I have an interesting relationship with death. Being diagnosed with a terminal cancer at the age of 16 can do really weird things to a persons concepts of life and death. The weird thing is, I do not consider myself afraid of death, at least not comparatively to the norm in my society. I have always felt as though for me, there is a fear of the world turning unchanged after I am here to witness it, but to me that has always felt more like a fear or sadness at no longer being alive. The idea of death had lost its grip on me a bit when I watched my cancer sisters fall like flys even amidst my remission and later recovery. I realized somewhere along the way that I was going to live. I was meant to live. And live I have and think about death I haven’t, at least not so much.
I make comments and jovial plans about my funeral, yes. But I consider these a work in progress and are in no way “planned”.
The other day, though I had this weird turn of moments where I freaked out in my head a little bit thinking about my death. I was thinking about death, you see, but not the “no longer being here” sort of death as much as the MOMENT of death. The immediate Death Moment. And I became truly horrified.
I was thinking things such as, “there will be a moment where SOMETHING is failing and I am helpless to stop it. My heart will stop, or my breath will stop, or my brain will be severed off my spinal cord and all the other things will fail in succession. I will suffocate, or black out, or my blood will run dry and it is going to be horrifying. AND – I have to do it. There is no turning back, with life. ”The cost of living is dying and that’s one everybody owes” the old country song’s wisdom tells us.
I am not afraid of what comes after that moment, to be honest I am excited for what comes AFTER that moment. The big sleep – any of religions promised lands – becoming one with the Great White Light – any of those things really seem interesting enough. And life – this before death thing is kind of backwards and hurty but I’m cool here. That final moment of “a ha – here we go! HOLD ON” became overwhelmingly horrifying for some reason. I kept thinking, “is it happening RIGHT NOW? IS IT!? What if it IS!?” and instantly I was all dizzy and sweaty and wanting to laugh at myself but also having a human moment. I am going to die, for real, someday, I learned.
The whole idea and fright attack got started because I was thinking of suicide. It occurred to me, suicide is really the only option for avoiding the surprise of death. Death happens, no matter what, and suicide is just a way to decide the when’s and where’s. Its totally cheating, really. I mean, I am not sure if the “Dealing with death” thing really is some fundamental part of humanity, something we need to deal with or if it is just simply a fact of life. I mean, I know it is a fact of life, but is it also something more like a test or an important lesson that we need for some reason? I mean – everyone who ever lived before me has died. That is a powerful idea. I mean, if all of them can handle it so can I right? I can just wait for it to come and somehow do right by it.
I ain’t afraid of dying so much as having never lived. And I have been actively doing that for years now. :D So, I guess I’m gonna keep doing what I’ve been doing for as long as I may.

