On Death and Life

Grampa kitty died. In my bed, under the covers where he chose to be, nestled between my legs, my hand on his little head. I am pretty sure he purred a little. And the he finally gave up the fight. And I am not ashamed to say I cried.

I took him in several months ago, when I saw he was neglected, mistreated, and needed someone to care. He wasn't abused. But he had earned the respect that everything that old should receive, and I wanted to make his last months good ones for him. I am convinced that I fulfilled that, and I believe he knew it. He followed me around right up until the end, when I realized he was ready to lie down and sleep. But he needed me there, because every time I moved, he tried to follow. I finally set him up on my bed, then spent the rest of the night sitting as close to him as possible and letting him know he wasn't alone.

He drooled, and couldn't even get up to pee anymore, so my room literally became an infirmary. But I laid in bed with him, providing warmth, comfort. I rubbed his head, and he enjoyed that. I believe he even purred a little. He died quietly, and he was not alone. vr

I am scared to die. Not because I don't know what happens next......I do know, and I don't believe it's heaven or hell. i believe it is something beyond that; something God will reveal in his own time.

No, what scares me is the utter end of death. No feeling, no thinking, no pain, no laughter, never seeing a sunrise, or a smile, or feeling tears, or falling off a bike, or talking to a friend, or realizing misplaced dreams. Animals are blessed in that they know, at some point life ends for them. Some go quietly. Others fight, horribly. And it would be easier for me to just put them out of sight somewhere so i don't have to be tortured by it. But they crave companionship, too. No one, not even an animal, wants to die alone.

And maybe that is what scares me........dying alone.

Every year I watch the 9/11 shows on history channel, not because I like to relive what happened, but because I believe we should all remember. Over 3000 people died that day. Many more thousands affected by their helplessness to do anything. People ask me why I torture myself, because I always cry. I watch to remind me of my humanity. To remember that there are people dying, not because they want to, but because someone else has chosen for them. Plans, dreams, joys, regrets, all snuffed out and gone in no time flat, when it takes 9 months to create each and every human being.

I know it's the cycle of life, but it certainly isn't natural. We were created to live forever.

I don't believe in heaven in the sense that that is where we go when we die. Heaven is God's realm, from which he runs his government. And I do not believe in any physical hell. Hell is where we are right now. And while loss looms large in my life, just as it does in other' lives, I do believe there is something more yet to come, when God is ready to make it clear.

I don't want to go to heaven. I want to live right here, learning, reading, writing, meeting new people, watching children grow, taking care of pets, testing my limits, trying new things. There is so much to learn, and see, and I cannot imagine having that opportunity cut short.

My heart goes out to those who have a lost a loved one for whatever reason.

My heart also goes out to those who have lost all desire to live, for whatever reason. My heart especially goes out to those who have no choice in the matter.

I want to live. I have so much to learn, to explore and experience.

I am single, and I don't mind, honestly. I don't trust anyone, and so it keeps me from being hurt. But sometimes I wish I had a friend to talk with, to share with, to get feedback for ideas from. Someone who will be honest, and not just tell me whatever I want to hear to keep from upsetting me. Brutal honesty is better than well-intentioned lies.

But life is too short. We keep saying,"ah, I have time, I can do it tomorrow." What if tomorrow doesn't come? Are you happy where you are? Do you know how people feel about you? Have you righted all the wrongs, and loved those who need it? We don't have to be famous. Our legacy lies in who we are right now, in life, and how we treat others.

Don't waste your life on frivolous things. There will  be time for those later.

On death and life

I have been sitting in bed since yesterday, because my cat of 17 years is dying. But he is at peace, and comfortable, and warm, and I am not leaving his side. He crawled in next to me, under the covers, and has been there ever since. It won't be long now. 

I am glad I can provide comfort, but I have to admit, I am tired of being the one to watch things die. Including people. And if I hear one more person whine and cry "poor me" because a grandma died, or someone else, I will scream. I mean, I understand, and I sympathize, but I was the only person in the room with my dad when he died, and I was alone with him afterward for an hour, and I don't run around telling everyone and bawling about it.  

I empathize. I really, really do. But using something like that to get attention?? Get over yourselves. 

Just like I don't use my life to get attention. There are too many people who have had crappy lives...been hurt, abused, used, mistreated, lied to, betrayed......and so many in worse ways than I have. Yeah, the things that happened to me suck. But others have gone through worse. If I can't use what has happened to me to empathize and help someone, then I keep it to myself. I don't use it to get attention, or cry "poor me!"

I don't mean to sound harsh. I am just tired of certain people thinking they are the only one bad things happen to. And then using that as an excuse to do more drugs, or isolate, or attempt suicide, or whatever they do when they are feeling sorry for themselves. And I can say that because I used to be one of those people.

I am actually happy in my life right now. Of course I want to do more, and I am, and will. But I am grateful for every single day I have, no matter how good or bad it is. There is always someone who has had it worse.  

I intend to use my experiences to help others. Otherwise, what's the point to anything?

What Hemingway Knew

I am reading a book called "Coffee with Ernest Hemingway," by Kirk Curnutt, with the Forward by John Updike, and it's an interesting place to start if you want to read a good semi-biography. The premise is a kind of coffee convo between the author and Hemingway himself, in an attempt to give him a voice we all can hear.

So as i am reading this, I am taking note of the literary artists of his time what influenced his writing and development of the craft, so that I can read and learn from them, as well. No, I don't want to write like Hemingway. I don't want to write like Eudora Welty, either, though I accidentally found out that I do have her kind of voice. But all voices are not the same, no matter how similar the nuances. And all voices have an individual story to tell, and many different tools and experiences to bring the writing to life, in their own voice.

