dad died a year ago, so that just seems to have put an odd spin on the day. Just as a point to note, this time last year, as far as I was concerned, he was still alive. I don't find out yet for another four days.

I seem to have handled it just fine, especially after giving myself a good psychological kick in the backside over the weekend. I think I did all my going to pieces last week. By Friday, I felt like a truck that had shed all its bits along the hard shoulder. You know when you see those massive strips of tyre on the side of the motorway, and you wonder what the fuck happened to the truck? Kind of like that.

The question that is going through my head is whether you really truly accept death at all? Do you lose someone, then spend the rest of your life secretly not being at all surprised if it turned out to have been a mistake? The tales that you think up seem less and less plausible as time goes by, but I'm wondering if you ever really know in your heart that they are gone.

Maybe the feeling is just me. I'm not looking for reassurance or comfort with that, I just sometimes wonder. To me, death is the big dark ugly kernel of reality that I mostly choose to ignore - I won't stare it in the eye. I'm not afraid of it, I just can't accept that the person is gone. Despite being an overly-fearful child, I guess I just never really thought about it, to be honest. Religious and spiritual things never really troubled me over-much, I barely even thought, in the way I would now describe thinking, until about 5 years ago.

Then suddenly it slammed me in the face, my own mortality by generational proxy, the fact that I could be dead in 20 years. Doesn't seem so long. And I was ill-prepared to cope with it on a personally relevant level. It had always happened to someone else.

I haven't really got any answers here, but I have spent the year noticing, for the first time, that I really have a lot of questions.

Comments

[cybermule.livejournal.com]

That would suck.

I should clarify - everyone else knew, but I'd gone AWOL for 15 months and nobody could find me :( I still feel pretty crap about that to be honest, but I tell myself that it was sudden, and I'd probably be feeling crap anyway.

So I'd say yes you eventually accept death, but you never get over it.

Maybe. unsane1 made a very relevant point to me - the fact that 1% of him always believes that this isn't really reality. And I kind of agree with him on that one, so I think maybe a small percent of my brain never really accepts anything. Plus I have this huge compulsion to make everything right - if I just put in enough effort, I can fix *anything*. I know that's setting myself up for disappointment, but I can't help it.

I've never really been afraid of my own death.

Ditto.

I know, I'm weird...

Not really - in my opinion, that's refreshingly sane. It's one of the few things I actually *know* is worth doing.

[unsane1.livejournal.com]

> > I've never really been afraid of my own death.
>
> Ditto.


I can understand fyatuk feeling that way, but you are much more similar to me, so I ask, how do you do it?

[cybermule.livejournal.com]

Hmm. I would say that part of it is just arrogance,, kind of stuffing my fingers in my ears and ignoring the fact that I'm mortal. Also, mortality seems a long way away for me - maybe if it came to the crunch, I would be scared. But some part of me really doesn't fear not existing any more. I'm over the part of my life where it actually seems like a pleasant option, but I just think I'll end and not be conscious that that has happened. Maybe it's just that I haven't really come to terms with what death means to me.

You could turn it around, you know, and ask why you do fear death?