The best way to find your voice is to write. And sing. And talk, even when no one is listening. And read........everything..........or at least try to, for how will you know what you don't like if you never look at any of it?

Franz Kafka's 'Metamorphosis' made me cry and I haven't read it since, though I cherish it.

Charlotte Bronte's "Wuthering Heights" is the only love story I will ever read. Oh, and there is a ghost, too!

Tolstoy's "Anna Karenina" intimidated me but by the third chapter I couldn't put it down and I finished it within a week.

Toni Morrison writes about a life I will never know, not by any means possible.........and she tells it with screams and curses and sex and secrets and poor black slaves, and the magic of just moving forward.

Maya Angelou knows why the caged bird sings, even though it longs to be free........it sings because it has a song. A voice.

And so have I.

Beginning

I have been thinking a lot lately about the twists and turns my life has taken thus far. It's interesting to look back and know that if I had made one different choice, in anything, my whole life would be different now. But who's to say that would be a good thing? What if this life is not the worst life I could have had?  


Think about it.....every choice, every decision.......that's the main point, really. Choices. No guns to our heads, no one coercing us (usually). We make a choice to use drugs or not use drugs. Each choice leads down a different path. We choose (usually) if we want kids or not....each also a different path. How many kids? Pets? Vegan, not vegan? Every one of those choices could have changed every aspect of the life I have now, but nothing guarantees that this is the worst I could do. One different decision, and I could be a victim of child abuse. Or I could be a Professor in a private College. 


It amazes me the incredible amount of control we have over our lives, for the most part. Yes, things happen. And it stinks. But we choose how to deal with and react to it, don't we? We can feel sorry for ourselves, or help others. We can become criminals, or advocates. We can commit suicide, or refuse to give up. But under normal circumstances, it is always our choice.


I choose to be a writer. I choose to do whatever it takes to become that writer. I choose to learn from my past, not dwell on it anymore. I choose to go outside at night, instead of hiding in my house. I choose to be happy, and do whatever it takes to make that happen (meds, hobbies, relationships, etc). I choose to be kind and generous, but I also choose not to let people use me anymore. I choose to stop trying to impress guys to get them to like me. I choose to be me from now on. I choose to have fun, and laugh, and enjoy the little things, even if others look at me funny. I wonder where this path will take me??  I am excited to find out!!!!!!!


What do you choose??

Need ReSPONSES

I knew it. I knew it knew it knew it.   All my life I have known nothing but shitty guys who played games, used me, abused, me....you name it- they did it. So i meet this 'nerd' when I buy my new laptop...and he's kinda cute, and we flirt a little, and next thing you know I have been seeing him for a month!!! Like, almost every night. And he's awesome, and wonderful, and almost too good to be true, and I am afraid to trust again as I have been 'here' before....and finally I begin to crumble...............................................and THEN I find out he's a pervert. A real 'seen every porno ever made everywhere from gay porn to transsexual porn to...well........yeah.' So WTF do I do???? He doesn't Do this stuff. I don't think. He doesn't watch teen porn or snuff films. i think.  He doesn't do anything freaky in bed. At least, not yet. And I don't know if it all turns him on, or if he just watches to watch.

Is this a red flag? Or is this normal?

Go ask Alice....

She told herself it was only temporary. This sadness would go away. She was smarter now, and more educated about mental illness and medications and home remedies. She actually made good decisions, sometimes, which helped increase her confidence. And yet, it seemed so unreal to be feeling this way...this sure, and comforted, and hopeful. It was like dreaming, though of course no dream she had ever had- hers left her feeling scared and disoriented when she woke up. They haunted her throughout the day and made her feel the need to shower and try to erase it.

She had to wonder if this was actually really happening, or if she were stuck again in some otherworld that this time decided to torture her in a whole new way.

It happens like this.........everything seems bluer, greener, fresher, and you marvel at the design in everything, from hummingbirds to beautiful, old homes. Then you wake up one day, and something feels a little off, like a picture hanging slightly crooked. The spiral begins. Within four days, you will become a lesser version of yourself, ashamed, self-loathing, and cutting your body to punish the soul. And the cycle goes on, and on, and on........

So..........a friend did something important for me when I didn't have the money, because I promised I would have the money the next day. Except the person who promised the money to me, didn't give it to me. So now my friend has to pay someone else back because of me, and they think it's her fault. AAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!   How do I fix this???? I feel so terrible, like I betrayed my friend, when I would seriously give a kidney without anesthetics in order to make this right. How the hell did I let this happen??

I am finding someone who can specifically design a bra that fits ME. I am so tired of having to waste time trying them on, which is gross if you think about the other people who have done the same thing, only to find that ONE specific size does not fit me; it depends on maker and style, as well. I am 5 feet tall with a size 36 D or something for bra size. I am short, and little, and the biggest thing I own are my boobs, and every single freakin bra I buy eventually sags to my knees because my back is skinny and short and either the cups let my boobs fall all over the place, or I quickly lose the plump and perky look they have when I first buy a halfway decent bra. I mean, who designs these? Men? Because I would hope that a woman would better understand the complexities of boobage. And my back and shoulders hurt.......aaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!

So.....if anyone else has this problem, let me know, and let me know if you have any little secrets that might help. I will forever love you. Seriously.

All I want to do is post to my blog, and after miraculously remembering the password after a year, I have to deal with a new interface and linkage and some crap and I just woke up and I'm high as FUCK! lol.....I just want to type this out.....lol. So frustrating!

So.....I forgot what I was gonna blog about....lol. Anyway, I think it's time to change up my approach to writing. Hang on everybody....it's gonna be a fun ride!!